Page 74 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
Charlotte was silent, her mind racing. Could it be true? She pictured Henry with Caroline and remembered the way his voice softened when he spoke to her, the way Caroline lit up in his presence.
“But then… why did he propose to you? Why did you accept?”
“You know why. Because society expected it after the Gascoynes all but demanded it. He saved me from Windermere, and it was the gentlemanly thing to do. And I accepted, because I was grateful. But neither of us loved the other.”
“You never loved him?” Charlotte whispered.
“I admired him. I still do. But my heart has always wanted someone to love me for myself. And I knew Henry’s love was based on something… different. Even if I haven’t admitted it.”
Charlotte reeled. Everything she’d believed—about Henry, about Barnaby—crumbled.
“All this time,” she said slowly, “Barnaby’s been lying. About everything.”
Venetia sent her an enquiring look. “Lying about Henry? Well, I was sure Barnaby was making things sound worse than they were but… I don’t know anything about such matters. Charlotte…? What is it?”
“I’m thinking I’ve been a coward. Henry’s reputation is in tatters because I was too afraid to stand up to Barnaby. But no more.”
She seized Venetia’s hand. “We’re going to find Henry. We’re going to that balloon. You’ll be safe tonight—and tomorrow, I’ll reveal the truth.”
Venetia’s eyes widened. “But what about Windermere? My aunt? They’ll come after me.”
“All the more reason to hurry.” Charlotte’s voice brimmed with determination. “It’s time someone told the truth. And it has to be me.”
She pulled Venetia through the throng of laughing guests, hearts pounding, skirts catching on the grass. Windermere was still at the table, but—
“Charlotte!”
Too late.
She turned—Barnaby was there. His hand clamped onto her shoulder, yanking her back, while his other seized Venetia’s wrist.
“No, Barnaby!” she cried, struggling as never before.
But she knew he would not be persuaded to let her go. Not now.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Forlorn, Caroline stooda short distance from her mama and friends, gazing up the hill as she watched Venetia from afar.
It had been no good. Her attempts to protect her friend from Windermere had ultimately come to nothing. There was the young girl, once so vibrant and full of life, now a shell of herself as, once more, she sat imprisoned between Windermere and her Aunt Pike.
Caroline watched as Windermere raised a glass of champagne in unison with Mrs. Pike, who dug her niece in the ribs with her elbow, whereupon Venetia dutifully raised her own glass in what was clearly a toast to the success of the evil plans of those who would control her life. The crystal flutes caught the golden light of the sun, sparkling like tiny beacons across the distance.
“Caroline! What are you doing? Come back this moment!” It was her own mama’s strident voice instructing her to obey. But unlike Mrs. Pike, Caroline’s mama wanted only the best for her, even if “the best” ran counter to what Caroline believed was best for herself.
Dutifully, Caroline returned to her mother’s side.
“Why so glum, my girl? This is a magnificent occasion, and you will not attract a husband with a turned-down mouth. You look as if you have swallowed a lemon.” Slanting a glance at the hill, Lady Weston added, “It looks like you are no longerin the running as a potential wife for Lord Windermere. I can see Venetia looking mighty pleased with herself for dodging an inconvenient pairing with Henry—for all I’ve always liked the boy. Clearly, though, we have no idea what someone is really like, and who would have guessed that the lad we have known all our lives was a forger and a philanderer?”
Caroline took some comfort from the fact that her mama truly did appear sad and disappointed as she snapped her fan open and closed with agitation.
“A forger, Mama?” Caroline’s fingers twisted nervously in the soft fabric of her white muslin gown as she prepared to do battle and stand up for the man she loved.
“He forged his father’s signature to pay off the brother who objected to his sister, the princess’s ill treatment.”
“And where did you come by this gossip, Mama?”
“Why, it is being spouted in every salon and drawing room. His sister, Charlotte, even testified to seeing the incriminating evidence.” Lady Weston lowered her voice as a group of ladies walked by, nodding politely.
