Margaret sat down beside her sister on the bench and spoke quietly so that her mother-in-law would not overhear. "What is wrong, Lottie?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing," Charlotte said, attempting to smile. "I am just blue-deviled. I need a change of scene, Meg."
"Is it Charles?"
"Charles?"
"Has he not come up to scratch, Lottie? He seems to favor your company so much that I must admit I had expected some declaration before now."
"Charles?" Charlotte repeated, looking up, startled. "Oh, Meg, you are quite out there. Charles just likes my company because-well, just because. He is just a friend, Meg. We do not like each other in that way."
Margaret felt even more guilty. Here was the little sister that she had always thought she knew inside out. "Are you bamming me?" she asked. "But, Lottie, there is someone, is there not?"
Charlotte resumed her absentminded effort to pick out a tune on the keyboard.
"Is it Mr. Northcott, Lottie?"
"Perhaps you could bring me some music, Meg."
"Lottie, is it?"
"I don't wish ever to talk about him. He is conceited and he is not a gentleman."
"Mr. Northcott?"
Charlotte did not reply.
"What has he done, Lottie?" Margaret persisted. "Has he been bothering you? Has he been trying to make love to you?"
Charlotte put her hands in her lap and looked down at them. "He called me a flirt."
"What? But why?"
"Because he is a horrid man and unmannerly and I hate him," Charlotte said, leaping restlessly to her feet and crossing the room to the fireplace. "These are such lovely colors you are stitching into your picture, Lady Brampton," she said with false heartiness to the dowager.
Margaret was left sitting on the piano bench. She was surprised and puzzled by the strange turn of events. She had thought that the early attraction between her sister and Devin Northcott had died a natural death a long while before. And she had been sure that there was a strong bond been Charlotte and Charles, though she had been a little puzzled by his slowness in coming to the point. She could not at the moment imagine what the very correct and very gentlemanly Mr. Northcott could possibly have done to deserve the outburst that Lottie had just indulged in. But one thing was startlingly clear: her sister was very much in love with her husband's friend!
The Earl of Brampton left for London late the following morning. He planned to be away for three or four days. He spent the whole of his journey wishing that he had asked his wife to go with him, while realizing that he could not have done so without having caused a great upheaval. Charlotte would have had to come, too. Margaret was also wishing he had asked her to accompany him, though she too realized that she could not have gone.
Charlotte had agreed the night before to stay at Brampton Court until the earl returned. She did sit down in the morning, though, and write to her parents to tell them to expect her at home about one week later. She was mortally depressed. She had been so close to capturing her man on the night of the fair. She had experienced her first kiss on that night and she had loved it-and him! And then had come that stupid quarrel. She still blamed Devin. How dare he accuse her of being a flirt! How could he be so conceited and so stuffy-and so wrong!
Yet Charlotte knew that in reacting as she had, she had lost all chance of winning Devin. Was her pride worth so high a cost? He had been to the house only once since that night. He had come to dinner on the night before all the guests left. He had talked amiably to everyone, even that odious flirt, Susanne Kemp. But he had ignored her, if one discounted an infinitesimal and stiff bow in her direction when she had first entered the drawing room before dinner. She had made no effort to talk to him, either, but she had had a perfectly good reason. After all, he had insulted her.
The annoying thing was that she still loved him. Her first instinct had been to leave Hampshire as soon as she possibly could, to run home as far from Devin Northcott as she could get. But she had to confess to herself as she agreed to stay with Meg until his lordship came home, that she hoped something might happen in that time to patch up the quarrel.
Charles was restless. It was several weeks since he had last heard from his Juana. In that last letter, she had been confident that soon she would be on her way to England. She had written that she would inform him as soon as she arrived in Portsmouth. He had not had time to inform her that he was removing to the country, but he had left careful instructions at his mother's home in London. As soon as a letter arrived there, a messenger was to post to Brampton Court with it. He was afraid that if he did not hear from Juana soon, he would have to make arrangements to rejoin his regiment in Spain. Then they would be in a tangle, with her traveling to England while he returned to Spain.
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?"