“Charlotte!” a voice wailed.
Charlotte shut the door and placed her candle down on a nearby table as hurriedly as she could.
That is not the Duke of Rodstone’s voice.
It was Frederica in a deep black cloak that hid half of her face and hair. The cloak was sodden, though she showed no inclination of taking it off as she wrung her hands together, stepping toward Charlotte from the fire.
“Frederica? What is it?” Charlotte ran toward her. The closer she got to her friend, the more she could see in the candlelight that her friends’ cheeks were not streaked with raindrops, but with tears. “What has happened?” she asked, reaching for her friends’ damp hands and trying to stop her wringing them together.
“Charlotte, it is too awful. Oh, it’s appalling!” Frederica wailed. Charlotte urged her closer to the fire.
“You are soaked. Come, dry yourself by the fire. Take off this cloak. You will catch a chill.”
“I cannot think of that now. Not when so much has happened.”
In spite of her words, Charlotte managed to coax her friend out of the cloak. She threaded it on a hook near the fire, so it began to dry, then urged her friend to sit in a chair by the hearth, so she too would dry.
“Tell me everything.” Charlotte knelt in front of her, her heart hammering in her chest out of fear for what could put her friend in such a state.
“You remember the gentleman I mentioned to you?”
“The one who was so insistent? Oh, I remember.” Charlotte nodded. “The last we spoke, I thought you were going to plead with your parents to forget his suit.”
“Oh, I tried. Believe me, I did.” Frederica raised a hand to her chest, trying to calm the fluttering as she breathed fast. Fresh tears streaked her cheeks, and Charlotte knew she wouldn’t get much sense out of her friend in this state.
“Wait there a moment,” Charlotte pleaded, jumping to her feet. She ran to the door and poked her head out, looking up and down the corridor.
The butler was walking toward the room where Harry and Rose were playing cards together.
“Lady Charlotte? Is there anything you need?”
“A soothing cup of tea, please. As soon as you can. My friend is in much need of it.”
“Of course.”
A few minutes later, tea had been served for the two of them. Charlotte had wrapped Frederica in a blanket and forced her out of the wet boots that she placed on the hearthstone to dry. Frederica was still crying, but more softly now. Charlotte encouraged her not to use the heel of her hand to dry those tears, but a handkerchief instead.
As the butler left the room, Charlotte pressed a cup of the sweet tea into Frederica’s gasp.
“Take this,” Charlotte pleaded, “and be calm. Whatever appalling thing has befallen you tonight, my friend. We can fix it. I promise you that.”
“Oh, Charlotte.” Frederica placed her hand over Charlotte’s on her lap. “I love you for thinking that. You are the sweetest friend to think you can wash away the woes of the world, but it is not the case. This week, such scandal is to befall me. My name will be plastered across the scandal sheets forever more.”
“Do not speak in such a way,” Charlotte begged. “A problem shared is a problem mended. Come, tell me in detail now, and leave nothing out, what has happened to you?”
Charlotte at that moment didn’t care about the mention of scandal. She didn’t care one iota if she would be implicated if Frederica had been seen coming to her door. All she thought about was protecting Frederica from this sadness that had enveloped her.
“My father was insistent on accepting this man’s suit.”
“What is his name?”
“Oh, what does that matter?” Frederica waved her hands in the air. “You will read of it in the scandal sheets in a few days’ time. What does matter is that he was invited to a family dinner. Ipleaded again with my mother, and though she hesitated, more than my father, it was not enough.
“He and I were thrown much together at dinner. He started speaking as if our match was already a decided upon thing. Oh, to my shame, I was improper. I flung myself from the table and the room, storming out like I was a child.”
“Is that hardly surprising?” Charlotte countered. “When he was treating you in such a way?”
She thought of something the Duke of Rodstone had said the night before.
