“Honestly, it is a wonder that so many mothers want you for a son-in-law.” Charlotte shook her head.
Dominic laughed softly. “I am of the opinion that they have rather excellent taste.”
“You would be,” she said.
The two of them drifted into silence with it only occasionally broken by the sound of quills scratching against paper and the occasional chink of china as one or the other of them took a sip of their tea
“Well, I think this will do to start,” Charlotte said, looking pleased with herself.
“You are already done?” Dominic glanced at his own half-penned letter.
“It was not hard,” she replied and took a bite out of a cucumber sandwich.
“Let us hear it then.” Dominic gestured for Charlotte to read the letter aloud.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “To Duke Verimore.”
“A rather formal beginning, do you not think? Hardly the start of a letter to someone you are courting.” He frowned at her.
“Would you rather I began it ‘My dearest, most darling Sweetkins?’” Charlotte said sweetly.
“I was thinking something more along the lines of ‘My dear Duke’. You know, something that sounds like you might actually be fond of me?” Dominic said.
“Fine. ‘My dear Duke.’” Charlotte penned on a fresh piece of paper. “Thank you for your letter. While I am flattered at your attentions, I must confess that I am more than a little concerned about your reputation.”
“You have not really written that, have you?” Dominic moved from his spot to peer over Charlotte’s shoulder at her letter. “Goodness, ‘my wanton ways?’ My ‘propensity and desire for the hunt with no real commitment’. You cannot write this; you make it sound as though you loathe everything about me.”
“It is not that bad.”
“It is. You make me out to be some kind of degenerate reprobate.” He sighed. “No one will believe that you wrote that kind of letter, and we have somehow ended up engaged.”
“Well, it is what I would have written to you. After all, I am hardly ignorant of your reputation. And unless I am mistaken, I suspect your first letter would have focused on my beauty or some such thing. It would have been full of pretty words but given me very little reason to trust you.”
Dominic glanced towards the letter he had half finished. “I did say that I had been thinking of you often and that I was sorry we had had to part so swiftly.”
“Do not tell me you borrowed a line from Shakespear.”
“I was tempted, but I resisted the urge. My point still remains that my letter, at least what I have written of it, points to me wanting to court you. Yours reads as though you would like very little to do with me.”
“Then maybe your next letter should focus on earning my trust. I will not pretend that I would have jumped into a courtship with a rake with no reservations,” Charlotte said.
Dominic had the sense that there was something more that she wanted to say that she was holding back. “Very well. I can see you will not be moved on this, so let us see what I can come up with.”
He absently sucked on the end of his quill. “My dearest Charlotte.”
“Rather familiar do you not think?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow at him.
“You are quite right; I should address it to my Plum.” Dominic ducked as Charlotte threw a ball of paper at him. “Be careful, or you will upset the ink bottle.”
Charlotte scowled at him, and Dominic sighed. He glanced at the paper before him and said, “Give me a few moments. I need to think.”
“I imagine thinking must be a rather taxing pastime for you.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Dominic replied sarcastically. “How about this, ‘Would that I had the words to assuage your fears, yet I sense that words will do little in this instance. And so, I must show you through my actions.’”
“And how exactly do you plan on doing that in a letter?” Charlotte asked, sounding perplexed.
“I planned on asking you why you felt such strong dislike towards rakes. Most people agree they are not necessarily paragons of virtue, but few seem to loathe and distrust them as you do,” Dominic said.
