“So what are you suggesting?” Henry gave William a look of horror. Of course, William didn’t know his deepest, darkest secrets—although he had often wished he could confide in him, if only to share the burden—but his friend had so far been firmly in the bachelor camp with him.
“Pretend to consider it. Let her believe you are at least beginning to think about it. Show a semblance of interest in a few young ladies, but don’t commit. You want to be sure, after all. That way, she will think you’re coming around—but what you are actually doing is stalling. That’s the tactic I’ve adopted for the time being, and it certainly works better than having to argue my point constantly.”
William grinned and knocked back a glug of brandy, pleased with his own ingenuity.
Henry couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a rogue, William.” He chuckled. “You were one at Oxford, and you’re still one now. But maybe you’re right. I could at least dance with the young ladies she points out to me, I suppose.”
“That’s it,” William replied with a nod. “Play for time. We have years yet before we need to settle down with a bride. I don’tknow why they are so impatient. When the time comes, we’ll choose a woman ourselves. No need for all this matchmaking.”
Henry’s mood darkened again. “I will never marry,” he said quietly but in such a tone that William looked shocked.
“You really do mean that, don’t you? It’s not just that you’re not ready. Why are you so against the idea? It’s what awaits all of us, surely? Just not yet.”
For a moment, Henry again longed to spill his secrets to William in the hope of finding relief from them for a few brief moments. But he knew that was unthinkable. William would recoil from him, and then Henry would be even more alone than he already felt. He couldn’t bear to see the look on his friend’s face when he realized that he didn’t truly know Henry at all.
Henry swallowed back the urge to confess and forced a laugh instead, one that sounded hollow even to his own ears. William continued to watch him with open curiosity, but had the tact to let the matter drop—at least for the moment.
The hum of voices around White’s, the soft clink of glasses and shuffle of newspapers, filled the silence.
A puff of cigar smoke drifted between them, and William tapped ash into a nearby tray. “You’ll figure it out, I suppose,” he said, finally. “I can’t pretend to understand your reluctance, but I’m sure you have your reasons.”
“I do,” Henry said in a tone that indicated he intended to discuss it no further.
William took the hint and changed the subject.
Sort of.
“Speaking of marriage—did I mention that Sir Roger Leonard called on Charlotte yesterday?”
Henry straightened in his seat. “Roger Leonard?” He recognized the name instantly; they’d crossed paths with the man at one point or another. An earl’s second son, if he recalledcorrectly—and a bit of an oaf, if the rumors were to be believed. “What the devil did he want with your sister?”
William gave a little shrug and lifted his glass, swirling the last of his brandy. “He wants to court her, I expect. The season is half over, and Charlotte is… well, not exactly inundated with suitors. Perhaps Sir Roger thinks she’s an easy match.” He pulled a face that made clear his own opinion of Sir Roger.
“An easy match,” Henry repeated, his voice low. His teeth clenched unconsciously around the words. He thought about Leonard’s less-than-pleasant reputation and grimaced. “Surely your mother won’t encourage Charlotte to wed him.”
William gave Henry a long look, one eyebrow arched. “Mother doesn’t entirely approve—Leonard’s habits are questionable at best. But Charlotte doesn’t have many choices, does she? She’s not known for her social brilliance. She’s sweet, of course, and perfectly respectable, but she’s not the kind to command attention in a ballroom. She doesn’t flirt or dazzle the crowd.”
Henry experienced a flare of defensiveness on Charlotte’s behalf. “She’s more than capable of sparkling when she chooses,” he said quietly, though he wasn’t sure if William heard him. “It’s just… not her nature to compete for notice, perhaps.”
William nodded, glancing at his friend as though he found Henry’s mild protest interesting. “Perhaps so. But that also means fewer prospects come beating down our door. And you know how it is: If the next season arrives with no offers, talk starts turning to spinsterhood. Nobody wants that.”
Henry pressed his lips together. The idea that Charlotte might feel forced into a match with someone like Roger Leonard sat ill with him. Charlotte was a nice girl. “She deserves better.”
“I agree, but unfortunately our mother doesn’t. She reminds me daily that we cannot afford to let Charlotte waste away without a husband. And Charlotte herself knows that herinheritance is not so grand as to attract a wealth of suitors. Leonard, for all his faults, has at least shown an interest.” William sounded frustrated. “I’d sooner see her hold out for someone pleasanter, but what can I do? She’s a grown woman, and our mother wants her settled.”
Henry wondered why he was so affronted. Charlotte Fitzgerald was no real concern of his. Yet, to his own surprise, he found himself blurting, “You can’t seriously be considering Leonard as a brother-in-law, can you? The man is a cretin.”
William winced. “Of course I’m not. He has about as much refinement as a goat. But you know how it goes: Sometimes one can’t afford to be picky.” He sighed and rubbed his hand across his chin. “Look here, Henry, I don’t like it either. But the truth is that Charlotte’s options are thin.”
“Poor Charlotte,” Henry murmured and then decided to say no more. He felt unnerved by his own reaction to the news.
“Poor Charlotte indeed,” William echoed.
CHAPTER 6
Charlotte drew a steadyingbreath as she surveyed the drawing room for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, hoping that the maid recalled her instruction that their meeting was not to be interrupted.
The large windows let in slivers of bright spring sunlight, and the table was set with teacups, a silver pot of steaming brew, and a platter of enough fresh biscuits and cakes to feed double the amount of guests. She didn’t want anyone leaving early due to hunger.
