CHAPTER ONE
“If it weren’t so early in the Season, Lady Charlotte, I’d declare your sister a singular success.” Lady Bromwell nodded toward Angelica on the far side of the room.
Charlotte Fortney smiled and nodded politely. At thirty-five, she observed the festivities from her usual place within the congregation of matrons and chaperones that watched the room with attentive eyes. As a confirmed spinster, Charlotte was content to monitor the courting rituals of others unfolding under the gilded candlelight of the ballroom. Her location had the added benefit of allowing her to keep a watchful eye on her young sister.
“Is that Stanwall dancing with Angelica?” asked her mother, the Dowager Duchess of Wainsborough, as she joined her.
“Indeed it is,” Charlotte said. “And the second dance set tonight. All of the gossips will be atwitter on the morrow.”
Her mother chuckled. “Excellent. Stanwall would be a brilliant match.”
“He would bore Angelica to tears.” Charlotte took a sip of lukewarm punch.
“I fail to see how that is a deterrent, Charlotte. One doesn’t look to a husband for diversion. Stanwall is wealthy, titled and from a prestigious bloodline. Angelica would do well as his countess.” Her mother studied the couple with the alertness of a predator watching its prey.
Stanwall returned Angelica to her throng of admirers then bowed with formal precision and took his leave. Angelica turned her attention and smiles to another suitor without a single glance at the departing figure.
“Drat,” her mother grumbled.
“Why the rush to wed her off, Mother? Allow her to enjoy this first Season and focus your wedding aspirations on one of the boys. Heavens knows they’re not making any progress on their own.” The sisters bracketed two bachelor brothers in age, so her male siblings were viable targets on the marriage mart and had been for some time.
“Don’t think I haven’t tried. They’re as slippery as eels,” she said and sniffed as if wounded. “Besides, I’d like to see one of my girls wed.” The words were careless, as if her mother had said her thoughts aloud without realizing it.
Charlotte stiffened. “I should have liked to have wed, as you well know.” At one time, Charlotte would have done anything to wed one man in particular. And she had given up everything as a result when she could not.
At least her mother had the courtesy to look appalled for her words, although if one didn’t know the duchess well it would have been difficult to tell. Her mother’s control was such that she froze when embarrassed with no undignified stammering or blushing. After a long hesitation, she inhaled and turned her full attention to Charlotte.
“Indeed. I should have said that I would like to see one of my girls well wed.”
And there it was—the admonishment for selecting the wrong man. A man who wasn’t well set in the eyes of her parents.
A long moment passed before Charlotte dared to speak. “Proceed with care, Mother, and reflect upon the last time you attempted to meddle with a daughter’s affections. And the consequences.”
“I recall all too well, Charlotte, and I won’t be as lax this time.” Her mother glanced about to ensure no one could overhear them. “She’ll be wed and secure before she has the chance to ruin herself. I won’t tolerate another scandal to suppress.”
Perhaps it was the stress of launching Angelica in her first Season that brought out the spitefulness; she’d been denied the event with Charlotte. But Charlotte had learned long ago to retreat in the face of parental opposition, and she followed that ingrained response now. After all, it wasn’t done to bicker in public. Charlotte sketched a curtsy for form’s sake and fled the room and her mother as discreetly as possible.
Memories threatened to swamp her as she left the ballroom. The images were oddly fresh for having occurred so long ago, although she had never entirely forgotten. How
“If it weren’t so early in the Season, Lady Charlotte, I’d declare your sister a singular success.” Lady Bromwell nodded toward Angelica on the far side of the room.
Charlotte Fortney smiled and nodded politely. At thirty-five, she observed the festivities from her usual place within the congregation of matrons and chaperones that watched the room with attentive eyes. As a confirmed spinster, Charlotte was content to monitor the courting rituals of others unfolding under the gilded candlelight of the ballroom. Her location had the added benefit of allowing her to keep a watchful eye on her young sister.
“Is that Stanwall dancing with Angelica?” asked her mother, the Dowager Duchess of Wainsborough, as she joined her.
“Indeed it is,” Charlotte said. “And the second dance set tonight. All of the gossips will be atwitter on the morrow.”
Her mother chuckled. “Excellent. Stanwall would be a brilliant match.”
“He would bore Angelica to tears.” Charlotte took a sip of lukewarm punch.
“I fail to see how that is a deterrent, Charlotte. One doesn’t look to a husband for diversion. Stanwall is wealthy, titled and from a prestigious bloodline. Angelica would do well as his countess.” Her mother studied the couple with the alertness of a predator watching its prey.
Stanwall returned Angelica to her throng of admirers then bowed with formal precision and took his leave. Angelica turned her attention and smiles to another suitor without a single glance at the departing figure.
“Drat,” her mother grumbled.
“Why the rush to wed her off, Mother? Allow her to enjoy this first Season and focus your wedding aspirations on one of the boys. Heavens knows they’re not making any progress on their own.” The sisters bracketed two bachelor brothers in age, so her male siblings were viable targets on the marriage mart and had been for some time.
“Don’t think I haven’t tried. They’re as slippery as eels,” she said and sniffed as if wounded. “Besides, I’d like to see one of my girls wed.” The words were careless, as if her mother had said her thoughts aloud without realizing it.
Charlotte stiffened. “I should have liked to have wed, as you well know.” At one time, Charlotte would have done anything to wed one man in particular. And she had given up everything as a result when she could not.
At least her mother had the courtesy to look appalled for her words, although if one didn’t know the duchess well it would have been difficult to tell. Her mother’s control was such that she froze when embarrassed with no undignified stammering or blushing. After a long hesitation, she inhaled and turned her full attention to Charlotte.
“Indeed. I should have said that I would like to see one of my girls well wed.”
And there it was—the admonishment for selecting the wrong man. A man who wasn’t well set in the eyes of her parents.
A long moment passed before Charlotte dared to speak. “Proceed with care, Mother, and reflect upon the last time you attempted to meddle with a daughter’s affections. And the consequences.”
“I recall all too well, Charlotte, and I won’t be as lax this time.” Her mother glanced about to ensure no one could overhear them. “She’ll be wed and secure before she has the chance to ruin herself. I won’t tolerate another scandal to suppress.”
Perhaps it was the stress of launching Angelica in her first Season that brought out the spitefulness; she’d been denied the event with Charlotte. But Charlotte had learned long ago to retreat in the face of parental opposition, and she followed that ingrained response now. After all, it wasn’t done to bicker in public. Charlotte sketched a curtsy for form’s sake and fled the room and her mother as discreetly as possible.
Memories threatened to swamp her as she left the ballroom. The images were oddly fresh for having occurred so long ago, although she had never entirely forgotten. How
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