Perfectly Flawed (3 page)

"You cannot!" Aunt Penny told him. "It is impossible
to accept your offer, in any case, since the Duke is not present. I suggest you delay your proposal until such
time as you can speak to His Grace."

"Wait? I have been waiting for these past two years ...
I have been most patient and faithful. I beg that I have a
chance to win her heart!" Lord Carlton's voice rose, although it held a slight emotional quaver.

"There is nothing for it, sir. You will have to wait.
You have no choice." Aunt Penny stood up to him, not
allowing him to bully her. "The offer for marriage must
be put forth to the Duke. If you wish to see Lady Charlotte, you must remain belowstairs until she awakens."

"Very well." He strode to the wall of Sheraton chairs
on one side of the Grand Foyer and lowered himself onto
the seat with great dignity and an air of stubbornness. "I
shall remain fixed here until Lady Charlotte arrives."

Charlotte sat in bed having her morning chocolate.
She had had such a splendid time last night, dancing
every dance and talking with so many gentlemen, that she
could not remember who was whom after the long evening. Even after a full night's sleep, she felt fatigued.
She still had a few days to rest before leaving for London at the end of the week.

There was a light rap on her bedchamber door before
it was pushed open. Muriel leaned in and called to her,
"Char-Char?"

"Moo?" Charlotte leaned forward. "Come in, please.
Oh, and Aunt Penny ... Is there something wrong?" For
both to arrive before she had risen must be an indication
of some trouble indeed.

"Dear, I do not mean to cause you distress," her aunt
told her. "But Lord Carlton is belowstairs and insists upon
seeing you"

"Lord Carlton Wingate?" Charlotte handed her cup
of chocolate to her aunt and readied herself to rise from the bed. Charlotte felt terrible. Here she lay idle, wasting
Lord Carlton's time, making him wait for her. "Why has
he called so early?"

Muriel stood at the window, gazing outside, and remained silent.

"Lord Carlton may not be your only visitor today,
Char-Char," said Aunt Penny, as she set the Dresden china
cup aside to help her niece out of bed. "There were so
many gentlemen and not nearly enough sets to accommodate them. Since they could not all dance with you
last night, I told them they should feel free to call during
the next few days."

"Exactly how many did you say this to?" inquired
Charlotte.

Muriel spoke over her shoulder to her relatives, transfixed on the view before her. "There are a good two
dozen or so gentlemen on their way here now, I'd say."

"What?" Aunt Penny left Charlotte's bedside, moving to the window.

"There's a long line of carriages, and many more men
on horseback, coming down the road in our direction."
Muriel need not have described the unusual sight, as
Aunt Penny was standing next to her in a thrice. Charlotte flung her covers aside and leaped out of bed to see
for herself.

"Oh, no!" Aunt Penny stared at the gentlemen who
would soon be descending upon Faraday Hall.

"Look how many there are," said Charlotte, staring
out the window. Far off in the distance she could see the
line of carriages.

The three remained quiet for several moments.

"We were to leave for Town by week's end," Aunt
Penny finally said. "But if all the eligible gentlemen are
here-it is just as your aunt Mary had written to us"

"And we can see as much for ourselves," Muriel added.

"There is no need to travel to town, is there?" Aunt
Penny said, sounding as if she were faced with a conundrum.

Charlotte could not believe her dream of going to
London for the theater and parties, and visiting the infamous assembly rooms of Almack's, would be for naught.
It appeared she was to remain in the country instead of
partaking in the gaiety of the Season.

"If the eligibles are here, I wonder what types of males
remain behind." Muriel mused aloud.

"Not anyone with whom we would care to rub elbowsyoung bloods, ne'er-do-wells, and wastrels who frequent
clubs and have more interest in gambling than courting
young ladies." Aunt Penny swept Charlotte's unbound
hair behind her shoulders, indicating she had indeed referred to her niece.

"It is a shame they cannot stay here, as Augusta had her
suitors attend our house party after the Season," said
Charlotte, but she knew this was a suggestion that could
not be realized.

"Only gentlemen?" Aunt Penny seemed to consider the
notion, but it was obvious she did not like it. "Oh, no.
We cannot have only gentlemen as guests. That would
not be proper at all. They simply must remain where
they are. There is nothing for it"

Aunt Penny sounded a bit worried, and more than a
bit apprehensive. "I think I had best write your father. I
realize he is occupied, with Parliament in session, but
he might think it more important to return home to deal
with family matters"

"What about having the gentlemen to supper?" Charlotte suggested, hoping for a more acceptable solution to
their problem at hand.

"We still need to invite some women," Aunt Penny replied. "All the young ladies who are out are in Town.
There are no eligible ladies remaining to invite for supper
or for a ball, for that matter. This is all quite vexing."

"What if we had the gentlemen for tea?" Charlotte
put forth.

"We certainly could manage that, don't you think?
We could have Cook make some small cakes, tarts, biscuits, and assorted savories." Aunt Penny seemed agreeable to the notion. "That certainly sounds manageable."

"Especially if we reduce their number down to a half
dozen or so," said Muriel. "I'm not yet sure how we are
to accomplish such a feat" It appeared Muriel, whom
Charlotte considered so very clever, was coming up with
one of her ideas. "I own there must be a way. It would
be better yet if it could be done where we need not do
the pruning."

"Only six?" Aunt Penny sounded somewhat taken
aback. "How can we possibly manage that?"

"I am not yet entirely sure. I shall first see to the simpler task of removing just one," she said, stepping away
from the two and making her departure. "You may stand here and watch from the window, if that is what you
like."

Charlotte did not exactly know what her sister would
do but dreaded what would happen next. "We must stop
her!" She made to dash out the door in pursuit, but Aunt
Penny took hold of her arm.

