I know I
met you only a few days ago, but I must confess I find
myself quite besotted. And I must tell you, I am not to
be dissuaded."
"What was that again?" Charlotte said, turning to face
him.
She had walked alongside him the entire way here
but did not remember much of the journey. She barely
recalled leaving Muriel's company or turning the corner of the manor. Had she and Mr. Evans conversed as
they strolled? Charlotte couldn't imagine what she might
have said to him.
Her attention had drifted upon seeing what she thought
was a solitary horseman arriving just moments ago,
coming up the drive. She had thought it might have been,
possibly could be, Sir Philip.
"I'm afraid I didn't hear you." Then the notion of
what she should say came to her.
Mr. Evans wished to hear of some deficit she hid
from the masses. Tell him, she would-but it would be
a lie, and lying did not sit well with her. Even a little
one. Oh, why did they insist she do this to them?
"I'm afraid I don't hear well on my left side." She
brought her hand to her left ear, indicating her difficulty.
"You can't hear, you say?" Mr. Evans' devotion seemed
to be wavering a bit.
Charlotte thought Mr. Evans needed some added incentive to question his affection for her. "Not to be dissuaded," he had told her.
"Excuse me? Might you repeat that? And please stand
over here." She gestured to her right. "My partial hearing does not bother you, does it?" Charlotte felt that if
he truly cared for her, it should not make the least bit of
difference.
"It cannot matter to me." Mr. Evans did not sound entirely convinced, however. How did he expect Charlotte to believe him?
"That is good to know. I imagine you have already
heard about my eye?"
"Oh, that ... " His voice faltered and he staggered
back a few steps.
"You must come closer to speak"-Charlotte reached
out to draw him near-"else I cannot properly hear
you. "
"I had thought that was a load of gammon," he said,
raising his voice, nearly shouting at her. "A bit of unpleasantness to put some of us off."
"I cannot tell you how pleased I am those things do
not bother you. Now we may be truly comfortable with
each other."
"Yes." He pasted on a smile that even Charlotte knew
to be false.
"I also wish to tell you that my favorite flowers are
tulips." She smiled, waiting to see how he would react to
that.
"Tulips," he repeated flatly. It did not seem to please
him.
"Yes, they bloom in the spring when the cold of winter fades and the days grow warmer." Charlotte continued to watch him. Then to gently remind him, she offered,
"If I am not mistaken, you brought me several tied with
a white satin ribbon the day after we met."
"Did I?" But his heart really wasn't in his reply, nor
was there any ardor. The devotion that he had proclaimed for her only minutes earlier had evaporated. "Oh, yes. I
believe you are correct "
"As if you could have forgotten." She smiled and fluttered her lashes.
He consulted his pocket watch. "I beg your pardon,
but I do believe it is time I be on my way. Again I thank
you for this opportunity, Lady Charlotte." He bowed
over her hand and then headed for the stables. "I shall
never forget this moment "
It seemed that Mr. Evans could not leave fast enough.
No matter. Just as Muriel had told her, it was a test of
his affection. It seemed Mr. Evans had discarded any
interest he may have had.
Her sister's plan had not just come close but gone beyond what Charlotte considered correct behavior. She
could not deny she was leading these gentlemen to believe what she would like to think of as exaggerated
truths.
She followed his path out of the parterre toward the
stables and stopped at the edge of the house. The sight
of Mr. Evans departing on his horse did not mean as
much as the vision of a crested carriage coming up the
long drive of Faraday Hall.
Pure hope and happiness filled Charlotte's heart.
"Look!" she cried out to no one. "Papa
met you only a few days ago, but I must confess I find
myself quite besotted. And I must tell you, I am not to
be dissuaded."
"What was that again?" Charlotte said, turning to face
him.
She had walked alongside him the entire way here
but did not remember much of the journey. She barely
recalled leaving Muriel's company or turning the corner of the manor. Had she and Mr. Evans conversed as
they strolled? Charlotte couldn't imagine what she might
have said to him.
Her attention had drifted upon seeing what she thought
was a solitary horseman arriving just moments ago,
coming up the drive. She had thought it might have been,
possibly could be, Sir Philip.
"I'm afraid I didn't hear you." Then the notion of
what she should say came to her.
Mr. Evans wished to hear of some deficit she hid
from the masses. Tell him, she would-but it would be
a lie, and lying did not sit well with her. Even a little
one. Oh, why did they insist she do this to them?
"I'm afraid I don't hear well on my left side." She
brought her hand to her left ear, indicating her difficulty.
"You can't hear, you say?" Mr. Evans' devotion seemed
to be wavering a bit.
Charlotte thought Mr. Evans needed some added incentive to question his affection for her. "Not to be dissuaded," he had told her.
"Excuse me? Might you repeat that? And please stand
over here." She gestured to her right. "My partial hearing does not bother you, does it?" Charlotte felt that if
he truly cared for her, it should not make the least bit of
difference.
"It cannot matter to me." Mr. Evans did not sound entirely convinced, however. How did he expect Charlotte to believe him?
"That is good to know. I imagine you have already
heard about my eye?"
"Oh, that ... " His voice faltered and he staggered
back a few steps.
"You must come closer to speak"-Charlotte reached
out to draw him near-"else I cannot properly hear
you. "
"I had thought that was a load of gammon," he said,
raising his voice, nearly shouting at her. "A bit of unpleasantness to put some of us off."
"I cannot tell you how pleased I am those things do
not bother you. Now we may be truly comfortable with
each other."
"Yes." He pasted on a smile that even Charlotte knew
to be false.
"I also wish to tell you that my favorite flowers are
tulips." She smiled, waiting to see how he would react to
that.
"Tulips," he repeated flatly. It did not seem to please
him.
"Yes, they bloom in the spring when the cold of winter fades and the days grow warmer." Charlotte continued to watch him. Then to gently remind him, she offered,
"If I am not mistaken, you brought me several tied with
a white satin ribbon the day after we met."
"Did I?" But his heart really wasn't in his reply, nor
was there any ardor. The devotion that he had proclaimed for her only minutes earlier had evaporated. "Oh, yes. I
believe you are correct "
"As if you could have forgotten." She smiled and fluttered her lashes.
He consulted his pocket watch. "I beg your pardon,
but I do believe it is time I be on my way. Again I thank
you for this opportunity, Lady Charlotte." He bowed
over her hand and then headed for the stables. "I shall
never forget this moment "
It seemed that Mr. Evans could not leave fast enough.
No matter. Just as Muriel had told her, it was a test of
his affection. It seemed Mr. Evans had discarded any
interest he may have had.
Her sister's plan had not just come close but gone beyond what Charlotte considered correct behavior. She
could not deny she was leading these gentlemen to believe what she would like to think of as exaggerated
truths.
She followed his path out of the parterre toward the
stables and stopped at the edge of the house. The sight
of Mr. Evans departing on his horse did not mean as
much as the vision of a crested carriage coming up the
long drive of Faraday Hall.
Pure hope and happiness filled Charlotte's heart.
"Look!" she cried out to no one. "Papa
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