They arrived in Bruton Street to find Harry was before them, as well as Jack and several other young men. Amanda and some other girls were there too and Charlotte moved across to join them.
Richard Davies drew her into the group. They were discussing the curricle race.
“I hear you are going with Jack, and Amanda with Harry,” Richard said.
“Which of us are you going to bet on?” Amanda asked, and he laughingly shook his head.
“Neither, for I’ve no wish to offend either of them,” he replied, glancing at Harry as she spoke.
Charlotte followed his gaze. Harry was paying them no attention. He was looking at Elizabeth, who was greeting Claude, and he continued to watch, an inscrutable expression in his eyes, as Elizabeth led Claude across the room to make him known to some other of her friends. As soon as he could detach himself from his companions without the manoeuvre being too obvious, he strolled across to where Elizabeth was talking to Mr Penharrow and a couple of older people. After they had laughingly asked him whether he advised them to risk their money on him, they moved away and left him alone with Elizabeth.
“Shall you win?” she asked.
“I would willingly lose every curricle race if I could win what I most desired,” he replied lightly, and she blushed, put up her fan to hide her cheeks, and then, noticing Jack nearby, watching them, shrugged.
“Pray do not, Harry. You begin to be tedious, and sound, moreover, somewhat ridiculous!” she said sharply, and moved away.
Harry compressed his lips and turned away, and after a moment of indecision walked into the back parlour where card tables had been set out.
Claude had by this time joined Charlotte and her friends, and she introduced them to him. Richard began asking questions about the situation in France, and when Claude commented he seemed to know a great deal about the political aspects laughed, and said that as his father was a Member, and attached to the Foreign Office, he could scarcely avoid it.
“A Member? Oh, yes, of your Parliament. That must be very interesting. I hope to take my seat very shortly. I must meet your father and learn how to go on there.”
“Father is in the Commons,” Richard replied. “Better for you to have another peer to show you the ropes. Lord Fenton’s a neighbour of yours, and would be only too pleased to introduce you. Look, he’s over there by the window. Have you met him yet?”
Claude shook his head.
“I am meeting all these people I must have known when I was a child, and cannot recall,” he said ruefully. “It is worse, I truly believe, than if I were a complete stranger!”
“I can understand that. You’ve developed a distinct French accent too. Come over with me and I’ll introduce you to Fenton. Charlotte, pray grant me a word with you later.”
Some time afterwards Charlotte saw Harry emerge from the card room, and after standing and looking about him for a time, begin to walk towards Elizabeth. When he saw she was talking to Claude, however, he stopped, and joined a group from where he could observe them unobtrusively. Charlotte watched them too, and was contemptuous to see Elizabeth exerting all her charm, which Claude seemed to appreciate, for he was laughing down into her eyes and appeared to have no attention for anyone else.
“Lose one, gain one,” Jack murmured into Charlotte’s ear, and she swung round to face him, a look of enquiry in her face.
“What do you mean? She’s certainly lost no time in trying to attach Claude,” Charlotte said disgustedly.
“She’s lost Pauling, you see,” Jack explained. “I heard last night he’s sold up whatever was not entailed, and gone abroad. Too late even for a rich wife to set matters to rights. Sold his bays before I got to hear of it, more’s the pity. Apparently his gaming losses were horrendous, and it’s been going on for months, but well covered up.”
“Poor man,” Charlotte exclaimed involuntarily. “How did he manage to get in so deep before it became impossible to recover?”
“Gambling in the blood,” Jack shrugged. “His grandfather all but ruined himself, and only a lucky bet just before he died enabled his son to redeem the mortgages. Pity he only lived another ten years, for he seemed to have escaped the taint, and had increased the fortune by quite a bit to leave to this one. Everyone thought he would follow his father, but it seems he took to going to dubious hells only a year or so since. The on-dit in the clubs is that he was led on by a much older fellow, Sir David Clarkson, who is believed not to be above loading the dice or marking the cards himself! But best not spread that about, for he’s still received, you know.”
“How beastly!”
“Aye, but it means Pauling’s out of the running with Elizabeth. So’s Lord Fenton, I think. Have you seen the girl he’s making up to?”
