Because Lucius Nathaniel Elijah Duff, the Seventh Marquess of Thundersley, had quite a talent for prose himself, albeit not the most romantic sort by any standard. But more so to her because they lacked the flowery and poetic sentiment she had always distrusted. Luke’s words had, either intentionally or not, touched the most soft and guarded part of her heart, and she was most definitely going to treat it as her first official love letter which she would treasure for ever.
On the pretext of chasing more tea, she escaped to the quiet of the hallway and read it one more time, just to be certain she hadn’t imagined the wonderful implications she had gleaned from the text.
My darling Hope,
Sometimes I am a ham-fisted clod with straw for brains.
Yesterday was one of those times.
I am still kicking myself for unintentionally demeaning your achievements and spoiling what should have been a celebration by charging in and assuming I knew best when clearly I do not.
Know that I am sorry and that I am inordinately proud of you. I wish I could promise faithfully that I will never behave with such supercilious cloddishness again but, alas, I fear that we both know such a miracle is unlikely to happen.
As the years go by there will doubtless be many, many, many more occasions when I put my clumsy big foot in it. When you chide me for being an overbearing idiot, as you inevitably will, because I’ll doubtless deserve it.
Know too that, however misguided, it always comes from a good place. As my mother will attest, I am intrinsically prone to be overprotective of those I adore the most. Unfortunately for you, I now include you in that tiny and exclusive circle, and suspect, rather alarmingly, I already adore you the most of all.
Your own devoted clod for ever,
Luke
P.S. Apologise to your mother for me, for stealing her precious roses again. In my defence, it was an emergency. I shall endeavour to find another plentiful supply forthwith as we both know I shall inevitably need them.
It wasn’t an outright admission of love. He hadn’t actually used the heady words I love you at all—but she could read between the lines. ‘For ever’ and ‘adore’ certainly implied a depth of feeling similar to hers. And as the years go by also suggested they were stuck with one another for the duration. She had read the missive at least thirty times this morning already and was quite convinced there could be no other way to take it.
The sharp rap on the door snapped her out of her dreamy revelry and she quickly slipped the precious missive back into her pocket before anyone spotted it. ‘I’ll get it!’ Because it might well be him and she might well need to fling her arms around his vexing neck and kiss him. But as she pulled the door open expectantly, there wasn’t a tall, contrite and sinfully handsome pirate on the front step, only another messenger.
‘I’ve a message for Miss Charity Brookes.’ The boy held a small letter out. ‘I’ve instructions to wait for her reply.’
Intrigued, she rushed it to her sister and then stood over her as she read it. Never usually speechless, Charity blinked back at her dumbfounded and passed it to Hope to read aloud to their parents.
‘It is from Mr Kemble at the Theatre Royal.’ She scanned for the pertinent details. ‘After Charity’svirtuosaperformance on the last night ofCosì fan Tutte, he has decided he must have her for the role of Susanna inThe Marriage of Figaroin the new year!’
‘An audition?’ Her mother’s jaw fell open as she hurried over to read it for herself.
‘No, Mama—his letter is quite specific. See...’ She underscored the pertinent sentence with her fingers, checking it for herself too as she repeated it slowly. “I cannot think of a more perfect fit for the Countess’s maid Susanna than you, Miss Charity, and would therefore like to offer you the role.” He goes on to say that nobody else has been cast yet but that his mind is quite made up!’
Her mother snatched the letter to show their father, who had also stood. ‘Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness! It is one of the leading roles inFigaroand Susanna has four arias! Four, Augustus! More than any of the other characters.’
‘Mr Kemble has asked the messenger to await your response, Charity.’
Her sister nodded blankly.
‘Shall I tell him you will think upon it?’
‘Of course not!’ Her mother dashed over and shook Charity by the shoulders. ‘You have to say yes! This is an enormous role... Mr Kemble does you a tremendous honour in offering it to you. Only a fool wouldn’t bite his hand off for the opportunity.’
Tears swam in Charity’s eyes as she sucked in several calming breaths, then she screamed as she sprang up to hug their mother, then Hope, jumping up and down and beaming from ear to ear. ‘Tell him yes! Of course it is a yes!’ Then she stopped and clutched her stomach. ‘Oh, good gracious I can barely breathe!’
Her father left them squealing and paid the messenger, then hugged Charity tight as he grinned at Hope. ‘Well done, dearest. What a day this is turning out to be, ay?’
‘Ay indeed! We are blessed, Augustus!’ Her mother was beaming from ear to ear. ‘A singer, an author and an artist! What did we do to deserve such talented daughters?’ She hugged Hope again for the twentieth time and then did the same to Charity. ‘I declare not another family in Christendom can boast of three more accomplished, beautiful and brilliant young ladies than my Faith, Hope and Charity.’
‘We are blessed indeed,’ said her father with a subtle roll of his eyes towards his daughters because she had been saying much the same since last night when Hope had originally told them her news.
‘It is bound to make you both more eligible.’ It never took their mother long to remind them that they still weren’t married. For Roberta Brookes, a happy marriage topped all other achievements by a country mile. ‘Accomplished ladies are a much more attractive proposition to the opposite sex.’
Now it was her turn to roll her eyes at her mother. ‘Good grief I hope not as I have quite enough propositions from them already, and most of them are quite scandalous.’
