Charlotte held the gown up to her shoulders and waist, then looked down. It appeared to be the perfect length and build.
“I do not understand,” she whispered. “Who would send this?”
Then an image appeared in her mind. It was the day at Covent Garden when she had looked away from the modiste’s window to see the Duke of Rodstone standing behind her, his hair wild beneath the hat he wore as he watched her with that easy smile on his lip.
“I asked. The butler said the messenger came from the Duke of Rodstone’s estate,” Harry explained, and stood from his seat, moving toward the box. He searched through the discarded tissue paper. “So, are you courting and just keeping it a secret from our mother?”
“What? No!” Charlotte said hurriedly. “He is not interested in a courtship. In fact, he has no intention to ever marry at all.”
Rose looked as if she had been kicked in the stomach. Her hands dropped to her gut, and she stared openmouthed at Charlotte.
“Close your mouth, dear,” Charlotte said. “A lady should not gape like a goldfish.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Rose waved a hand at her, dismissing the rebuke hurriedly. “The duke gives you a gift such as this, yet he means nothing by it. Why?”
“Perhaps this is why.” Harry straightened up, holding in his grasp a small note card. Charlotte reached forward and snatched it from his hands, nearly dropping the gown in her haste, and hurrying to catch it with her other hand.
Harry laughed and retreated back to the armchair, looking older and more and more like their father, as he crossed his long legs in the chair.
Her eyes darted across the notecard, reading it as fast as she could, though the note was small and could be read quickly enough.
‘For you, lass. Consider it my way of thanking you.”
She held the card to her chest as she gripped tightly to the gown.
“Tell me, dear sister,” Harry said with mischief as he looked up at her. “For what is the duke thanking you?”
“I… I have been giving him some tips on how men in thetonact. He has little sense of propriety because of his background.” She broke off, watching as Harry and Rose exchanged an uneasy look. “What?” she asked impatiently.
“Nothing,” Rose answered swiftly as Harry shook his head. “It’s just amusing to think that you tell others how to run their lives as well as us.”
“That is not what I do…” Charlotte’ insistent tone faltered as she looked around. There were footsteps nearing the room. “Quick, help me hide it!”
Harry leapt up from the chair and gathered the tissue and empty box together as Rose ran to the door and hurried out.
“Ah, there you are, Mother!” she declared. “Come, let us take a walk in the garden.”
“Dearest, it’s raining,” Margaret’s voice could be heard from the corridor.
“Then we shall make it a speedy walk.”
Charlotte sighed with relief as she tucked the gown away back in the box.
It was truly beautiful, and the Duke of Rodstone’s generosity had shocked her to her core. To think he would give her such a gift, to take so much notice of her in the first place to see she wanted the gown, and then to gift it to her, was a kindness beyond belief.
The intimidating man she had met at that first assembly seemed a distance away now. She felt keenly that she’d misunderstood him, judged him by his appearance and that cool, icy stare. Yet there was more to him. There was a heart beneath the iciness.
I owe him a great debt indeed.
Gerard looked down at the invitation in his hands as he stood outside the Royal Theatre.
People milled around him, all dressed finely in shirts and elegant shimmering pelisses that glittered in the moonlight. He felt ill at ease in his deep black frock coat as he looked between them at all.
I daenae belong here.
He tried to straighten his suit, looking down at the invitation as he stood on the steps of the theatre.
We would be deeply honored if you would accompany us tonight to the theatre.
