Perfectly Flawed (13 page)

"You must tell us how your sister and brothers are
getting on," Charlotte urged.

"And you must tell me news of Augusta and her husband. I have not had a letter from her in some time," Sir
Samuel insisted.

Aunt Penny interrupted, "I am sure that all your conversations can wait until after Sir Samuel has settled in
his room and recuperated from his journey."

"As you request, Mrs. Parker," Sir Samuel acknowledged. "I shall see you both at supper and we will speak
then."

"But Sir Samuel-" Muriel thought his premature
departure was grossly unfair.

"Papa-" Charlotte pleaded, hoping their father might
intervene on their behalf.

"You shall see him at supper," he said in a tone that
would brook no protest. "We've spent many hours on the
roads. You must allow our guest to properly rest. Now off
with you, Sir Samuel. There will be plenty of opportunity
for discussion and family gossip later."

"Very well." Muriel did so wish to have a long con versation with him, and not just about their families. "I
suppose I shall need to wait."

"That's my girl." The Duke smiled and gestured for
them to follow. "If you please, ladies. I would like to
speak to the two of you."

Charlotte took hold of Muriel's hand and they followed their father to his library. The room felt complete
when he entered. The walls of leather-bound books
seemed to welcome the Duke.

"I am quite fond of that young man." His Grace had
meant Sir Samuel, of course.

"As are we," Charlotte answered for the two of them.

"If either of you could see about matrimonially securing him, I'd be more than grateful." The Duke winked
at his daughters.

"Oh, Papa, you shouldn't tease us so." Charlotte pulled
the door closed behind them.

"Char-Char does have a dozen or so suitors presently
doting on her; one more shouldn't make a difference."
Muriel squeezed her sister's arm, letting her know her
words were spoken as a mere jest. "I'll see what I can
do Papa, although I am only fifteen."

"Soon to be sixteen, although I do not believe I could
part with you so soon." He walked behind his desk,
glanced at the papers that had accumulated on its surface since his absence, and settled into the chair. "Now
tell me what has transpired since these suitors of Charlotte's arrived. Your aunt seems to be most distressed by
their presence."

"Every one of them is worthy and wonderful." Charlotte could only manage to say good things about their
gentlemen visitors ... or about anyone, truth be told.

"I would expect to hear nothing less from you, my
dear Charlotte." The Duke turned to his youngest.
"What say you, Muriel?"

Muriel glanced at her sister before giving an opinion.
"There has never been such a gathering of suitors. Not
since Augusta's party, but you must multiply their number by three."

"After receiving Mrs. Parker's missive I did notice
the lack of young men in Town. I believe she was correct deciding you should remain in the country." The
Duke shrugged and exhaled. "What is the use of going
to Town if half its inhabitants are here? Just before I left,
I heard many more were planning to vacate, to the dismay of the Almack's Patronesses."

"Lord and Lady Hopkins plan a ball for their daughter
Lady Margaret tomorrow night," Charlotte informed him.

"I've heard they have invited many families to stay
with them, simply switching the venue from their townhouse in London to their country house." The Duke
glanced thoughtfully at his daughters. "Shall we open
Faraday Hall and invite house guests as well?"

Muriel wished Aunt Penny were present to help make
the decisions. "We do not have as many distractions
here in Essex as they have in Town," she said. "I think we
have more than enough to do, planning entertainment
every afternoon for this last week and who knows for
how much longer."

"Not only is Sir Samuel here, but we also have Sir
Philip staying with us," Charlotte quickly added. "He
resides in the Gold Suite until his curricle is repaired."

"Who is this Sir Philip?" The Duke looked up from
his desk.

Charlotte brightened and answered, "Sir Philip Somerville met with some misfortune a few days ago while
traveling the roads not far from here. With so many other
visitors making Bloxwich their residence, the poor man
had no choice but to invite himself to remain with us. I
shall introduce you at supper."

"I see." Their father's interest waned and he rubbed
his eyes. He also looked fatigued after the day's travel.
"I cannot say if I will dine with you tonight."

"Then you shall make his acquaintance in the morning," Charlotte promised.

"Yes," Muriel agreed, trying to keep her distaste for
their guest to herself. "His presence seems quite unavoidable."

Everyone gathered in the Blue Parlor after the dinner
gong had sounded. The Duke, as he had predicted, was
noticeably absent.

"I had looked forward to meeting His Grace." Sir
Philip stood near the center of the room and spoke to no
one in particular.

Muriel noticed his black dinner jacket and creamcolored knee breeches. Was it possible they came from
that very small leather trunk of his? How many items of
clothing could that thing hold?

"Just as he wished to make your acquaintance, I'm
sure," Charlotte returned, blinking wide-eyed at the
baronet.

"Will you do me the honor of allowing me to escort
you into the Dining Room, Lady Charlotte?" Sir Samuel
pivoted from Muriel to Charlotte and stepped toward her.

"I had wished to have that honor," the taller, fair-haired
Sir Philip remarked.

"Is that so?" Sir Samuel replied, but not in any threatening manner.

"I'm sure we can settle this matter like civilized gentlemen," Sir Philip said, moving toward Charlotte.

"You're not speaking of crossing swords, are you?"
Sir Samuel glanced at the ladies. "Before partaking our
evening meal?"

"Of course not. I abhor violence." Sir Philip stood his
ground, but did not bully the young Sir Samuel.

Muriel could not deny he was a man after her sister's
own heart. Charlotte blinked up at Sir Philip. Was Charlotte thinking he was the most perfect man for her?
Muriel wondered.

"Ah, perhaps we should see who has the most intricately tied cravat?" Sir Samuel suggested.

"Nonsense," Sir Philip said, stepping back and sweeping his hand toward Charlotte. "We shall allow the lady
to decide between us."

