Perfectly Flawed (2 page)

May 1813. Bloxwich village near Faraday Hall, Essex.

It is the height of the Season and there are no desirable, eligible gentlemen in Town. I cannot say where
they have gone.

Lady Charlotte Worth recalled her aunt Mary's words
from the letter she received just that morning. Charlotte leaned forward to peer out the chintz-draped window of the coach to see a throng congregating at the
front door of the local assembly room.

The crowd of gentlemen, for they were all men with
not a lady among them, blocked the entrance. All manner of carriages lined both sides of the main street. Charlotte had never seen so much activity in their little village
before.

Could this be where the gentlemen who were supposed to be in London for the Season had migrated?

The Faraday-crested coach rolled past the front of the assembly room and turned the corner before coming to
a stop. The carriage door opened. Mr. Ogden helped the
Duke of Faraday's family disembark.

Her younger sister Muriel stepped out of the coach
first, followed by their aunt, Mrs. Penny Parker. Finally,
Charlotte emerged and drew her cloak snugly around her.
She thought it odd that they should arrive at the rear of
the establishment when they had never done so before.

"Did you see how many people were out there?" Muriel remarked to no one in particular.

"That's sure enough a riot at the front portal, ladies.
Best you steer clear," Mr. Ogden told them.

"I think that is the wisest course." Aunt Penny motioned for her nieces to follow her, and they stepped
back from the carriage before it pulled away.

"Don't know why the gents have all flocked to our
fair Bloxwich when they might roost in London." Mr.
Ogden limped to the door. "It'll be standin' room only
tonight, I'm afraid. Half of them will be turned away, for
sure. Never saw such a crush as this in all my days!"

Charlotte noticed the worried expression creasing her
aunt's brow and turned to Mr. Ogden. "Why do you suppose there are so many guests this evening?"

"They all come to meet you, Lady Charlotte." A kind
smile brightened his full, round face. He held the door
open for the three newly arrived guests. "Somehows they
know you've been attendin' the local assembly since a
few months back, and all of them want to dance with
you, I s'pect."

"All of them?" Charlotte felt the blood drain from her face. "That's quite impossible." There were not enough
dances in one evening to accommodate the men lined
up in the street and congregating at the front door.

"Aunt Mary did say Town was thin of men," Muriel
unnecessarily reminded her sister. "I suppose we have
discovered their whereabouts."

"Perhaps we should not go inside," Charlotte suggested. The crowd she'd seen gathering in front of the
establishment frightened her.

"Oh, don't be so hen-hearted, Char-Char," Muriel
scolded, pulling her cloak over her shoulders as if readying herself to march into battle.

"Not all of us can have the courage of the great Roman
general Alexander the Great, Moo." Aunt Penny made
the appeal by referring to Muriel's admiration of the
Roman hero and her fascination of all things Latin.

"Alexander was Greek, not Roman. Besides, Scipio
Africanus had half the army and bested him at the Battle
of Zama," Muriel informed them both.

"The fact remains that each general had a dozen or
more legions behind them for support. Char-Char has
only the two of us." Aunt Penny would no more push
Charlotte into facing her fear of the growing crowd than
allow the fifteen-year-old Muriel to win this argument.

"They were at war," Muriel replied, nearly staring
down her aunt, "not facing an adoring crowd. I cannot
see how it is a reasonable comparison."

No matter how well Aunt Penny had argued on Charlotte's behalf, Charlotte herself decided they had both
been correct. She could not very well have them climb back into the carriage and return to Faraday Hall simply
because she did not wish to face the men who waited to
dance with her.

No matter how many there were, after all, there could
not be legions of men as Alexander had. That would be
very silly indeed.

"Very well, we must go in," Charlotte said, putting on
a brave front, but her insides quaked, and she hoped her
fear did not show. "I thank you for accompanying me,
Moo. I know how you detest attending these gatherings."

"Good for you, Char-Char." Muriel held her head
high, approving of her sister's bravery. "You know I will
always be near if you should need me."