“Yes, his mother’s goddaughter.”
“Out this season. It’s evens at the clubs.”
At that moment Richard reappeared and invited Charlotte to go down to supper with him. As she took his arm and moved away Claude and Elizabeth joined them.
“It will seem so strange for Rowanlea to have a master again,” Elizabeth was saying. “I did so enjoy going there when I was a child. I hope you will invite me soon.”
“But naturally. That is one place I must visit, when I can drag myself away from London and all its attractions. When do you return to Dennett Place, Miss Maine?”
“Oh, that depends,” she said airily, “on so many things. It was such a surprise when you suddenly reappeared, especially after the rumour that you had died years ago.”
“What rumour was this?”
“Has not Harry told you?” she asked innocently. “He and his father were so anxious to discover the truth they sent an agent to France to try and trace you. But he has not returned, and I collect is following false scents all over France.”
“But what of this rumour?”
“Oh, a vague hint, merely, which when examined amounted to nothing. A French lady claimed to have known a widow, by name of Norville, whose son died several years back. Really, from what Rosalie told me, she could not even be certain of the name, or whether the child was a boy or girl!”
“And where might this have taken place?”
“Chartres, I think they said.”
“Chartres? I have never been there. We spent all the time after my father was killed in Orleans or Bordeaux.”
“It was no doubt some other name,” Elizabeth said lightly. “Really no one could have placed any credence on it unless they wanted to believe it.”
“Did Harry want to believe it?” he asked quietly. “He has not been especially welcoming.”
Elizabeth looked down as if suddenly shy.
“Well, he loses a great deal by your return, does he not?” she asked in apparent confusion.
Watching and listening to them, Charlotte found herself digging her nails into her palms, for it was clear Elizabeth was doing all she could to captivate Claude. Harry had watched them descend the stairs, grim-faced, and with a brooding look in his eyes that pierced deep into Charlotte’s heart. Much though it pained her to see Elizabeth with Harry, she was determined to do whatever lay in her power to help him win her, if that was what he wanted. But with the return of Claude the prospect of success seemed remote, and it was clear to Charlotte Harry thought so too, hence his gloom.
Suddenly, however, Harry seemed to throw off the gloom, for as she watched him unobtrusively Charlotte saw him tighten his lips, turn to one of his friends, and begin to laugh unrestrainedly, slapping the other man on the shoulder. He continued in this merrier mood for the next hour or so and then, somewhat early, took his leave of Mrs Maine. He did not go alone, several other men departing at the same time, and in such good spirits it was obvious they had formed a scheme for further entertainment that night.
“I must be off,” Richard said swiftly as he came to take his farewells of Charlotte. “Will you drive with me tomorrow?”
* * * *
The following day Charlotte, wearing a new gown of oatmeal-colored sarsenet, a pelisse of deep chocolate brown, and a hat trimmed with orange ribbons, was seated in Richard’s elegant high perch phaeton, just entering the Park, when she saw Claude driving towards them in the dashing new curricle he had bought, Elizabeth beside him.
“A nice pair,” Richard commented, “but he don’t handle the ribbons too confidently, and he’s taking that corner far too wide. Can’t see him being any challenge to Harry.”
“He has not been driving for long, I understand, from the circumstances of his life in France,” Charlotte felt compelled to defend her cousin.
“He’d best not try driving a phaeton like this, then,” Richard replied, “or he’d soon overturn it. He’s not got them up to the bit, and it’s my belief they’re too loosely poled up.”
The two carriages drew alongside and they paused to exchange greetings, and to thank Elizabeth for the enjoyable party.
“If it was so delightful as you say, then I cannot understand why so many of you left at such an unconscionably early hour,” Elizabeth replied teasingly. “What were you up to?”
“I could not possibly divulge Harry’s secrets to you,” Richard said, laughing, and with a nod to Claude drove on.
“What were you doing?” Charlotte demanded as soon as they were out of earshot.
“Why should I tell you our secrets when I would not tell Elizabeth?” he asked, grinning.
“I imagine you went to some horrid gaming hell, or were boxing the watch, if not worse,” she replied, chuckling.
“Oh, by no means worse,” he returned. “I’ll offer you a bargain. I’ll tell you if you’ll promise to answer a question of mine!”
