He was explaining this frustrating situation to Charlotte the morning after the earl had left for London. They were sitting at the edge of the lake half a mile distant from the house. Their horses were tethered to a tree nearby, grazing peacefully on the grass that was within their reach.
Margaret had felt a little guilty allowing the two young people to ride off together unchaperoned. But she was busy; she was sorting through all the household linen with Mrs. Foster. She was determined to use the days while Richard was away to do many of the tasks she had been intending to do ever since she had arrived. She wanted the time to pass quickly. She reassured herself, though, with the knowledge that there was no romance between Lottie and Charles.
Charles had a handful of stones and was skipping them across the water. "So you can see why I am getting worried," he said to his companion. "I don't know what I shall do."
"I am sure you will hear from her soon," Charlotte reassured him. "At least you know that she loves you, Charles. You are sure, are you not?"
"Oh, not a doubt of it," he laughed. "She says I am the only one who will stand up to her. When she yells, I yell right back."
"Goodness!" Charlotte commented. "Do you think it wise to marry?"
"There will never be a dull moment," he said cheerfully. "I shall probably beat her daily, but you can be sure she will give as good as she gets."
"Goodness!"
"And what about you, Charlotte, my love? I had great hopes for you when I saw you and Northcott slinking off into the greenery the other night. I was in eager expectation of an announcement before the evening was out. And then I saw you holding court to a veritable army of young sparks, Northcott nowhere in sight. And we have hardly seen him since. Can it be that Juana and I are not the only ones to have blazing rows?"
"He is just stuffy and insufferably high in the instep," Charlotte said.
Charles raised his eyebrows and his throwing arm paused. "Strong words, my love. I take it you still love him, then?"
"I hate him!"
"Yes, quite. Can it be, Charlotte, that the oh-so-proper Mr. Northcott made improper advances? Did you send him way with a swollen cheek?"
"He accused me of flirting, Charles," she said indignantly, "with you."
"Indeed? I tell you what, Charlotte. He must be in love too. Jealousy and all that."
Charlotte said nothing for a while. She absently counted the number of times each stone skipped across the water.
"Do you really think so, Charles?" she asked wistfully at last.
"Eh? Think what? Oh, Northcott? Yes, no doubt about it. You're quite a fetching little thing, you know. I might have fallen for you myself if I hadn't already left my heart with a certain Spanish termagant."
"Am I supposed to be flattered?" she asked doubtfully. "But listen, Charles, I really do need a plan."
"Oh, oh, that sounds dangerous," he said. He picked up a fresh handful of stones and continued to throw them across the water.
A few minutes later, Charlotte gave a loud exclamation of triumph.
"Now look what you made me do," her companion complained. "Spoiled my aim completely and ruined my average. That one did not bounce at all."
"I have it!" she announced excitedly. "When you hear from Juana, I shall come with you to Portsmouth to meet her, though of course I shan't tell anyone I'm going and I shall leave a note for Meg so that she will not worry, but she will not give away your secret, and we shall all come back the next day and you will be excited introducing her to your mother and my brother-in-law, and I shall be delighted too, you see, and everyone will know that I must have known about her all along if I went with you to meet her, and then Mr. Northcott will know that I never was flirting with you if I went with you to meet your betrothed and then he will have to beg my pardon and tell me that he loves me, and he will ask for my hand and everything will be all right. See?"
Charles was gaping at her. "No, I do not see," he said. "Would you mind repeating that? No," he said, holding up a hand as she took a deep breath and opened her mouth again, "don't repeat it. Explain it a different way. And take a breath somewhere along the way, will you, Charlotte, love?"
She wriggled impatiently. "Don't you see?" she said. "It's perfect. When you go to Portsmouth, I shall go with you."
"Hold it right there," he ordered. "That's a scatterbrained idea, if I ever heard one."
"Why?"
"Why, she asks," he said, eyes raised to the sky. "You do not ride around England with a man and no chaperone, my dear."
"Phooey. It would take only a few hours to get there and then I will be with Juana and her servants."
"And what if, by some accident, we were forced to spend a night on the road? You would be hopelessly compromised, my love, I should be forced to marry you and it would be good-bye, Juana, and good-bye, Devin. Perhaps we could introduce them to each other."
"Nonsense," Charlotte said. "For what possible reason could we be delayed on the road?"
"Earthquake. Typhoon. Snowstorm."
"In July? How foolish!"
"Very well. Continue," he said with mock weariness.
"I should leave a note for Meg so that she would not worry," she continued. "But Meg will not give away your secret. But you see, Charles, when I return with you and Juana, everyone will see that I am pleased and that I must have known about her all along."
" 'Everyone' being Devin Northcott, I assume?"
"Well, yes. Anyway, he will be forced to admit then that I could not have been flirting with you, will he not? And then he will be very sorry."
"And grovel in the dirt at your feet and beg for the honor of your hand. What an addlepated female you are, Charlotte."
"Why?" she asked crossly.
"He is much more likely to turn up his aristocratic nose in disgust at a female who would go traipsing around with another man."
"He would not. And don't make him sound so odious."
"Sorry, but I thought he was 'stuffy and insufferably high in the instep.' Anyway, my love, the answer is no. You will have to think of something else."
"No?"
"No!"
"But, Charles-"
"Absolutely and irrevocably NO my love. A strong, strong negative. The opposite of yes."
"Oh!"
Chapter 14
Charlotte was sitting beside Charles in a closed carriage belonging to the Earl of Brampton. She was huddled inside a thin summer pelisse that covered her favorite yellow muslin dress, the one that made her look like a ray of sunshine, according to one admirer. She felt cold and cross. The rain and the mist seemed to have penetrated even the carriage so that she was chilled, and her hair under its yellow bonnet felt as if it had lost some of its curl and bounce. She was certainly not going to be at her best to meet Juana. To crown it all, Charles was stiff and starchy and cross as a bear.
It was two days after their conversation at the lake. Finally that morning Charles had received the letter he had long awaited. He and Charlotte had been in the stables preparing to take their horses for a ride, when a figure familiar to Charles from his mother's establishment in London came riding in on a well-lathered horse.
"John!" Charles had greeted him eagerly, striding toward the new arrival and grabbing the horse by the reins. "You have news?"
"A letter for you from Portsmouth, Captain," John had replied, slipping from the saddle with a thankful sigh and withdrawing a package from an inner pocket.
Charles had whipped it from his grasp and had eagerly torn open its seals. Charlotte had come running to his side. "She's here, Charlotte," he had cried. "At Portsmouth. The Crown and Anchor."
Charlotte had clapped her hands. "How exciting! Are we setting out immediately?"