"I think it best we allow Muriel to continue." Aunt
Penny led Charlotte to the window for a view of the parterre below.

There must be a better, kinder way to discourage a
man. Charlotte then remembered poor Lord Carlton who
waited in the Grand Foyer.

"Oh, no. I'm sure Moo is going to be absolutely
wretched to Lord Carlton and cause him to flee!"

Muriel descended the staircase to find Lord Carlton
Wingate perched upon one of the many chairs in the
Grand Foyer, waiting for Charlotte to appear.

He rose upon her arrival and bowed. "Good day to
you, Lady Muriel."

"May I have a word with you, my lord?"

"Of course." He glanced about for Charlotte. Muriel
decided she would keep it to herself that her sister would
not be joining them.

"If you would please follow me." Muriel intended to
lead him out of the house for, hopefully, the final time.

"I dare not leave," he insisted, refusing to step a foot
away from his chair. "I await Lady Charlotte."

"That is exactly what I wish to speak to you about, my lord," Muriel confided to him. "She will not make
an appearance for at least an hour."

A lackluster "Oh" was his reply. Clearly he did not like
the news of another hour's wait. "Very well, then."

Muriel led the way down the corridor and out the side
door to the parterre, where her sister and her aunt could
watch the proceedings from Charlotte's bedchamber.

"I would like to come straight to the point if I might,
my lord," Muriel began. "This may sound forward, but I
need to know if you truly believe you have a chance to
win my sister's affection."

"A chance?" He seemed surprised by her question.
"Excuse me for sounding perhaps a bit confident regarding my station, but my father is the Marquess of Albany."
He stood straighter and held his head higher with pride
at the announcement.

"Yes, that's what I understand-a noble family," she
agreed, and allowed a note of doubt to trickle into her
voice. Lord Carlton had come from a fine family; there
was no doubt about that.

"Yes, one of the noblest," he stated with pride.

"And you are a younger son-one of four, if I recalland the youngest. So there is really no chance of coming
into your father's title, is there?" Muriel wrinkled her nose
and smoothed her hair with two fingers. "Quite a shame,
really."

Lord Carlton mumbled something. Muriel pretended
not to hear his protest.

"Well, I must say there are all types of men Charlotte has to choose from. There are the rich"-she ticked off
on her finger-"and then there are those who are extremely rich. Some of the gentlemen are handsome and
some are prodigiously handsome, indeed." Muriel sighed,
displaying a smile proving that she, too, had been captivated by the very same gentlemen. "Most of them are
titled or will come into their family titles. There are not
many younger sons, mind you, but they are all younger
men."

Lord Carlton's hand-wringing did not go unnoticed.
If Muriel was not mistaken, it seemed his face had grown
a bit redder with mounting frustration regarding her
observations of his competitors.

"I am not ... no, indeed, I am not all that old." His
uncertainty and the strain he felt was evident, lacing
through his tone. It sounded as if he did not even believe
his own words.

"Of course not," Muriel cooed with a smile, doing
her best to imitate Charlotte's agreeable manner, the one
that seemed to please gentlemen. "If I am not mistaken,
you were six and twenty when you courted my sister
Augusta"

She looked at him for confirmation. He did not give it,
but by his obvious omission, Muriel assumed she must
have been right.

"That would make you now ... eight and twenty?
Oh, dear, nearly thirty years of age. Really? Oh, that cannot be correct" Muriel glanced at him as if she simply
could not believe she had calculated the sum properly.
"Charlotte, who is eighteen years of age, will not mind a difference of a mere ten years," she said to reassure
him, but not in a wholly confident tone.

"There are many marriages whose husbands and
wives share such a discrepancy in age-more of an age
difference, in fact," Lord Carlton stated with certainty.
But something about him, the slight slouch of his shoulders, the crease between his brows, or the downturn of
his mouth, conveyed that he felt more than a bit uneasy.

"Of course, you are correct," she quickly agreed, thinking of arranged marriages where the bride did not have
a choice in whom they married. "I am sure that if Charlotte were truly in love with a gentleman, even if he were
more than a decade older ... it would not matter to her
in the least "

Muriel paused and narrowed her eyes to give the impression she was considering the matter-believed it,
even. Her reaction did not seem to lend Lord Carlton
comfort.

"As a young lady approaching a marriageable age
myself," she muttered, as if allowing him to hear her
innermost thoughts, "I believe it might be easier, on the
whole, to fall in love with a younger man."

"But I am here now, young lady." The uncharacteristic sternness in his voice did not frighten Muriel. "And I
wish to pay my addresses."

Muriel tilted her head and batted her lashes, as she
had seen Charlotte do many times. "I do not think you
dare suggest marriage to her, not without speaking to
our father first. No, I cannot see it done."

Lord Carlton was beginning to quake, but still no crack in his already shaken self-confidence was in sight.
She needed to continue a bit longer.

"It is true that you are the first to arrive and, perhaps,
the first who wishes to make an offer but, sadly, I do not
believe you are alone."

"What?" came his choked response. "I beg your pardon. I do not believe I-"

"There" Muriel pointed off into the distance, to his
left. "Do you see? Charlotte's young men are coming to
call."

Lord Carlton's eyes widened upon seeing the long
line of carriages and men on horseback approaching
Faraday Hall. An expression of horror washed across
his blanching face.

"Oh, no" He clasped his hands together, pleading
with her. "Please, you must allow me to see her, to speak
to her. I must tell her-"

"I'm afraid that will not be possible." A twinge of
guilt passed through Muriel. She really disliked having
to resort to something so ... sinister, but this would be
the best for Lord Carlton, really.