‘I don’t think I am amenable at all, but I shall ride with you tomorrow, Captain Fanton.’
Captain Fanton dipped his head in appreciation, while his brother crossed one muscular leg over the other and remained silent.
‘Faith enjoys riding—do you not, Faith?’ Mrs Buxted interjected loudly, drawing all eyes to her younger daughter.
Faith, unfortunately, had just taken a small bite of cake, and almost choked at her mother’s question. After some coughing, and sips of tea, she recovered enough to confirm that, yes, she enjoyed riding.
Charlotte refrained from raising a brow. The Buxted ladies’ idea of riding was no more than a sedate walk, from what she had seen. On two occasions, when the family had had no evening engagements, Charlotte and her cousins had gone for an early-evening ride to Rotten Row in Hyde Park.
The Buxted horses were staid and placid—Papa would have dismissed them immediately as packhorses—and they had not even broken into a trot. Both Henrietta and Faith seemed decidedly nervous around horses. Their ride had not been at all energetic, and Charlotte, who had a great deal of liveliness, had found it frustrating.
Their evening promenades were simply a chance to see and to be seen. Many members of the ton were usually there, and Charlotte had been introduced to some of the Buxteds’ acquaintances. Today, however, was her first encounter with the Earl of Shalford and his brother.
As Henrietta engaged the Earl in quiet conversation, and Mrs Buxted talked briskly to the Captain and Faith about mutual acquaintances, Charlotte took the opportunity to study the two men a little more closely.
Lord Shalford—the Earl—was tall, dark and distant. His demeanour was disengaged, verging on bored. His grey eyes had displayed complete indifference to Charlotte, which amused her. He was listening politely to Henrietta, though. Charlotte suppressed a smile. The Earl clearly preferred sedate, dutiful, blonde ladies, who arrived on time and were fashionably pale.
The Captain seemed much more likeable. His open countenance and smiling blue eyes reminded her of many young officers she had met through her father’s career. Since her seventeenth birthday, when she had been home from school, she had acted as her father’s hostess at dinners, parties and even a grand ball. It felt strange to act the debutante again—although here in London that was exactly what she was.
Lord Shalford addressed his hostess. ‘We have come today with a specific purpose in mind.’
‘Adam, must you be so formal?’ His brother laughed.
‘It seems I must, Harry,’ replied the Earl. ‘As you may know, Mrs Buxted, since my father’s death last year I have been busy with paperwork, death duties, and ensuring that my father’s—that is to say, my estate—is well-managed and that I understand its workings. As the eldest son I had naturally already had some dealings with my father’s steward, but I still have much to learn.’
‘Indeed—and I am sure the estate is safe in your more than capable hands.’ Mrs Buxted showed a smile which did not quite reach her eyes. A gleam of curiosity lit them, making her look strangely calculating for a second.
‘Well, only time will show. But to the purpose of my visit today—’
‘Yes, do get on with it, Adam.’
The Captain made a childish face at Charlotte, whose eyes danced in mischievous response. Their exchange was noted, causing Charlotte a moment’s discomfort as the Earl’s grey eyes pierced her with a keen glance.
She raised her eyebrows, undaunted, though she was assailed by the unexpected memory of old Lord Carmby, an arrogant diplomat who had crossed Charlotte’s path in Vienna. His caustic put-downs had alienated all who knew him there. He had once called Charlotte ‘a forward, opinionated brat’ when she had daringly questioned his views on a political matter. Luckily, Papa had not been within earshot. Hmmm... She hadn’t been made to feel like a child for a long time. Anger began to burn in her chest.
‘Now we are out of mourning, I think it is important for the family—indeed, for everyone at Chadcombe—that we resume normality. My father was ill for a long time, and as you may know my mother died three years before him. So I have decided to invite a small party of friends to Chadcombe after Parliament rises. My great-aunt—Miss Langley—has kindly agreed to act as hostess. I would be delighted if you and your family—and your guest, of course—’ he glanced at Charlotte ‘—would agree to visit.’
‘Visit Chadcombe?’ Henrietta came to life, an excited smile lighting her face.
Mrs Buxted sent a quelling glance to her elder daughter. ‘Of course we should be delighted to visit Chadcombe. It is an age since we were in Surrey—almost a year ago, I believe. We have not visited Monkton Park since last summer. To stay in Chadcombe would be unusual, since our estates are so close together, but we are grateful for your invitation.’
Henrietta explained to Charlotte. ‘My grandfather’s sister left Monkton Park to us two years ago. It adjoins Chadcombe’s lands to the east.’
Mrs Buxted continued. ‘We inspected the place when my aunt died, and have visited occasionally.’ She turned to Lord Shalford. ‘We could not call on the third Earl—your father—because of his illness. Monkton Park is a pretty little estate, though we prefer our main home, near Melton Mowbray. Monkton Park has been left to whichever of our daughters is married first, although the old lady positively doted on dear Henrietta.’
Henrietta smiled slightly.
‘Of course that question has never been in doubt, for Henrietta is the elder...and so pretty. My aunt clearly intended she should have the estate. And so she shall—just as soon as she is married!’
The room was silent. Charlotte looked down at her own hands, which were clasped so tightly the knuckles were white.
Aunt Buxted, oblivious, continued after a pause. ‘I shall of course check with Mr Buxted, but I am almost certain we have as yet no fixed engagements for July.’
Henrietta said nothing, but Charlotte, glancing across, saw a triumphant gleam in her eyes. This, then, was what she wanted.
‘Excellent,’ said the Earl. Turning to Henrietta, who quickly adopted an innocent, guileless expression, he added, ‘And you, Miss Buxted? Will you be happy to visit my home?’
‘Indeed I shall, Lord Shalford.’ Her voice was quiet, well-modulated, gentle.
The Earl nodded approvingly—satisfied, it seemed, with her muted response.
Charlotte suppressed a smile. If he had seen Henrietta earlier, shouting shrilly at Faith about a length of ribbon, he might not be so sanguine. Charlotte had been glad to go riding, simply to avoid the tantrum. Henrietta, she had realised, was much indulged by Mrs Buxted, and as the elder—and prettier—daughter, held prime importance in her mother’s mind.
The pliant Faith was expected to sacrifice any treat or privilege if Miss Henrietta desired it strongly enough. Including, it seemed, the chance to marry an earl. Charlotte had gently suggested that Faith be stronger in standing up for herself. Faith, admitting she was easily crushed by unkindness, had vowed to try.
The men took their leave a few moments later, as was correct. The Captain bowed to Charlotte, expressing the wish to see her again soon, while Lord Shalford nodded his head perfunctorily. Mrs Buxted watched closely, her eyes narrowed.
When they had gone, she turned immediately to Henrietta in triumph. ‘My dear Henrietta, this is good news.’ She smiled sweetly at her elder daughter. ‘We are all included, but it is clear the invitation is especially for you. If you make the most of this opportunity, he will declare himself at Chadcombe.’
‘Oh, Mama. He did ask me particularly if I should enjoy visiting his home, did he not? Just think—Chadcombe. The Fanton estate. And I am to be mistress of it!’
‘Now, my dear, do not think you have already won him. You must secure