Waltzing With The Earl

‘Well, only time will show. But to the purpose of my visit today—’

‘Yes, do get on with it, Adam.’

The Captain made a childish face at Charlotte, whose eyes danced in mischievous response. Their exchange was noted, causing Charlotte a moment’s discomfort as the Earl’s grey eyes pierced her with a keen glance.

She raised her eyebrows, undaunted, though she was assailed by the unexpected memory of old Lord Carmby, an arrogant diplomat who had crossed Charlotte’s path in Vienna. His caustic put-downs had alienated all who knew him there. He had once called Charlotte ‘a forward, opinionated brat’ when she had daringly questioned his views on a political matter. Luckily, Papa had not been within earshot. Hmmm... She hadn’t been made to feel like a child for a long time. Anger began to burn in her chest.

‘Now we are out of mourning, I think it is important for the family—indeed, for everyone at Chadcombe—that we resume normality. My father was ill for a long time, and as you may know my mother died three years before him. So I have decided to invite a small party of friends to Chadcombe after Parliament rises. My great-aunt—Miss Langley—has kindly agreed to act as hostess. I would be delighted if you and your family—and your guest, of course—’ he glanced at Charlotte ‘—would agree to visit.’

‘Visit Chadcombe?’ Henrietta came to life, an excited smile lighting her face.

Mrs Buxted sent a quelling glance to her elder daughter. ‘Of course we should be delighted to visit Chadcombe. It is an age since we were in Surrey—almost a year ago, I believe. We have not visited Monkton Park since last summer. To stay in Chadcombe would be unusual, since our estates are so close together, but we are grateful for your invitation.’

Henrietta explained to Charlotte. ‘My grandfather’s sister left Monkton Park to us two years ago. It adjoins Chadcombe’s lands to the east.’

Mrs Buxted continued. ‘We inspected the place when my aunt died, and have visited occasionally.’ She turned to Lord Shalford. ‘We could not call on the third Earl—your father—because of his illness. Monkton Park is a pretty little estate, though we prefer our main home, near Melton Mowbray. Monkton Park has been left to whichever of our daughters is married first, although the old lady positively doted on dear Henrietta.’

Henrietta smiled slightly.

‘Of course that question has never been in doubt, for Henrietta is the elder...and so pretty. My aunt clearly intended she should have the estate. And so she shall—just as soon as she is married!’

The room was silent. Charlotte looked down at her own hands, which were clasped so tightly the knuckles were white.

Aunt Buxted, oblivious, continued after a pause. ‘I shall of course check with Mr Buxted, but I am almost certain we have as yet no fixed engagements for July.’

Henrietta said nothing, but Charlotte, glancing across, saw a triumphant gleam in her eyes. This, then, was what she wanted.

‘Excellent,’ said the Earl. Turning to Henrietta, who quickly adopted an innocent, guileless expression, he added, ‘And you, Miss Buxted? Will you be happy to visit my home?’

‘Indeed I shall, Lord Shalford.’ Her voice was quiet, well-modulated, gentle.

The Earl nodded approvingly—satisfied, it seemed, with her muted response.

Charlotte suppressed a smile. If he had seen Henrietta earlier, shouting shrilly at Faith about a length of ribbon, he might not be so sanguine. Charlotte had been glad to go riding, simply to avoid the tantrum. Henrietta, she had realised, was much indulged by Mrs Buxted, and as the elder—and prettier—daughter, held prime importance in her mother’s mind.

The pliant Faith was expected to sacrifice any treat or privilege if Miss Henrietta desired it strongly enough. Including, it seemed, the chance to marry an earl. Charlotte had gently suggested that Faith be stronger in standing up for herself. Faith, admitting she was easily crushed by unkindness, had vowed to try.

The men took their leave a few moments later, as was correct. The Captain bowed to Charlotte, expressing the wish to see her again soon, while Lord Shalford nodded his head perfunctorily. Mrs Buxted watched closely, her eyes narrowed.

When they had gone, she turned immediately to Henrietta in triumph. ‘My dear Henrietta, this is good news.’ She smiled sweetly at her elder daughter. ‘We are all included, but it is clear the invitation is especially for you. If you make the most of this opportunity, he will declare himself at Chadcombe.’

‘Oh, Mama. He did ask me particularly if I should enjoy visiting his home, did he not? Just think—Chadcombe. The Fanton estate. And I am to be mistress of it!’

‘Now, my dear, do not think you have already won him. You must secure him first. Though I dare say any man in England would be delighted to wed you—with your beauty, your pedigree, and your ladylike demeanour.’

