Page 2 of Tempted By an Unconventional Lady
Charlotte smiled, despite the thoughts running through her mind. “You are a good soul, Chelsea Hurtle—soon to be Leming. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
“And you shall be next, if I have anything to do with it,” Chelsea said, a glint of something mischievous in her bright blue eyes.
Charlotte smiled at her friend, though she chose not to answer. Gone were her hot daydreams, replaced instead by thoughts of her life.
She flicked her hair from her shoulder, relishing in the freedom of wearing it around her face rather than tightly pinned up as her aunt preferred. She was a lithe young woman, lean and athletic in build, and she would always opt for comfort over style if she had the choice.
Even now at her age, she could join a game of cricket as well as any of the boys, and she enjoyed the shock on their faces when she did so. Yet with it, she was elegant and graceful. Charlotte bounded with energy, her oak green eyes telling the tale of a young woman full of life and vibrancy and color.
“Perhaps,” she murmured in reply to Chelsea. “But you know I won’t settle for just any man. And I’m rather past the age of looking now, regardless.”
It was not that she didn’t think she could attract a husband. She’d had enough proposals in the past to know that she could. It was more that she wasn’t certain she wanted to. At three-and-twenty years of age, she knew that marriage should be the first thing on her mind but more and more she found that it wasn’t.
The problem was that Charlotte was an educated young lady, and quite unlike the other ladies of theton, she had been raised to think of things other than the marriage market and the incessant need for babies.
Though the second son of a viscount, her poor late father had never had any inherited titles, and every drop of wealth the family owned was down to his hard work as a tea merchant and that alone. When her dear mother died of consumption when she was barely seven years old, he became all the more determined. Thus, he had brought Charlotte up to be hardy, sure of herself, and full of confidence too.
They’d been terribly close after the tragedy that took her mother, and his own death when she was just eighteen had been hard to take. An accident at sea meant she didn’t have the chance to say a proper goodbye, but he left her with a large inheritance that made her stand out from the crowd of other young ladies her own age. She still lived with her guardians, of course, but her self-sufficiency set her against everyone else.
There were lots of reasons why marriage didn’t feature highly in her thoughts, but it was these notions that came to the forefront whenever she thought about it.
She wanted to always be treated as an equal, just as her father had treated her, and though she knew how unusual that was in their world, she wouldn’t settle for anything less. While Chelsea might have been happy to be a pampered puppy of some fancy Lord, Charlotte wanted more for herself than that.
“Not everyone can be as lucky as I am, you know,” Chelsea teased. “There is onlyoneLord Leming.”
Charlotte snorted. “You can keep him. He’s perfect for you, but he would drive me to distraction within minutes of our marriage.”
Chelsea raised her eyebrows. “That’s what I’m hoping for,” she teased before breaking into giggles.
Charlotte giggled along with her friend, enjoying the secret salaciousness of their conversation. It was one of the reasons she loved Chelsea. They had been friends since they were babies, their mothers friends before them, but the older they’d become, the freer they’d become in the way they talked. There was nothing off limits.
And in truth, if anything was to make Charlotte want a husband, it was that need for the salacious. She dreamed of being touched by the hand of a man, of fingers snaking around her body or lips moistening her flesh. She didn’t understand it, of course, but still she lusted after it.
Often, in the secret darkness of her bedchamber, she found her own hands wandering, exploring parts of her she knew to be sacred. Parts that excited her. And the fact that she knew she shouldn’t? That made it all the more appealing.
“It is not for love you are marrying then,” Charlotte teased. “But lust.”
“Can a girl not feel both love and lust?” Chelsea countered. “If anything, I’d wager that it is a truer love which is passionate as well as tender.”
“Is there such a thing as true love?” Charlotte wondered. “Or is it all merely financial convenience and physical attraction?”
“You are cold sometimes, Charlotte. Of course love exists. You just haven’t been lucky enough to experience it yet. You will, one day, of that I can assure you. Though it would be helpful if you were to attend the occasional social event. When was the last time you went to a society ball?”
Charlotte groaned. Balls bored her, and luncheons irritated her. She never seemed to fit in anywhere, always left on the sidelines as the peculiar one, the different one.
Though she attracted the eyes of many a gentleman and the friendship of a fair few of the ladies, it always seemed to be out of curiosity rather than any genuine comradery. It was as if people wanted to meet the strange creature in the corner, the one who stood out against all the ‘normal’ young ladies.
“I am not interested in marriage anymore, Chelsea. I thought I had told you that already.”
“You had, but I don’t believe you. Everyone is interested in marriage—or at the very least, in love. You do not want to grow into an old spinster, do you?”
Charlotte snorted with laughter. “I’m near old enough already, especially in the eyes of theton. Three-and-twenty and still no prospects!”
Chelsea eyed her warily. “You’ve had plenty of prospects, Charlotte. You’ve just refused them. What on earth would your mother have said?”
Charlotte looked down at her fingers, the pads of her thumbs running across each of her sharp nails. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever know, will I?”
“Sorry,” Chelsea muttered.
