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Jean had piled her hair atop her head in the hope that a breeze on the back of her neck might provide some reprieve to the heat of the day. Charity felt exposed. The back of the dress was cut near as low as the front, leaving the breadth between her shoulders bare for all to see. It would help her to remain cool, yet she was now beginning to second guess whether she might have been better off to choose some gauzy shawl to tuck into the frame of the gown so that her skin might not be so readily available for viewing.
“Your skin is clear and pale,” her mother had told her. “There is no reason to go hiding it on a day such as this. Simply remember your parasol to shade you from the sun. Do not leave it behind. Use it.”
“Of course,” Charity agreed as she pulled on her wristlet gloves.
Now, seated upon the blanket that their footman had laid before his departure, Charity wondered if she might have been too hasty in her preparations this morning.
“My dear child,” her father mused as his clear eyes scanned the crowd, “I feel a sudden vigor, as if something remarkable is to happen to us this very day.”
“It is remarkable in itself that we are able to enjoy this concert together,” Charity replied. She would never cease to be grateful for this moment, in all its rarity.
“Soon enough I shall be giving you away to another gentleman,” Lord Shalace said. “Then you shall not have time for picnics and musicales with your father.”
“I shall always have time for you, Father,” Charity said.
He shook a finger at her. “Wait until you have a husband to care for…who will be the lucky man?” He frowned as if wondering if he should know the answer to this question.
“I am sure I do not know.”
His face brightened. “Ah, still making them wait, I see,” he teased. “You must be kinder to the poor gentlemen,” he laughed.
“I shall, Father. I promise.” Charity said as she looked out to the crowd, prepared to play a game with her father, of guessing which unsuspecting fellow might be the one. She soon realized that her father was serious. His eyes searched the crowd for familiar faces. If an introduction could be made, Charity was certain that he would not allow a moment to be missed. She was not sure allowing her father to introduce her to a suitor would be a good idea. She had hoped they would have little interaction with others.
“What is this, Father?” Charity said. “Have you finally begun to share Mother’s thoughts that I should be married with all haste?”
“Only if my daughter takes pleasure in the project,” he replied. His fingers squeezed her own. His strength was much greater than Charity had come to expect. Again, she felt her belief in the waters climb ever higher.
“Father,” she smiled in return, “I would marry this day if it would bring you happiness.”
“Do not marry for my joy, my child,” he muttered. “Though, I will not deny that I would like the day to come while I still have some days to my name.”
“Do not say such things!” Charity cried. “You are renewed, I can see it. You shall have many more days, of that I am certain.”
Lord Shalace nodded as if he was considering his agreement, but did not say a word.
“Have you still no preference?” he asked of his child.
Charity lifted one pale shoulder and allowed it to drop. A vision of Neville Collington flashed through her mind, and she cursed herself for the thought.
“You have thought of someone,” Father said. “Do tell your Father. It is my privilege and my honor to choose a husband for you.”
“To be honest, Father,” she murmured. “I had considered James Poppy for but a moment.”
“But no longer?”
“No.”
“What changed your mind?” her father asked. “James is a decent fellow. He is not quite so well off as your mother might prefer, but your fortune will be more than enough to ensure that you never go without. If you love him, you should have my blessing.”
“He is in love with another,” Charity said with a smile. She was joyous at the revelation, and her father was confused by the reaction.
“You seem quite happy for having lost a suitor.”
“No. He was never truly a suitor, and I love them both. You remember the Muirwoods?”
Her Father frowned considering. She did not want to tax him with trying to remember, so she went right on with her thought, hoping that he would simply let the confusion go and capture something new. “They shall be most happy, I think. I only hope I can find such happiness.”
The crease in his brow grew deeper. He could not understand. Charity feared that he had lost his moment of clarity. She sought to bring it back, by explaining.
