“It appears my father employed a third party at the end of his life. Someone who was influencing his decisions and getting him involved in shady schemes that were not usually in his character. If this were to come to light, it could bring ruin not only upon myself but upon others as well. My mother remains entirely unaware of my father’s clandestine dealings. The very thought of divulging this to her fills me with dread.”
In an uncharacteristic show of affection, Edward placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder, and Colin looked up at him in surprise.
“You are going in circles,” Edward said sternly. “We shall get to the bottom of it all, and we shall do so together. Do not trouble yourself further tonight. You need food and brandy, perhaps not in that order.”
Colin chuckled, hopelessly grateful to have such a man to support him.
***
When she returned home from the tea, Charlotte was informed by Waltham, the family butler, that her father had requested that she join him in his study as soon as she was able to.
With a weary look at Sarah, Charlotte removed her hat and gloves and made her way toward her father’s study, feeling deeply unsettled by why he might have summoned her.
Her fears were confirmed when she entered the room and she saw her father pacing before the fire with great agitation. The marquess was a tall man, thickset and imposing. His movements seemed unusually off-balance, and Charlotte wondered if there was more to his mood than she had first thought.
“Charlotte, sit down,” he said abruptly, and she dutifully went to the chair before his desk. The room felt close, and as she tried to inhale more deeply the air was thick and unpleasant at the back of her throat.
Her father stopped pacing, taking up a familiar stance against the fire, his hands behind his back, bushy brows settled over his eyes.
“You know that I have always been proud of how you have conducted yourself up until now,” her father began, his voice low and sincere. “You appreciate, I am sure, that we have returned to London for the sole purpose of finding you a match.”
I could hardly be unaware of it, as it has been all you have spoken about for months.
“I believe there are many men who would be suitable for you. Indeed, I have been impressed by the gumption of some who have approached me directly. Given how long you have been absent, and the necessity for us to remain in the country for such a protracted period, you have clearly made a good first impression.”
Charlotte’s lips thinned as her fingers clutched at her skirts to disguise her anger. She hated that she was being made into a piece of meat for sale. Every time she entered a ballroom, people either saw her as an invalid’s carer or as a spinster who would be lucky to win any favour, having missed the last three seasons.
“Papa, I know how important finding a match is. But we are nearing the end of the season as it is—”
“It is not yet July! There is time until the majority will leave for the winter. You must do your best in that time.”
“I am aware of that, Father, and you know I will do all I can. But must we rush this? I am just out of mourning and—”
“Will you stop obsessing over your period of mourning, girl? You were in mourning for ten months together; that is long enough. Your mother would not wish you to become a wallflower, and if she were here, she would say so.”
“I know what Mama would say. She would declare that this is proceeding with undue haste.”
Her father’s throat bulged at that and Charlotte wished she could bite back the words, but to no avail.
“Yourmotheris gone. She would wish for you to marry, Charlotte; that is the end of things.”
A silence fell between them as a sharp needling feeling began in Charlotte’s chest. She hated this, and she hated her father for forcing her to rejoin the world of the ton.
“Papa,” Charlotte said finally, “I am not disagreeing that I need to make a good match. I have never said so. But society is a place one must get accustomed to. I have been here only a few days, and I am not expecting to find a match immediately.”
“Lord Kilby is a good match. He has shown you some attention.”
Charlotte gaped at him, her face growing hot at his presumption after a single meeting.
“Papa, Lord Kilby is perfectly pleasant—”
“He is an earl, and he is very well-liked. Happy manners, good breeding. He is everything you could want from a prospect. What is your hesitation?”
Charlotte could only splutter in response. Everything felt as though it had been decided for her when she had only had the chance to glimpse the society that she had expected to be part of for months, not days.
“What is your haste, Papa? I do notknowhim. You are being unfair.”
“Stop being insolent, I will not stand for it.”
