“Yes. I saw her huddled in the corner as usual. How are her prospects this season?”
Henry liked Charlotte. She was a sweet woman, although she seemed to have suddenly grown up from the gangly, spirited girl he remembered following him and William around in the summer holidays. She was much more reserved now, but then, it wouldn’t be the thing for her to be so free and easy with him now that she was out on the marriage market. They weren’t children anymore.
“Not too good, unfortunately.” William frowned. “The only attention she gets is from men who are entirely unsuitable. You saw the Earl of Banbury dancing with her? I was glad to see her dancing, of course, but then she immediately ran off to her friends again.”
Henry felt relieved that William wasn’t considering the earl as a suitor for Charlotte. It wasn’t his business, of course, but he was fond of Charlotte and didn’t want her to be made unhappy by a disastrous marriage.
“She doesn’t help herself by behaving like such a wallflower,” William continued, his hands in his pockets as he gazed out over the garden. “She’s in her fourth season. She can’t afford to be so unsociable.”
Henry frowned at that. He didn’t find Charlotte unsociable at all; just a little shy. And he thought she looked rather pretty tonight, although he supposed she wasn’t particularly noticeable in a room full of young women all vying with each other to catch the men’s eyes. Personally, he thought the natural look was more attractive.
“If she just made the effort to be more fashionable or cultivate some conversational skills….” William shrugged. “She’s a capital girl, of course, you know that, but I don’t want to see her married off to someone who won’t give her the kind of life she deserves. And our mother is determined she will marry this season.”
“So is mine.” Henry raked his hand through his hair, frustrated by his mother’s insistence.
He wasn’t in the same boat as Charlotte. As the Duke of Arundel, he was sought after. He wasn’t conceited, but he was all too aware of how this game worked, and he knew that he could have his pick of most of the young women of theton.
As long as his secret didn’t come out.
“Henry!”
He was so deep in thought that the sound of his mother’s voice startled him. She had followed him and William out onto the balcony and now stood in the doorway, her thin lips pursed with disapproval.
“Whatever are you two boys doing out here? You are here to mingle, dear, not skulk on balconies and hide in the shadows.”
“Your Grace.” William bowed, looking terrified. Henry’s mother, the Dowager Duchess of Arundel, could reduce him to a naughty schoolboy with her sharp tongue within seconds.
“I believe I’ve perused tonight’s share of available young ladies,” Henry said, trying to inject a cool sarcasm into his tone and instead sounding merely sulky.
His mother glared at him. “Well, in that case, we may as well take our leave. Good evening, Lord Fitzgerald. Do give my regards to your mother.”
Henry sent William an apologetic look as he followed his mother back into the ballroom. As she said their goodbyes to the countess, he found himself looking around for Charlotte. She was back in the corner with Misses Sutton and Doherty, their heads pressed close together, deep in conversation.
He thought back to her brother’s comments about her poor marriage prospects and smiled sadly. It would be a shame if she were married off to some old lecher. Surely spinsterhood and genteel poverty would be preferable?
But, of course, not everyone was as averse to marriage as he was.
I have my reasons,he reminded himself as he gave his mother his arm and led her outside to their carriage. She maintained a pointed silence until they were well away from the manor, and he braced himself for the scolding that he knew was imminent.
“Henry,” she began in a clipped voice. Her expression was unreadable inside the dark carriage. “It seems you haven’t been listening to me.”
“I can assure you, I have, Mother.”
“Then why are you not yet betrothed? Henry, if you do not marry and secure an heir, then all of the sacrifices that myself and your father have made will have been for nothing.”
Henry didn’t answer her. He knew what was coming and closed his eyes against her words.
“Not every couple would raise a bastard child to be a duke, Henry. By refusing to marry, you are throwing that back in our faces. It is… ungrateful.”
He sensed that if she were willing to be less ladylike, a much stronger word would have been used. But appearances were everything to her.
Hence his next objection.
“And what of the consequences for this future wife and child, Mother, if the truth were to come out? Publicly shamed, excluded from theton…. Is that the life you would wish for an Arundel heir? Not to mention the innocent young woman you wish me to ensnare in such a trap.”
He sensed his mother stiffen across from him and heard her sharp intake of breath. “Then we ensure that the truth doesnotcome out.” The finality in her tone and the way she settled back into her seat told him the conversation was over. As usual, she would have the last word.
The rest of the journey occurred in silence. When they arrived home, he helped her down from the carriage without looking at her, and as soon as he could take his leave, he marched swiftly to his own rooms.
