The Captivating Lady Charlotte (Regency Brides: A Legacy of Grace #2)(4)
The strains of violin grew louder, and her father drew near, parting her suitors as if Moses himself walked through the Red Sea.
“My dear.” He offered a hand, which she accepted, then drew her to the center of the room. What felt like a million eyes watched as he drew her to the top of the set for the first dance of her come-out ball.
“It would seem you are quite the success,” Father said, when they finally had a moment to speak.
“Mama has not been backward in her issuing of invitations.”
“Nor should she. Not when it is my daughter who is making her come out.”
Her smile stiffened, as the long ago questions panged again. Why was it so hard for Father to show his affection? How simple would it be to say something of how pretty she looked, or how proud he was of her, especially tonight of all nights? But … no. In keeping with usual, her mother’s call to admire her was met with his half glance and a dismissive “very nice,” an indifference that echoed in the hollow spaces of her heart. She blinked, looked down. Perhaps Henry was right, and she wanted too much, yearning for affection from such a busy man. But ever since Lavinia’s wedding, when she had seen the love with which Mr. Ellison treated her cousin, she had realized not every father was as distant as hers. She lifted her gaze as resolve firmed within. Another point to add to her list for eligible candidates. The man she married would need to be willing to show his affection and emotions as freely as she showed her own.
The opening dance gave way to a country dance, which was followed by the cotillion. Lord Carmichael, the heir to the Earl of Bevington, had her laughing almost as much as her feet danced, with his smooth patter of compliments and commentary on the other guests.
“Don’t look now, but I see a dragon.”
“A dragon, my lord?”
The muddy green eyes smiled. “While this one does not have a long tail, she’s still well able to scorch with her tongue.”
“And why should she scorch you, sir?”
“Oh, no. It isn’t me she wishes at the bottom of the sea. It is every young lady I dance with tonight. She labors under the misapprehension that I will offer for her daughter, but that will never do.”
“No?”
“Can you imagine such a dragon as a mother-in-law? I have no wish to.” He smiled. “I much prefer dancing with the loveliest creature here tonight, even if her father warns me away.”
“Has he?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure as soon as we finish he is about to. Heaven forbid you are seen to enjoy my company, my lady.”
The whirl of flattery and praise kept her spirits high, until it was time for the supper dance. Lord Wilmington, a baron from Bedfordshire, whose flattering admiration of her looks soon gave way to dull detailings of his vast holdings and wealth, escorted her into the dining room, where she encountered a vast array of treats. Monsieur Robard had certainly outdone himself tonight.
Without waiting to learn her preference, Lord Wilmington hurried to load up two plates, then offered her one, before inveigling Mama’s permission for him to join them at the table.
Henry caught Charlotte’s unspoken plea, rolled his eyes, and drew the baron into conversation about Ascot and whether Pranks stood a chance this year, a circumstance that allowed Charlotte to quietly shift places and move closer to the far more handsome young men at that end of the table. After a satisfying amount of admiration and laughter, there was another exchange of seats, and Lavinia and Lord Hawkesbury joined them.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Charlotte?” her cousin asked.
“How can I not?” She waved a hand at the room. “Everything is perfect.”
The dining room, like the ballroom, was filled with laughter and roses. Her favorite flower adorned every available surface; tastefully so, her mother insisted.
“It appears a veritable garden,” Lavinia said. “You’re very blessed.”
“Much more appealing than the Egyptian-themed ball we went to last week,” the earl said, with a glance at his wife. “Remember the scimitars?” He grinned. “Not precisely Egyptian to my way of thinking.”
Her cousin laughed. “Nor was it appropriate for a young lady marking her come out.”
The tender look she shared with her husband prickled envy in Charlotte. Oh, to be so adored …
Lavinia dragged her gaze back to Charlotte. “Nicholas and I were saying earlier we’d love for you to stay with us sometime soon.”
“That would be wonderful! I’ve never been to Gloucestershire.”
There was another exchange of glances. Then the earl shifted forward. “We were rather thinking Hawkesbury House in Lincolnshire.”
“Oh! Well, that would be lovely, too. As long as Mama agrees,” she added doubtfully.
Lavinia patted her hand. “I’ll talk with Aunt Constance soon.”
“Thank you.”
A dark-haired young lady captured Lavinia’s attention, and Charlotte turned her attention to her food, the ice confection garnered by Lord Wilmington now melted, puddling on her plate. She scooped a mouthful in. Nearly moaned. Still tasted as it ought.
She savored the moment, a bubble of quiet in the midst of so much noise. Lavinia’s words had elicited more than just excitement at the promised visit. She was blessed, immeasurably so, with family, friends, her father’s finances such as to be able to afford almost anything her heart desired. And now, with so many opportunities available to her …