Charlotte blushed. Her smile widened for Sir Samuel,
knowing full well, as Muriel had, he would be all that
was understanding and allow her to choose Sir Philip
over him for her escort.

"Sir Philip." Charlotte held out her hand, waiting for
him to respond.

"I am greatly honored." Sir Philip bowed at the waist
before offering his arm.

"I suppose you are left with me to lead you in to dinner," Sir Samuel said to Muriel, and glanced about.
"What of Mrs. Parker, will she not be joining us at the
table?"

Muriel could not be happier to be left in the care of
Sir Samuel. "My aunt should arrive shortly. I cannot
imagine what is keeping her."

Aunt Penny entered the Blue Parlor only moments
later and Sir Samuel escorted both ladies into the Dining Room.

Following their meal, the women prepared to leave the
two men to their port. Aunt Penny instructed the girls to
remove to the Citrus Parlor, while she excused herself,
saying she needed to speak to the Duke. Sir Philip and
Sir Samuel claimed they had no wish to remain without
the ladies. In truth, Muriel suspected, the gentlemen probably did not wish to be alone with each other.

Sir Samuel offered Muriel his arm to escort her to the
Citrus Parlor, and Sir Philip, escorting Charlotte, followed
directly.

As much as Muriel loathed to leave Charlotte to Sir
Philip's attention, her conversation with Sir Samuel
could not be delayed any longer. She led him to the far
side of the room so as not to be disturbed.

Charlotte settled at one end of the green-leaf-patterned
sofa just inside the room. She removed her gloves and retrieved her embroidery hoop from the basket. To her
delight, Sir Philip joined her, occupying the other end
of the sofa. She attempted to keep her focus upon the
needlework before her and soon detected Sir Philip
studying the stitches. Charlotte turned her hoop, allowing him an unobstructed view.

"Somehow I thought your work depicted some sort of
animal." A most quizzical expression crossed his face.
"A dog, perhaps?"

Did the simple wildflowers not please him? Had he
wished she had chosen to portray a hunt or a woodland
scene with wildlife?

"No, I- Oh!" Charlotte knew exactly to what he referred. "Muriel is working on a depiction of Romulus
and Remus with the nurturing Lupa-she's a wolf. Perhaps that is what you saw?"

"I suppose that might have been," he replied.

Charlotte glanced at the basket that held their evening occupation. She could not imagine how he should
come to have seen her sister's hoop instead of her own.

He gazed upon her work again, only now he seemed
more pleased at what he saw. Charlotte read the admiration in his eyes, the first sign of affection for her, perhaps. She hoped.

"No, matter," said Sir Philip, handing back her hoop
and taking her hand in his, hesitant to release his hold.
The feel of his gloved hand on her bare skin made her
feel quite light-headed.

"I feel your pulse racing," he said.

It was. A flush of warmth crept up her neck to her cheeks when she realized something had altered between them. Indeed, there was a complete difference in
the way Sir Philip addressed her this evening.

Perhaps it was her imagination. Had she dreamed he
pressed her hand as well? And the spark of interest she
thought she had detected in his eyes? Charlotte thought
not.

If her last breath were to be exhaled at that moment,
she would have no complaints. If she were to expire on
this very spot, Charlotte was certain she would head
straight for heaven.

Charlotte had sat before her dressing table the next evening and endured the hair tongs and styling for nearly two
hours. Now she stood in the center of her room and waited
for Lydia to return.

The abigail helped Charlotte dress, tying the many
tapes to secure her gown in place.

"I cannot tell you how fortunate it is that everyone
has taken the afternoon to prepare for the Hopkins' ball
tonight," Charlotte said, remaining still while Lydia
moved from one side to the other. "I do not think I could
have managed to entertain callers and attend the dance
this evening."

"I imagine everyone is anxious for tonight's festivities," said Lydia, as she tucked the excess length of the
tapes into the gown, shielding them from view.

"Do you expect he'll think me pretty tonight?" Charlotte peered over her shoulder at the full-length mirror. An
unfinished work of art, she regarded herself in the glass,
imagining her overall impression in the near-white gown.

A soft, sky blue color would have been more flattering.
However, all her new gowns were some variation of
white, for that was what young ladies attending their first
Season wore, and that is what had been ordered with the
exception of only a few other colors.

Lydia smiled, wide-eyed, admiring the young mistress. "I cannot imagine a gentleman who would not
notice you, Lady Charlotte. I 'spect you know that already."

"I would never make such a presumption. I don't expect anyone would find me that attractive."

Charlotte had been reminded of her beauty all her
life. Truth be told, she found this talk about her outward
appearance very superficial. Everyone knew her to possess great beauty, and she would do what she could to
fulfill their expectations. But, she wondered, what of
her hopes for this evening?

Would she manage to dance with every man she
wished? Then Charlotte thought of Sir Philip-the only
man she truly wished to share a dance with. Even though
he did not stand with her suitors, and had not made demands upon her time, could she, in good conscience,
consider reserving a dance for him? He might not even
ask her tonight. Oh, that was a sad thought.

"Who is it you wish to take particular notice?" Muriel
announced her presence with her question, peering around
the bedchamber door. "Aunt Penny is asking for you,
Lydia. I'll finish pinning Char-Char's dress."

"Thank you, m'lady." After an uneasy glance, the abigail quit the room.

Muriel, who had finished her toilette, collected some
straight pins and moved to her sister's side to complete the
work Lydia had started. "I had not thought you preferred
any one of your suitors over another."

Charlotte had the distinct impression Muriel would
not approve of the gentleman she held in particular regard and was hesitant to name him.

When Muriel tugged at the bodice edges, pulling
them closer, Charlotte cried out, "Take care, will you,
Moo?"