Chapter 5
“It is so late, Ruth, that I nearly did not pull the bell to have you come up here at all,” Charlotte said with something of a guilty tone. “But I have so much news for you that I am sure you will not mind it in the end.”
“I do not mind it at all, Miss. I never mind waiting up and hearing all the delights of the evening,” Ruth said genuinely, and Charlotte knew that she meant it.
Whenever Charlotte was out in society, particularly in the evenings at a dance, ball, or something similar, she always silently wished that she had Ruth there with her.
What fun the two of them would have if they were actually able to discuss the people they inevitably discussed from the vantage point of both having seen and heard the same things.
But it was more than that, and Charlotte knew it. She had many acquaintances but none she cared about anywhere near as much as she cared for Ruth. Charlotte and her maid seemed to be like two peas in a pod when it came to opinions and their likes and dislikes.
Ruth understood Charlotte better than anybody, and it was always so much easier and so much more comfortable to be in conversation with a person who already understood you. Charlotte did not feel the need to perpetually explain for one thing, nor the need to apologize for being different for another.
“Oh, how I wish you could have been with me. How much simpler it would have been and how much more I would have enjoyed myself.”
“Did you not enjoy yourself at all?”
“Oh yes, I did enjoy myself, more or less,” Charlotte said and then thought about it for a moment. Yes, all in all, she had enjoyed herself, not least because she had been surprised by the most unexpected appearance of Lord James Harrington. “Yes, I did enjoy myself. But I would have enjoyed it so much better had I been there with you and not Olivia Orpington and Ariadne Beckwith.”
“Were they not good company this evening, Miss?” Ruth said with a smile, clearly knowing in advance that her mistress was going to answer in the negative.
“When are they good company, Ruth?” Charlotte blew out a great puff of air and sat down heavily on her bed as Ruth took the little stool from beneath the dressing table, pulled it towards her mistress, and sat down on that. “Which is not to say that I do not like them, I just wish I could feel them to be true friends.”
“Yes, you have said as much before. And I think if you do not mind me saying, that if you cannot feel that friendship, then it does not exist. What I mean is, there is no point in chasing something that is not readily available.”
“Very wise, Ruth,” Charlotte said and absentmindedly plucked at the little clips which held her hair up in place.
As she pulled them out, one by one, her rich chestnut hair began to fall around her shoulders and down her back in large, soft waves. Ruth, obviously keen to be doing something, rose from her perch on the stool, took the large paddle brush from the dressing table, and sat down on the bed next to her mistress and began to brush out her hair.
“But did they vex you in some way this evening?”
“Perhaps just a little. Well, maybe I was not vexed, just a little agitated. Or exasperated is probably more the right word.”
“So, what happened? And who else was there that I would be keen to hear about?” Ruth was always excited to hear the details of any social occasion that Charlotte attended, and Charlotte was so grateful for the fact that she had a person with whom she could gossip a little, even air a grievance or two, at the end of such an evening.
“Well, for one thing, and I probably should have said this in the beginning, Lord James Harrington was there.”
“The Duke’s son?” Ruth said with squeals excitement. “He was over here? I mean, does he not live on his father’s estate over in the west of the county? It would seem to be a long way for him to come for a simple dance. I mean, it was not a ball, was it?”
“No, it was nothing so grand. It was very nicely done, though, I must admit. Lady Darnley does put on a very nice spread, and the musicians were absolutely first rate. She does not have a ballroom as such, but rather a large room, a small hall really, and it is perfect for that sort of occasion.”
“Yes, yes, but as nice as it was, would a Duke’s son really make his way so far to attend it? I mean, is he even particularly acquainted with Lady Darnley? You have been there many times before and never once seen him. This is very intriguing.” It was clear that Ruth was already building a story around the event, one of her own, and Charlotte was already feeling herself swept up in it.
“That is a very good point, actually,” Charlotte said thoughtfully. “No, I cannot think for a minute that he is acquainted with Lady Darnley otherwise everyone in her acquaintance would know it. You know what Lady Darnley is like.” Charlotte gave her maid a significant look.
“Oh yes.” Ruth nodded her agreement, really only knowing Lady Darnley through the many verbal accounts given to her by her mistress.
“Anyway, I do not think that he was particularly invited by Lady Darnley. He was with Hector and Lawrence Hanover, and so I can only think that he was a tag-along of sorts.
Probably Hector secured him a proper invite, not that such a thing would be difficult to come by for a Duke’s son.” By the end of her sentence, Charlotte realized that she sounded a little dismissive again.
She could not shake the idea that James Harrington must, even if he hid it well, suffer certain ideas of grandeur and entitlement. Of course, she was bright enough to realize that her own prejudices were likely playing a great part in her assumption, but she did not let that spoil her theories.
“Miss, you must realize, surely, that he was there by design. There is nothing else for it.” Ruth, having finished brushing her mistress’ hair, sauntered across the room to take a fresh nightgown from the dresser drawer.
She laid the nightgown out on the bed and then sat down again, clearly having no intentions of yet helping her mistress to get undressed. After all, there was gossip to be had first.
“I do not know about that, but you are right, it is a little curious,” she said and wondered at her cousin’s friendship with Lord Harrington.
She had never heard him say that he was a particular friend of the son of the Duke of Sandford, although she had never heard Hector say that he was a particular friend of anybody. It was not that he was secretive, just that their families were not quite close enough to know so much about each other.
And Hector was almost ten years older than she was; he would hardly have given her chapter and verse on all his friends and acquaintances in the two or three visits a year that she and her father made to Hanover Hall.
For the most part, certainly whilst she was growing up, Hector was away at school. And when he had finished with Eton, there was, of course, Oxford, and so there was a great swathe of almost ten or eleven years when the two of them barely met.
