“I will see you tomorrow. At one, perhaps?” She gave him a stiff nod and turned to walk back to Edward’s group. From across the room, Alec’s cousin smiled in triumph.
Sixteen
Charlotte inserted her needle into the length of blue velvet and pulled the thread through. They had found the cloth in a forgotten trunk in the attic, and though faded, it would make far better dining room curtains than the current flowery chintz. If she ignored the main floor, which she did as much as possible, she was more and more satisfied with the look of her house.
She glanced up and discovered Callie sitting five feet away, her tail neatly curled around her front paws. The cat had taken to appearing like a ghost wherever Charlotte was and watching her. “Good morning,” Charlotte said, continuing her sewing. This was the last panel. She hoped they could hang the new curtains before Sir Alexander arrived. Let him see how well she was managing her household now.
Callie stared at the needle slipping in and out of the cloth. Her pupils expanded darkly.
“No,” Charlotte told her. She stopped sewing for a moment and searched her workbasket. Finding an almost empty wooden spool, she pulled off the remaining thread and rolled it along the floor. Callie pounced, batting the spool across the carpet. Charlotte returned to her seam and her thoughts.
Sir Alexander had managed to dim the luster of the rout party last night in more ways than one. After he’d gone, Charlotte had noticed Miss Simmons’s mother fetching her, and finally recognized the pattern. Unmarried girls were not left among Edward’s friends for long. Clearly, it was not felt to be proper. She didn’t see the objection; they didn’t talk scandal or flirt outrageously. Well, there was the champagne, perhaps. With Tony continually filling one’s glass, it was all too easy to overindulge. She’d been careful, the memory of last time still vivid. But otherwise, the group seemed harmless, with a refreshing lack of formality. Margaret Billings had invited her to drive in the park, and she was certainly going. Charlotte plied her needle, entertained by Callie’s twitching tail and the swoop and clatter of the spool from one corner of the drawing room to the other.
How could it hurt—a bit of amusement in a life that had been devoid of it for so long? Yet she had been made to feel irresponsible. And she resented it. Aware of silence, Charlotte looked up. Callie crouched like a sphinx, the spool imprisoned between her forepaws, and stared at her. “Sir Alexander never lets you forget your duty,” she said to the cat.
Callie blinked her yellow eyes slowly. Her brindled fur caught the light streaming in the window.
“It’s not as if I am neglecting what needs to be done. Quite the contrary.” The cat’s yawn flashed small fangs.
“Precisely. It’s tedious to think about one’s problems all the time.”
Callie batted the spool, sending it scuttling across the room. Her hindquarters waggled, and then she was up and after it.
Every creature needed to play, Charlotte thought. She smiled as Callie captured the spool and fought it to a standstill. “Edward is very charming.”
The cat looked at her, spool in mouth. It would forever bear little tooth marks. “But the odd thing is…” Charlotte’s hands stilled on the cloth. “There is something about Sir Alexander. When I am with him I feel more alive, somehow. Even if it is simply a more lively irritation.” She smiled. “Last night, the sky, the scent of flowers; it was as if I hadn’t really noticed them properly before. And I wanted to hold his arm forever.”
Callie brought her prize over to Charlotte and dropped it at her feet like a gift. Her gaze was steady and penetrating.
“Capture what I want and keep it?” Charlotte asked her with another smile. “But he spoiled everything. He is always spoiling things.” She resumed her sewing. “And then I was glad to get away from him. I thought it would be a relief. But… it wasn’t.” Charlotte sighed. “Edward, despite his very good looks, is only… entertaining. He doesn’t make me feel anything in particular. Why should that be?”
“Did you call, ma’am?” Tess the housemaid stood in the doorway.
Charlotte flushed, hoping she hadn’t heard very much of that. “No, I was just… talking to the cat.”
Tess looked around.
Callie had disappeared. “She was just here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tess dropped a sketch of a curtsy and went out.
The cat emerged from under the sofa. “Thank you so much,”