And your property! Charlotte thought, then chided herself for being uncharitable. Monkton Park was clearly part of the marriage deal. And with a handsome dowry as an added sweetener, Henrietta would be an attractive prospect to any suitor.

Priddy had told Charlotte already that the Buxteds’ Melton Mowbray estate, as well as the townhouse, was entailed on Mr Buxted’s heir—a distant cousin living in Leicester with a wife and a brood of children—so there would be nothing for Faith apart from her dowry.

Charlotte reflected that the Fantons did not look as if they were in need of rich wives—they behaved with the confidence of the wealthy, and their clothes were of the finest quality—but money was certainly a consideration for many men looking for a bride on the marriage mart.

She did not know what her own dowry was to be. The question was not one which had much occupied her. But since arriving in London, and seeing the Buxteds’ preoccupation with weddings and dowries and money, she had abruptly realised she did not exactly know how wealthy her father was. Living in different places across the continent, they had always seemed to have enough money, and she had never wanted for anything.

Her aunt, it seemed, knew more about it than she did herself.

‘I have asked my husband about your dowry, Charlotte,’ she had said bluntly after dinner last night. ‘He tells me that he imagines your fortune will be modest, due to debts from your grandfather. He believes Sir Edward will have put away a little money over the years, out of his soldier’s pay, but he is sure it is not a substantial amount.’

Charlotte had been taken aback by her aunt’s frankness. Papa never talked about money, and it had never been clear to her how much independent wealth he had. There was the family home in Shawfield, which she had not seen since she was twelve, and which had been rented out for many years. She vaguely remembered talk of mortgages, and had formed the impression that her grandfather had not been prudent with money—which fitted with the Buxteds’ conclusions.

In Austria, Herr Lenz, Papa’s man of business, had certainly been exceptionally active on his behalf, but Charlotte simply did not know exactly how things stood. Nor had she thought about it until now. This was the effect of being in England and seeing Aunt Buxted’s blatant manoeuvrings on behalf of her daughters.

Papa had made a banker’s draft over to Uncle Buxted for Charlotte’s pin money and expenses in London, and had offered to pay for the stabling of her horse, though this had been politely declined by Uncle Buxted. Her uncle had written to Papa just before Charlotte had left for England, to say he would not accept a penny for Charlotte’s keep, but would be happy to act as banker for her during her stay.

Charlotte wondered now if her uncle had been trying to be kind, if he thought Papa could not afford to pay. Her back stiffened and she tightened her lips.

‘Oh, Mama! Did you notice how he looked at me? And how he asked me particularly if I should be happy to visit? He had eyes for no one else.’

Henrietta’s excited voice brought Charlotte back to the present. Her cousin was flushed with success, and Charlotte guessed there would be little else talked of today.

Suddenly unable to stomach Henrietta’s glee, Charlotte excused herself, saying she needed to practise her music. Walking lightly down the stairs on her way to the morning room, which housed a fine pianoforte, she was surprised to see the two gentlemen only just leaving. They had clearly been waiting for their carriage to be brought round. The brothers did not see her, but she was able to hear a snatch of conversation between them as they left the house.

‘...guest is a charming girl.’

‘Perhaps—though she is a little impudent. Another silly girl, like all the rest.’

‘Really, Adam, at least she shows spirit. I cannot understand how you can prefer—’

Impudent? Silly? Such was the Earl’s opinion of her? There could be no other possible interpretation.

Oh, I hope he marries Henrietta! she thought, and images of marital disharmony momentarily soothed her wounded pride before she was struck by the ridiculousness of the situation and, laughing to herself, continued on her way.

Chapter Three (#u23f81156-3224-52fb-b847-78f98a744fdd)

True to his word, Captain Fanton arrived at Buxted House the next morning on a well-balanced grey stallion. Unexpectedly, his older brother was with him, also mounted on an impressive thoroughbred—though his was all black, and sidling impatiently outside the house.

Charlotte’s heart sank. The Arrogant Earl!

‘Hold, Velox,’ he said, turning the stallion in circles to quiet him.

They had timed their call well, for Charlotte had just left the house for her morning ride with her groom. She was wearing a dashing riding habit in dark blue velvet, finished with fashionable military epaulettes and silver buttons. Her striking outfit was completed by a tall shako set at a rakish angle.

‘You look charming, Miss Wyncroft,’ said the Captain, his eyes full of admiration as she mounted Andalusia with Joseph’s assistance. ‘And your mare is a fine specimen. Do your cousins accompany us?’

‘Not today—though they did express a wish to ride on another morning. I am sorry to disappoint you. They have gone shopping.’

Though if Henrietta had known the Earl would come...

‘Ah, the favourite pastime of females.’