Page 4 of The Truth about the Rogue
“I do step out into society,” Charlotte answered, sharply, her anger beginning to rise as Lillian offered her a small, tight smile. “Simply because I do not desire the fashionable hour does not mean that society does not know me.”
Lady Morton nodded.
“Precisely.”
“But there is also the presentation of our family that Charlotte must consider,” Lillian continued, refusing, it seemed, to drop the issue. “To have her so pale and so quiet might make thetonthink that we are both of the same dull nature and then they will not come near to me! The least Charlotte could do would be to wear her most complimentary gowns.”
Charlotte closed her eyes as anger burned up through her chest.
“Lillian, will youpleasedesist? I am not going to change my gown, despite your protestations. I think that what I am wearing is perfectly suitable and – oh!”
Lillian immediately cried an apology, but it was much too late for that. The cup of tea she had been holding, the one she had been making to set in front of Charlotte, had somehow tipped and the contents had splashed all over Charlotte’s gown.
“Lillian! For heaven’s sake!” Their mother got to her feet at once, taking Charlotte’s hand to pull her up from her chair. “Charlotte, are you quite all right? That tea was very hot.”
“I am well,” Charlotte answered, her heart pounding as the anger she had felt now began to turn to fury. “Lillian, you did that purposefully!”
“I did nothing of the sort,” Lillian exclaimed, her hands going to her hips. “It was an accident, that is all.”
“I hardly think so,” Charlotte answered, narrowing her eyes. “You were so determined that I should change my gown that you have forced my hand!”
She heard Lillian’s protests of innocence but, at the same time, saw the flickering smile that Lillian tried so hard to hide.
“There is nothing to be done but for you to go and change,” Lady Morton said, sighing and passing one hand across her eyes. “Lillian, though you have said it was an accident, I must hope that you are speaking the truth.” She paused for a moment as if to give Lillian time to announce that no, she had not been telling the truth in stating it had been done accidentally, but Lillian only sat down again in her chair and reached for her teacup. Charlotte’s fury rose to even greater heights, and, for a moment, she thought about sitting down again and refusing to move, even with her gown being as it was. “Please, Charlotte,” her mother continued, sounding rather weary. “I know that you did not want to do so but please, go and change your gown. The gentlemen callers will be here very soon, and I do not want you to miss any of them.”
Charlotte saw the hint of a smile linger on Lillian’s face and heard the words whisper back again in her mind.
“I am sure that Lillian can do very well without me,” she said, her voice a little hoarse, such was her frustration which, now, was beginning to turn to upset. “Do excuse me.”
She did not heed her mother’s call, did not listen to the words encouraging her to come back just as soon as she could. Instead, Charlotte picked up her book and hurried from the room, rushing upstairs to her bedchamber where, finally, she found a little solace. The anger she had felt take hold of her when Lillian had first spilled the tea on her gown had quickly faded, leaving Charlotte now with nothing but hot tears and a heart that ached. Yes, she was different from her sister, yes, she was markedly altered in what concerned her as opposed to what concerned Lillian, but did her sister have to take that with such seriousness? Charlotte had never imagined that Lillian’sdetermination to have her change her gown would reach such a fervor!
“I am sure that there will be at least one gentleman who will take note of me,” she mumbled, going to ring the bell so that her maid might come to help her change her gown. “Even if I do not particularly care about the color of my gown.” Try as she might, Charlotte could not rid herself of the words her sister had said about her, and could not hide the pain that those words had caused. She sat down on the edge of her bed and clutched at her book, closing her eyes and feeling dampness on her lashes. Despite all that Lillian might think, Charlotte did truly want to find herself a suitable match, albeit not in the way that Lillian herself thought to go about things. It was as their mother had said - Charlotte wanted a gentleman who would not only know all about her but would think well of all the different parts of herself that made up her character. She did not ask for, nor even imagine, that love might ever be a part of her future, but all the same, to have someone who would treat her with kindness and appreciation was something she could not set aside. “I want to have a gentleman by my side who will not expect me to be more than I am,” she breathed to herself, opening her eyes and wiping away the tears before the maid arrived. “Someone who will value my love of reading, someone who will accept the quietness of my demeanor.” Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes again and squeezed them tightly shut, the pain in her heart burning all the more fiercely.
Though mayhap such a thing will never be possible, and I shall end up alone.
Chapter Two
“Good afternoon, my friend.”
Andrew straightened from where he had been bowing over Lady Bradford’s hand, only to grin broadly and drop the hand immediately, turning away from her at once.
“Glenfield! How good to see you!” The clearing of a throat caused him to pause and turn back to Lady Bradford, who was now looking at him with a slightly lifted eyebrow. “Forgive me,” he said quickly, having no desire to lose her interest in him, “but I must step away. Lord Glenfield has only just returned to London, it seems, and I have not seen him in some months! I shall return and steal more of your time for myself, however. Very soon, I assure you.”
This brought a small smile to the lady’s face, and she gave him both a nod and a touch of her fingers to his before she stepped away. When Andrew looked back to his friend, Lord Glenfield was grinning broadly.
“I see that you have the same intentions this Season as you did last Season?” he asked, as Andrew chuckled. “Might I ask who that lady was?”
“A lady whose husband has disappeared to the continent and has not returned as yet, even though he has been away a year!” Andrew shrugged. “If she wishes for a bit of attention, I cannot blame her for that, now can I?”
He lifted his eyebrows, and his friend laughed aloud, slapping Andrew on the back.
“You certainly have not changed in the least!” he exclaimed, as both he and Andrew made their way to the other side of the room, with Andrew spying the table where a footman waited to dispense glasses of whisky and brandy. “I, however, have decided that I must change.”
This stopped Andrew short.
“I beg your pardon?”
He looked back at his friend steadily, though Lord Glenfield merely shrugged and then reached for two glasses, pushing one into Andrew’s hand.
