The dowager was too busy making a small choking sound to listen. Her hand dropped to Charlotte’s knee and she squeezed it hard.
“The queen! The queen! Sit up straight!Her Majesty is approaching!”
Rotten Row went dead silent as the queen’s carriage drew toward Charlotte and the dowager. No birds dared to chirp, no breeze dared to blow, and even the broad trees that lined the path seemed to stand a little straighter, mimicking the footmen at rigid attention on the box behind Queen Charlotte, the Prince Regent’s mother, and her daughter, Princess Sophia. Certainly no one on the promenade uttered a sound. They were all too busy trying to listen, except for Mrs. Basildon-Hickinbottom, who was old and deaf and poked her daughter hard, crying, “Eh, eh? Heaven’s sake, Margaret! What are they saying?”
“Your Majesties,” said Lady Alice, bowing her head as the queen pulled alongside and stopped. Four perfectly matched bay horses stood still as statues, waiting for the slightest signal from thecoachman, who was dressed in so much gold frogging that Charlotte wondered if they ought to harness up another horse just to bear the weight of it. Or perhaps the weight of the queen’s diamond rivière, which circled twice around her neck before falling in fat teardrops into the gathered lace of her fichu. “It’s an honor.”
The queen pursed her royal lips. “An honor I’m not convinced you deserve. Lady Alice, why have you let this child run wild through London all these years? I’ve brought up six girls without a whisper of disgrace, and yet you bungle the management of a single grandchild. How I wonder at you.”
Hot words leaped to Charlotte’s tongue, and the dowager squeezed her knee hard once more. The queen had borne fifteen royal children in total, and the only three who hadn’t caused some sort of scandal had died young. Of course, it didn’t seem prudent to offer that observation.
“I must admit I could use Your Majesty’s wisdom.” The dowager heaved a deep, dispirited sigh. “Lady Charlotte is a dear child and such a comfort to me as I face the grave, but she’s cursed with high spirits. Does Your Majesty remember how we were at that age? I’d be sogratefulfor your counsel.”
Something like a sparkle appeared in the queen’s eye, making her look younger, or at least less like her official portrait. “Oh, give over, Alice! We’ve sat through too many lectures at the Horticultural Society together for you to lay it on quite that thick. But a young lady alone at a masquerade? Rolling on the floor with a man? You must see it won’t do.”
Charlotte could feel the queen’s gaze rake over her face, and she lowered her eyes and tried to look suitably downcast, even as she boiled inside. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for aproperaudience with the queen where they might discuss something of actual interest. Thesilk trade, for instance, or the foolishness of a world where men held the purse strings and the power. Perhaps if they broke out a bottle of very good burgundy, they could form a council of war and come up with a plot to push Prince George out so the queen could seize the regency?
“Your Majesty,” said Charlotte forcefully, “I—oof!”
The dowager, aware that her increasingly painful grip on Charlotte’s knee was having no effect, had elbowed her firmly in the midsection.
The queen smiled faintly. “Your grandmother’s quite right. Silence serves you best, child.” She inclined her head toward the dowager. “Lady Alice, I do in fact remember how we were at this girl’s age. It quite concerns me! This child needs to settle down and it’s clear that only marriage will do. I considered matching her with one of my boys”—it was all Charlotte could do not to whimper—“but the king would like to strengthen our ties overseas and prefers we look among the Hanoverian princesses.”
At this point, the queen sat up even straighter in her seat, her head held so high that it looked as if her egret plumes were poised to take flight. She gathered herself with a deep inhalation, giving the listening ears the chance to lean a little closer and the watching eyes the chance to squint so they didn’t miss a thing.
“Lady Charlotte has the full support of the crown. However, she needs a good, steady hand to guide her.” The queen paused, and dread built in Charlotte’s stomach, cold and nauseating. “All eligible gentlemen, step forward and extend your hands. Lady Charlotte is to be engaged by the first ball of the next Season, by your queen’s command!”
The queen fixed the dowager’s carriage with a gimlet eye and lowered her voice so the next words were delivered to Charlotte alone. “Did you hear that, child? Find a husband by the end of the summer.Or else.”
CHAPTER 10
There was very little chatterat the dowager’s that night, the ladies of the house so lost in thought that barely a word was spoken in the landau home from the park or even over the dinner table. Lady Alice and Charlotte both retired early as well, drifting up to their rooms like wraiths.
Now, tucked in bed, Lady Alice thumbed absently through the most recent journal from the Horticultural Society, but hybrid orchids held no attraction today. Not even the journal’s wrongheaded opinions about them.
Oh, blast the queen and her appalling edict!
Lady Alice rubbed her chest, where old wounds ached. She still remembered sitting on the hard pews of her village church as a girl, staring longingly out the window at the bees cavorting in the foxgloves, only to be startled from her thoughts by the vicar intoning, “The sins of the father are visited on the son.” Her heart had gone cold—what sort of petty, mean god punished the innocent? Would he punish her? And, oh dear, what had her parents donethistime?
It had taken her years to realize how badly she’d misunderstood. God didn’t punish—he stood by weeping as parents did the work, laying their miseries down upon their children, handing over burdens heavy enough to warp the young bones carrying them.
Lady Alice’s heart gave a painful kick as her thoughts turned to the weight of Charlotte’s inheritance. Two parents with a famous love match that became an infamous catastrophe. Charlotte’s father dead from drinking when she was only five years old. Charlotte’s mother, who had her own talent for ruin.
Was it any wonder the child was out five Seasons, with multiple offers to her name, and still ran skipping away from marriage?
If only—
Lady Alice firmed her mouth and pushedif onlyright out of her head. Such a useless phrase, as she knew well, with a dead son and regret sitting like an anvil on her back, rounding it more with each passing day. She’d seen disaster coming with her son and Margot, and she’d donenothingto stop it, a sin she’d carry to the grave.
Was disaster coming for her family again?
Don’t be such an old fool. Lady Alice smacked her pillow and pulled her coverlet up under her chin.Charlotte’s the best of us. She’ll soldier through.
There was a soft knock on the door and Charlotte pushed it open. “Gran? I saw light under the door and thought you might be awake.”
“Yes, of course. Come in, darling.”
Charlotte padded over to the end of the bed and flopped down on the coverlet. “I can’t sleep, so I thought we could discuss suitors.”