However, Charlotte was quite determined that if she found herself in Hector’s company again in the near future, and it was safe to do so, she would question him thoroughly and without any compunction whatsoever.
Very likely it was the fact that Hector had such an easygoing nature that Charlotte thought she knew him better than she did. Still, she was certain he was easygoing enough that he would put up with a little questioning from her when she got the chance of it.
“So, forgetting whether or not it was curious because we can come back to that later, what happened? What was he wearing? Did he look as handsome as he did before? Did he speak to you? Goodness, did you dance with him?”
“Ruth, Ruth!” Charlotte said and began to laugh. “Slow down.”
“I cannot slow down, I am just too excited. Did you speak to him?” Ruth went on determinedly.
“I could hardly avoid it. It was only a small gathering of forty or so, and he seemed to appear everywhere I chose to stand.”
“On purpose,” Ruth said and nodded in a way that would not be argued with.
“Yes, if you like,” Charlotte said indulgently. “And I did manage to speak to him a little.”
“What did you talk about?” Ruth said, getting to the very heart of the matter.
“Well, he enquired after my well-being,” she began and remembered how he had smiled at her from some feet away, making his approach in a most decided fashion.
And Ruth was right; he had looked as handsome as ever. He was wearing a very neatly tailored black tailcoat and breeches with a pale cream waistcoat and a white shirt.
His hair was immaculate, just as she had seen it before, and the perfect simplicity of his dress seemed to make him all the more handsome. It was as if the lack of an elaborate necktie somehow enhanced his very fine features.
“Good evening, Miss Cunningham. How very pleased I am to see you here.”
“And how very surprised I am to see you here,” Charlotte said with a certain dry suspicion that she hoped he had picked up upon.
“You think I am following you?” he said with a slow and pleasantly antagonistic smile.
It was as if he was goading her, and the look in his eye reminded her very much of the first time she had seen him when they had stared at each other with such determination outside Hanover Hall. It was almost a challenge, and Charlotte could not help being interested by it.
“I should not like to accuse you of such a thing, really. What woman would accuse the son of the Duke?”
“Only one I can think of,” he said and laughed, his green eyes staring into hers.
Charlotte had found herself relieved that she had paid the proper attention to her appearance before coming out that evening.
Initially, she had not been destined to put in a great deal of effort, but in the end had decided to wear a fine ivory gown which had a simple green lace overlay. She felt very modern indeed in it, and Ruth had worked wonders with her thick chestnut hair, curling it into broad waves before twisting it up into a full and lustrous pleat on the back of her head.
What was even better was that she could see him noticing her effort, and she felt complimented without him even saying a word.
“Ah, Lord Harrington, please allow me to introduce you to my two friends,” Charlotte had said with the faintest hint of exasperation when Octavia Orpington and Ariadne Beckwith had made their way over to her and genteelly forced her hand.
She had no doubt that they had just heard from Lady Darnley that the handsome young man they were entertaining that evening was no less than the son of the Duke of Sandford.
The two young women were suddenly all guile and smiles and obviously had left their manners somewhere on the small journey across the room in their fervent bid to be introduced to him.
Charlotte knew the young women well enough but had thought them to be capitalizing on their acquaintance with her so that they might have some time in Lord Harrington’s company.
At this point in the tale, Ruth also became exasperated. She tutted loudly at the idea that her mistress had been upended so early on by two young ladies she herself did not particularly like very much.
“Of all the things,” Ruth said in an annoyed tone. “You would think they could have waited to be introduced. After all, if you were having a private conversation with Lord Harrington, did they not think that this sudden appearance would make things awkward?”
“I do not think they cared very much about any of that, Ruth. You are forgetting that these are highly bred young women and, as such, manners are very much an optional thing.” Charlotte laughed, having amused herself greatly with her clever comment.
“You have been raised very well, Miss, and in such a fine home, and yet you would never behave that way; I know you would not,” Ruth said fiercely.
“Thank you, my dear.” Charlotte squeezed her maid’s hand, grateful as ever for her deep and abiding loyalty.
“I suppose they were trying to impress him?” Ruth went on, her countenance full of disappointment.
“Yes, they were perfectly coquettish in every movement and twisted this way and that to extract the offer of a dance each from the poor man.”
“Really!” Ruth hissed.
“My dear Ruth, Lord Harrington may dance with whomever he wishes.”
“Except it sounds very much to me as if he did not wish to dance with either one of them. It very much sounds to me as if his own good manners had him cornered.”
“Yes, I think you are right. You put it very well, Ruth.”
“And did you dance with him? Surely he has not come all this way across the county to have nothing better than a dance with two such forceful young ladies.”
“It was all rather a matter of timing, my dear, and it did not work in our favour, I am afraid. Whenever Lord Harrington was free, I was not. It seemed that fate conspired to keep us very much apart.” She laughed lightly. “And it is true to say that once word had got around of the identity of the handsome young man, he was led around the room on so many little introductions that I did not get to speak to him again.
“Oh, how very annoying,” Ruth said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would have been better if you were at a larger event. When there are more people bustling about, there is less excitement surrounding young men of note. They are better hidden, I think.”
“Yes, you are probably right. Still, it is over now, and I hardly think he will care to repeat the experience.” Charlotte laughed.
“I would have to disagree with you there, Miss,” Ruth said and rose to her feet, clearly getting ready to help her mistress into her night attire. “I do not think you can underestimate a man who has gone to such efforts just to see you.”
“If that is truly why he was there,” Charlotte said and, deep down, she rather thought she hoped that was the case. “But I suppose we will not know for sure unless we see him here again.”
“You will see him here again; I am certain of it,” Ruth said and held out both of her hands to pull her mistress to her feet and get her ready for sleep.