She eyed him suspiciously, then suddenly dimpled enchantingly and nodded her head.
“Very well, though I cannot conceive why you need to bargain with me!”
Richard smiled teasingly.
“Later. Well, Harry suggested we get a boat and go down the river. We were out all night, and came back on the tide at dawn, but unfortunately without any of the fish he had promised us for breakfast. He lost the wager, and we threw him in by Tower Wharf.”
“You threw him in the river? Oh, how odious!” Charlotte exclaimed through her laughter.
“Not in the least, for that was the wager. We would have had to have paid him a guinea apiece for every fish he caught, but he didn’t get even a minnow. That was one of the best day—or rather night’s sport I’ve had for a long time,” Richard said with a smile, and Charlotte wondered how Harry could have made himself suggest such a scheme and, from Richard’s account, been the life and soul of it, after Elizabeth’s behaviour. She hoped he was not going to indulge to excess in wild pranks such as he had done in the past.
Before she could ponder too deeply on this she saw her mother, accompanied by Mr Penharrow, riding towards them. Lady Weare had on a dark blue habit, trimmed with gold braid, and a very dashing military style hat. Briefly Charlotte wondered why she had not seen it before, and why her mother had not, as she usually did, shown her this new purchase.
They rode along beside the phaeton for a short distance, and then Lady Weare said she must rejoin some friends.
“Your Aunt Claudine was persuaded to come out riding, although she has done so little in the past few years. She wishes to take it up again, and she was a competent rider before. We left her to have a canter.”
She waved, and left them, Mr Penharrow attentively beside her, and Richard drove on, unusually silent. Charlotte looked at him, puzzled.
“You haven’t asked your question yet,” she reminded him.
“I don’t know how to start,” he confessed, glancing at her. “Charlotte, I’ve known you for so long, as Harry’s little cousin, but since you’ve come to London you’ve been so different, so grown up!”
“Well, I am grown up,” she replied indignantly.
He laughed uncertainly.
“I’m not the only one to have noticed. The fellows flock round you so there’s scarcely a chance of getting you alone. Charlotte, I’ve fallen in love with you. Is there any chance for me?”
Totally unprepared, she gazed at him speechlessly.
“But Richard!” she managed to say after what seemed an eternity. “I—oh, dear, I don’t want—I can’t—I’ve never even thought of you like that. You are a friend!”
“And I hope I always will be,” he interposed swiftly. “I’m sorry, Charlotte, I’ve been too sudden. But please, will you think of it?”
Hurriedly she shook her head, for it had forcibly struck her she could marry no one, she loved Harry, and while she did so could take no substitute. Incapable of explaining, she took refuge in requesting Richard to say no more, despising herself at the same time for behaving like a silly heroine in a trashy novel. He appeared to understand, however, and to her relief, with admirable restraint, agreed. He chatted easily and inconsequentially as he drove back to Grosvenor Square where Charlotte, with an immense effort to appear to be behaving normally, thanked him for the drive and sped up to her room to ponder, not the unexpected declaration by Richard, but the startling discovery that she loved Harry.
Chapter 7
Subdued, Charlotte changed for dinner, and to cheer herself up decided to wear her new evening gown, in a pretty shade of pink embroidered with a deeper shade and with matching ribbons caught up as bows on the sleeves and hem.
She joined her mother and aunt in the drawing-room. Claude soon followed her in, with Monsieur de Vauban, but Mr Norville appeared only as Rivers came to announce dinner, He nodded briefly at Charlotte and her mother, turned a searching gaze on Lady Norville, and then, totally ignoring Claude and his uncle, stumped down the stairs to the dining-room. There he uttered the fewest possible words, seeming engrossed in his thoughts, which did not appear pleasant ones. Lady Norville attempted, with bright remarks, to initiate a conversation with him, but Lady Weare, wiser in the ways of her brother, left him to himself and quietly busied herself with entertaining Claude and Monsieur de Vauban.
Charlotte, distracted from her own confused thoughts, watched them, puzzled at what could have disturbed her uncle so, and gave a little jump of surprise when he at last spoke, to dismiss the servants when the last course had been placed on the table.