"Aunt Penny? We will continue on, if you please."
Charlotte pulled the fingers of her kid gloves taut, a nervous habit. She could tear the delicate stitching if she
were not careful.

"If that is what you have decided, dear." Supportive
Aunt Penny would see that no harm ever came to either
niece.

The smile her aunt offered told Charlotte she had the
right of it and they should push onward. Her aunt and
her sister were her legions marching by her side.

"If you need anythin', my lady, you call ole Ogden to
come, alright?"

"Thank you, Mr. Ogden." In gratitude, Charlotte
matched the nod of his head with her own. She led the
way through the back door of the assembly room.

Charlotte came to an abrupt stop in the main corridor
upon hearing the male shouts and the violent thumps
shaking the adjacent walls.

"Do you think those are sounds from an adoring
crowd?" Charlotte whispered, glancing about, looking
for the source of the noise. "Just listen."

The voices became louder, slashing through the air
around them, turning angry. Aunt Penny winced at the
scuffling noises and the sound of splintering wood. Muriel startled at a sudden shatter of porcelain, perhaps occurring in the very room next to where they stood.

"Let us continue, shall we?" Aunt Penny led the way
to the cloakroom, where they removed their outer garments.

"Do not worry, Char-Char," said Muriel, straightening Charlotte's puce overskirt rather than her own green
muslin. "One can always count on a good deal of chaos
and unrest when too many men are about."

Charlotte arranged her sister's ringlets, allowing them
to lie more attractively around her face. Attending the
local assembly would benefit her sister as well. In a few
years' time, Muriel will have changed her mind regarding
the opposite sex, and will wish to make a favorable impression upon young men.

"Are you ready, girls?" Aunt Penny asked, continuing
down the corridor. Just around the corner, they'd enter
the main room where the guests gathered to dance.

Charlotte linked her arm in Muriel's and pulled her
sister near as they followed their aunt. "I remember when Gusta's suitors came for the house party. There were
many gentlemen in attendance. I know it was so she
could become better acquainted with each of them-as
did we all, far more than we expected. They were all so
tall and handsome."

"But not always well-behaved," Muriel added.

Charlotte had to agree. The house party had been two
years ago and she, now eighteen, was the same age her
elder sister Augusta had been. Charlotte hoped she was
less naive, having learned some things when it came to
being in the company of adoring suitors.

The trio reached the door and, after they were announced, the once noisy room hushed. Every eye, from
every man, focused upon her.

Charlotte smiled and gazed about the room, taking in
the finely dressed young men. At first glance these gentlemen appeared far better turned out than the males who'd
attended the previous months' assemblies.

The print of their waistcoats and the fit of their jackets
were far superior. But though the cut of their clothing
was much improved, the men looked a bit creased and
had an overall rumpled aspect about them.

Upon closer inspection, the gentleman in the exquisite
blue superfine jacket not only had a darkened eye, he
seemed to be missing two shiny buttons from his garment.

The gentleman next to him sported a large bruise on
his cheek in addition to missing the left pocket from his
waistcoat, which he tried to hide, unsuccessfully, by holding the front of his jacket together.

The music struck up for the interval before the first
dance. Charlotte led her sister by the arm, keeping to the
path behind their aunt.

Muriel, whom Charlotte considered far more observant than herself, must have also noticed the unsettling
appearance of these gentlemen.

"Although they are, on the whole, handsome," Charlotte whispered to her sister, gazing at the men, "they're
not very pretty, are they, Moo?"

Looking across the room and down the whole line,
she further noticed swollen, lopsided lips and reddened
jaws among most of the male guests. A good number of
them exhibited torn jacket seams, crumpled shirt points,
and cravats gone askew. The state of their attire was a
crime against man! How could these men appear in public dressed this way?

"Gracious me!" she finally realized. "I do believe
these men have resorted to fisticuffs."

Muriel had almost not recognized Sir Thomas Granville.
It had been years since she'd seen him, but his fine aquiline nose seemed to have been recently broken. She was
quite certain tomorrow he would be sporting the blackest
of eyes of any gentleman present. And that was quite
something, for she spotted no less than half a dozen men
contending for that honor.

