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Amelia took a sip of tea and eyed Charity over the cup. “I must admit, I barely know Lord Wentwell, but I remember Father said both he and his brother were in the war, as Wentwell’s own father before him. I know he has been The Earl of Wentwell since he was eight, and a peer has little censure. If he was going to sire a bastard, he would have had ample opportunity to do so, but as far as I know, as far as anyone knows, he has not. In fact despite his reputation before this business with Miss Danbury, there was little that was said of him that would have caused true scandal, except that he was once engaged.” Amelia broke off with a frown.
“Engaged,” Charity repeated wide eyed. “Did he breech the promise?”
“I do not know the details, only that the wedding did not occur.” Amelia sat her cup in its saucer and paused thoughtfully. “Still, he is also good friends with Lord Barton. I think that speaks to his character.”
“But if he is a rake,” Charity protested. “After what happened last year with Julia…”
“Oh pish posh,” Amelia interrupted. “You are not Julia. You are not a shy little miss. You never were. So if you want Neville Collington, then you shall have him, rake or no.”
The thought that she could have Lord Wentwell as her own made her heart soar, but the idea that he could love another broke that selfsame heart. That he could cast off her love without a thought, brought a pain that was sharper still, leaving Charity both envious and indignant on the lady’s behalf. That is if Miss Danbury truly was his lover, a small voice reminded her and Charity felt a flicker of hope.
“How do you know me so well, Amelia? How did you know it was Lord Wentwell all along?”
“Because James has always been more like a brother than a suitor, to you, and Michael would bore you to tears, and because I too know what it is to fight ardently against what is in your heart, when your heart already knows what it wants. You have been searching for the man you love, Charity. That man is right in front of you. It is Neville Collington.”
Charity’s heart swelled in her chest. Amelia was right. She felt she may have loved Lord Wentwell from the first time she danced with him, without knowing it. She had been a fool. She desired honesty from a man, but she had not even been honest with herself. Instead, she realized she had jumped to conclusions again.
“I have become used to judging him, and that is my error,” Charity admitted. “I am too quick to search for flaws and allow them to ruffle me. It is neither the practice of a lady nor of a charitable heart.”
Oh, but if the rumors are false… Charity thought. “But Wentwell must hate me. He will never forgive me. I said such awful things, Amelia.”
“I do not believe that is the case,” Amelia said, smiling at Charity. “It is easier than you think to forgive someone you care for deeply, no matter what may have been said.”
“First,” Charity said, “I have to apologize to Lord Wentwell. Oh but how can I? Mother threw him out of the house, and forbade me to even speak to him.”
“There is always a way,” Amelia said firmly. “I promise you we shall find it.”
~.~
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lord Wentwell had been uncharacteristically withdrawn for days. Reginald had warned him. The word was that Michael Poppy was going to make an offer for Lady Charity Abernathy’s hand. The pair had often been seen together, each time causing Neville a strange burst of jealousy that he could not contain and so he kept his distance.
Why would she not marry Michael Poppy? He was respectable, smart, and the Poppy holdings had nearly doubled in the last ten years, thanks to their son’s effort. There was some talk about the Poppys now engaging in business, but there was no actual proof of it.
Michael was on the fringe of theTon, and of course, he was wanting in one way which a daughter of an earl would surely notice. He had no title. However, Lady Charity did not seem as upset by the lack of that feature as many of the other ladies that Lord Wentwell had encountered. Perhaps it was because she was in possession of her own wealth. Perhaps she loved the dull lout? Whatever it was, she spent quite a lot of time with Michael over the last few weeks.
Reg said that even her mother approved, in all her prickly plotting. Save the formalities, it had seemed settled. The thought sent Neville into a fit of melancholy. It was true that as an earl and a gentleman, he had no need to hurry into matrimony, but the same was not true for ladies. If Lady Charity indeed married the Poppy sap, she would be lost to him. He tried to tell himself that it made no difference; that one woman was just the same as the next, but his heart would not agree.
A knock on the door of his office brought Reg to visit. Neville signed the last of his notes and placed them on the corner of his desk for the servants to take out to post.
“To what do I owe this visit?” he greeted his friend with a clap on the shoulder. “What mischief have you and your sister done?”
Reginald laughed. “This is not about me,” he informed his friend.
“Oh, heavens,” Neville groaned, “What have I done now? Tell me the new rumor.”
“I still do not understand how you stomach it,” Reg shook his head. “Why do you allow the gossips to carry on so. You should just make it known that you are innocent of all their ridiculous claims.”
Neville shrugged. He cared not what anyone thought of him save those in his closest circle. They knew the worth of his mettle. Nothing else mattered.
“There are no rumors aboutyouto report this day,” Reginald informed him.
“Whom do the gossipmongers aim to destroy?” Neville asked.
“Not destroy,” Reginald continued in his vague fashion. “I can also confirm from the source that it is no rumor, but truth.”
“Out with it,” Neville said. “I have no use for your guessing games.”
