Waltzing With The Earl. Catherine Tinley
to the salon. She was at a loss as to what to do. She felt strangely flat, which surprised her, for she had not thought herself so shallow that the loss of a ball should so affect her. She was not ready to sleep, and reading could not hold her attention. She tried to write a letter to Papa, but the words would not come, and she sat down her pen in frustration.
After almost two hours of achieving nothing, she went to her room.
Priddy helped her prepare for bed, and expressed her opinion on balls and Court presentations and on. ‘Old women who have forgotten what it is to be young. Mark my words: she only did it to keep you away from the young gentlemen!’
‘Oh, Priddy! You must not say such things. It will make me even more angry, for I fear you are right. But we may be wrong. Why, when Henrietta was angry about my riding with them Aunt Buxted did not support her.’
Priddy snorted. ‘She’s a clever old bird. She has plans for her daughters and she will not brook opposition.’
‘But I am no opposition for her daughters. I have no wish for a husband, and I cannot match my cousins’ beauty.’
‘I do not understand how you can say you are not beautiful. You are no insipid yellow-haired milkmaid, it is true, but that is just a fashion. You have countenance, Miss Charlotte, and your good looks will last longer than Miss Buxted’s, mark my words.’
‘Oh, Priddy, I know your regard for me deceives you, but I thank you nevertheless.’
Priddy shook her head. ‘That’s not it. And as for not wanting a husband—it is every girl’s wish to get a nice husband.’ She stared into the distance. ‘To have a proper home of your own and little ones.’
‘Even you, Priddy?’ Charlotte was curious.
‘I confess when I was young there was a man.’ Her eyes softened. ‘We were to be married. But he was carried off by a fever. It was not to be.’
‘Oh, Priddy! I’m so sorry.’ Impulsively, she hugged the woman who had been the closest thing to a mother to her since she had lost her own mama.
‘Now, now,’ said Priddy gruffly. ‘It was a long time ago. But if you get the chance at happiness you must take it. We none of us know how long we have on this earth.’
Charlotte pondered Priddy’s words as she lay wide awake, listening to the sounds of the city at night—carriages rumbling, dogs barking, in the distance, some drunken singing. She knew better than most how easily lives could be snuffed out. Growing up as a war child, she had known many people to die—officers, foot soldiers and their wives—more often from illness and disease than from the heat of battle. She wondered if Captain Fanton, like many of the young men she had known, had felt the trauma of war and of loss.
Her mind moved on from the Captain to his brother. The Earl had been kind tonight. Not arrogant at all. She remembered his cool grey eyes fixing upon hers and felt a strange warmth in her chest. It was altogether confusing, for he held young ladies in disdain, and the squabble between Henrietta and herself would only have strengthened his prejudice.
Yet, surprisingly, her view of him was changing. Where she had seen arrogance and prejudice, she now saw warmth and compassion. Even more strange was this new feeling he had stirred in her. It was something like...affection, though there were other, stranger colours in it. It was a good feeling, though somewhat overshadowed by imagining them all at the ball.
She pictured them all, dancing, laughing, talking, and felt...alone.
Lady Sophia Annesley was in her drawing room when Adam called. As the Earl was a regular visitor, and one who was well known to all of her ladyship’s staff, he was shown straight in. Unfortunately when he arrived, Lady Sophia was stretched out on a sofa, gently snoring, a handkerchief over her face to protect her sensitive eyes from the harsh daylight.
Adam coughed discreetly.
She rose with a start, her cap slipping sideways and the comfortable blanket she had spread over her feet falling to the floor.
Retrieving the blanket, the Earl bent to help her into a sitting position and kiss her cheek. ‘Good day, Godmama. What a fetching cap!’
‘For goodness’ sake, Adam, why do you arrive without warning? You should always allow a lady to be ready for a visitor.’
She waved at him to be seated, so he placed himself beside her on the sofa.
Lady Sophia was a lady in her middle years, with a round figure and a pleasant, friendly visage. Her mind was sharp, and she knew everyone in society, keeping track of the latest on-dits through her extensive network of friends. She was well-known and popular, though some were wary of her, for she spoke her mind and was scathing of those she termed ‘fribbles, fools and imbeciles’.
Just now, she did not look quite so formidable.
Retying her cap under her left ear, and gathering her thoughts at the same time, Lady Sophia surveyed the Earl. He looked fresh and immaculately groomed. His boots were polished to a high gloss, his neckcloth perfectly tied, and his eyes clear and amused. Yet she knew he—like most of London’s elite—had drunk and eaten, danced and talked until the early hours of the morning at Lady Cowper’s ball.
‘Why are you so awake and so loud at this ungodly hour? I am not long arisen from my bed.’
‘But it is almost two o’clock.’
‘Yes, but it feels like the middle of the night! I believe there was something wrong with those prawns, you know, though I would never say so to Emily Cowper. I feel distinctly unwell.’
‘Well, you look as fresh as a newborn lamb, despite...er...the copious amounts of punch on offer last night.’
She eyed him malevolently. ‘Yes, thank you, Adam, but you really shouldn’t be barging in unannounced, you know.’
‘Aunt Sophia, you summoned me here. I dashed from my bed when I received your message, wondering what desperate crisis had occurred. I came as quickly as I could!’
‘Foolish boy! I have no time for your funning today.’ She patted his hand warmly, but then spoke intently. ‘Something of a most concerning nature has occurred.’
‘Do tell, pray.’
‘Last night at the ball the Fanton name was being bandied about in a most unpleasant way.’
He frowned. ‘Indeed? May I ask what was said?’
‘There’s the thing. I don’t know exactly. But I know the sort of tittle-tattle and gossip...’
‘Ah.’ He sat back. ‘And was this gossip perhaps related to the fact that we were part of the Buxted party at the ball?’
‘I cannot like it, Adam. We are Fantons. We should not be the subject of demeaning conversation from people with nothing else to do.’
‘What are the old tabbies saying? What can they possibly find amiss in our company last night? The Buxteds are a respectable family whose Surrey estate marches with ours. Why, we may have known them for a long time.’
‘Yes, but it is known you have never been intimate with them. It is drawing attention. It seems Mrs Buxted has been crowing about you visiting their house and having dinner, arranging riding excursions...’ She paused. ‘There are even rumours that the entire family have been invited to Chadcombe.’
‘And what if they have?’
She looked shocked ‘But, Adam, you must know it is too particular... It looks as if you may be planning to offer for one of the Buxted girls. Now, I must say since your father’s illness, and this last year, you have surprised all the naysayers who thought you would struggle to manage Chadcombe. I know as few do how things were let slip these last few years, with your mama gone and your father not himself...I also know how