What were these men about? Fighting at the assembly
room? Make no mistake, she had heard them, and so had
her aunt and her sister. Charlotte had commented as much
upon their entrance.

Muriel noticed a man with wavy blond hair, one of
the few faces without a blemish, approaching Charlotte.

"Please, Lady Charlotte," he uttered with a sigh and
bowed. "I beg you remember me, Lord Carlton Wingate.
Do you recall our meeting nearly two years ago?" He
did not pause long enough for her to reply. "I remember
as if it were yesterday. You were merely a young lady of
sixteen. Now, at eighteen, you are even more lovely to
behold."

If Muriel was not mistaken, his eyes were filling with
tears.

"I cannot imagine how it is possible that you have
grown more beautiful since last we met" He gazed upon
her face, her hair, and her dress with admiration.

"I recall watching him being escorted from the Music
Room at Faraday Hall during Augusta's house party,"
Aunt Penny told Muriel in a soft voice, the comment
meant for her ears alone. "He became quite emotional
over Charlotte's harp playing."

"I have been waiting for this day for a very, very long
time," he continued, clearing his throat and blinking
aside the emotion that threatened to overtake his voice.
Lord Carlton made a cursory glance around and then
straightened. "I see there is no one brave enough, or perhaps worthy enough, to step out with you. May I have
the privilege of asking for your first dance?"

Muriel realized that her sister could not very well turn
him down if she wished to dance at all tonight. Surprising as it seemed, Charlotte accepted, appearing entirely
delighted for the opportunity.

Lord Carlton had never looked happier as he led
Charlotte to the dance floor.

Muriel regarded Charlotte's flawless visage. In the sunlight her radiant blond hair appeared guinea gold. In the
flattering candlelight of the assembly room, it might
have appeared she wore a shimmering halo about her
head. How could any man resist such beauty?

Charlotte with Lord Carlton, both flaxen-haired, made
quite the golden couple. The sight of them seemed to spur
the other gentlemen into action. They wasted no additional time in approaching Aunt Penny, asking for an
introduction and a dance with the fair Charlotte.

By evening's end, there would be many unhappy men
and one exhausted sister who conversed with more gentlemen than she could count on both hands and who took
part in every dance. Unfortunately, there would never be
enough dances for every young man who wished to partner Charlotte this night.

At promptly ten o'clock the next morning, Muriel followed Aunt Penny down the main staircase to the Grand
Foyer. Her aunt paused, watching the butler pull the front
door open wide, which revealed a very presentable Lord
Carlton Wingate.

"Is Lady Charlotte at home?" Lord Carlton handed
his calling card to Huxley.

The butler accepted the card and admitted the visitor.
"I shall inquire, my lord."

Aunt Penny motioned for Muriel to stay while she
continued forward. "It is not as if I am not pleased to see you," she said. "I am merely surprised because I
wasn't expecting anyone quite this early."

It was quite early for a morning call. Aunt Penny must
have excused his impertinence because they were in the
country and not keeping Town hours.

"I do beg your pardon." He bowed. Despite the hour,
Lord Carlton had not neglected his appearance. Immaculately dressed in a dark blue jacket, gold-striped
waistcoat, and buff trousers, his blond hair gleamed,
giving him the appearance of a very serious suitor who
had taken great pains in dressing for his visit. "If I had
not arrived now, I may not have been fortunate enough
to have the audience with Lady Charlotte that I desire."

"I am sure there is no need to rush," Aunt Penny said,
sounding nearly as nervous as Lord Carlton appeared.
Muriel could see his hands gripping and crushing the
brim of his hat, in nervousness, she supposed.

"I had hoped that-" He stopped and blinked, looking uncertain. "Well, that is to say-" He broke off again
and cleared his throat. "I wish to express my affection
and make my intentions known to Lady Charlotte."

"Do you not think it a bit soon for that, sir?" Aunt
Penny snapped at him. His declaration shocked Muriel
as well.

"I would like to discuss an offer of marriage." Lord
Carlton stood very tall with newfound confidence, making it evident he would not be dissuaded.