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“Did I hear a sigh?”
Miss Charming screamed and dropped her needlework, and Charlotte jumped in her chair, knocking her knee against a marble coffee table.
“Ha-ha! Just the entrance I desired. For today, I am your guide in all things startling.” He entered the room, rubbing his hands. “Such a treat have I for you. Nearby lies the ruins of an abbey, its Gothic arches withstanding the onslaught of rain and time. A most fearsome place.”
Miss Charming squealed and clapped her hands. “I love excursions! It’s like we’re on a cruise ship. I mean …” She blushed. “I mean, an old-timey steam-powered cruise ship that’s totally appropriate for … whatever year it is.”
“Can you make it?” Charlotte asked Miss Gardenside quietly.
“Oh yes. I am simply expiring to explore a crumbling old abbey and can only hope, with a most fervent, wild hope, that some horrid murder took place amongst its ancient stones, and just by entering the sacrileged grounds we take upon us a mortal curse and are haunted nigh until death!”
Silence followed Miss Gardenside’s monologue. Then Miss Charming clapped her hands again and said, “Yay!”
“Miss Gardenside,” Colonel Andrews said, bowing, “I believe you shall be most happily satisfied. And Miss Charming, I am pleased to offer you a diversion you have not yet experienced at Pembrook Park.”
The ladies applied their bonnets. The other two gentlemen awaited them out front, Eddie holding the door of the closed carriage, and Mr. Mallery at the reins of a light, two-wheeled open contraption that Ms. Austen might have called a “phaeton,” but which Charlotte was tempted to call a “chariot,” because it reminded her of the chariot races in the movie Ben-Hur. Except there was a seat. And no lethal blades swirling in the wheel hubs. At least, not noticeably.
Colonel Andrews and Mr. Grey helped Miss Gardenside into the carriage, followed by Miss Charming. Charlotte approached to step up.
“Now be kind, Mrs. Cordial,” said Colonel Andrews. “You would not want to deprive us gentlemen the company of these fine ladies.”
Mr. Grey nodded his head toward the phaeton. “Someone needs to go with Mallery. Be a sport, Charlotte?”
The set of Mr. Mallery’s shoulders spoke of impatience. Charlotte became aware of the wrinkle between her brows. Surely this didn’t mean that Mr. Mallery was her Romantic Interest? Eddie was her brother, so that was out, and Colonel Andrews did seem to pay more attention to Miss Charming than anyone else. But … Mr. Mallery? What in her personal profile urged Mrs. Wattlesbrook to pair her with this man? It was surprising, but flattering in a way.
“Eddie.” Charlotte took his elbow and pulled him aside. “Does this mean I’m supposed to go with him? I just assumed … he’s always looking at me in a disapproving way.”
“Disapproving? Of my sister? Impossible. If that were true, I should give him a most stern and scolding sort of look that would cause quakings and shakings of fear.”
Eddie previewed his stern and scolding look, and she nodded emphatically to show she was impressed.
“Now here is the truth of Mallery: if he disapproved of you, he would ignore you altogether. He does not bother with anyone beneath his notice. No, I should say his attentions prove quite the opposite.”
Really? Wow, that made her stomach drop a tad. “But Eddie, is he … safe?”
“Docile as a kitten.” Eddie smiled and gave her a good-natured nudge. “Come now, you are not actually afraid of the old boy.”
“Yeah, kind of. I don’t know. Is that silly?”
“Yes. Completely. But so are you.”
“Eddie, you say these things, and I know I’m supposed to come up with some witty retort, but I panic and my mind goes blank, and I think I’m embarrassing you.”
He tilted his head. “How so?”
“Because I’m your sister. And you deserve a wittier sister.”
“That is wonderful.” He leaned his head back to look at the sky. “Allow me to absorb the wonderfulness of that for a moment. Yes, that will do. Now, you stop worrying about me or anyone. We are on holiday with not a care in the world.”
She glanced over at her waiting escort’s back. “I don’t know what to say to him,” she whispered.
“You do not have to entertain him,” he whispered back. “It is his job to entertain you. Go on, Charlotte. You might enjoy yourself. I have the sense that you are long overdue some enjoyment.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Charlotte approached the phaeton and stood beside it, taking in Mr. Mallery’s profile, his eyes shaded beneath his tall hat.
“Are you joining me, Mrs. Cordial?” he asked, still staring straight ahead.
