worst fears.
He was getting married.
There were no more tears to shed on the subject, but the ache of it would take far longer to fade.
Her mother was sure she would marry, but Charlotte could not see how. Even Jonathan, for all his goodness, looks, and prospects, was not Michael. But someday, when the ache did not seem so gaping, he could fill the space well enough.
Would he wait that long?
Who would she find after him, if he would not?
“Oh, you look better than I expected. That is quite the relief.”
Charlotte looked up as Georgie entered the room, bobbing a polite curtsey of sorts, and moving over to her. “Was I supposed to be at death’s door?”
“Something rather like,” Georgie quipped, sitting just across from Charlotte. “Or wallowing in abject despair, hair streaming loose and rumpled, your nightgown stained with broth you would not take.”
“Goodness,” Charlotte replied. “You’ve put a great deal of imagination into my condition. I feel I must disappoint.”
Georgie smiled in her customary mischievous way. “Reality usually does.”
“Your tea, Miss Wright.” Charlotte smiled as the tea tray was brought in, enjoying the way Georgie’s eyes widened.
When they were alone again, Georgie gave Charlotte a look. “I feel as though I was anticipated.”
“Mama insisted we have your favorite honey biscuits.” Charlotte gestured to them, sighing. “Help yourself.”
Georgie immediately set about making tea, but surprised Charlotte by handing the first cup to her.
Charlotte eyed her warily as she took it. “You have me suspicious, Georgie. Are you here to tell me about the engagement?”
Her friend paused as she made her own tea. “What engagement?”
“Michael’s.” Even saying his name in this context was painful, and her throat protested vigorously. She sipped her tea quickly in an attempt to soothe it.
“Michael?” Georgie repeated, resuming her tea making. “Michael’s not engaged.”
Charlotte exhaled a short breath of irritation. “Kindly don’t pretend to know more of Society’s tidings than I. We both know better.”
Georgie sat back, stirring her tea gently, her lips starting to curve knowingly. “I was with the Greensleys last evening, and Jane said Diana was particularly interested in every Chronicles issue relating to Best Bachelors suddenly.”
That was startling, and Charlotte had no words for the space of three heartbeats. “She did?”
“Everyone heard her.” Georgie shrugged and took a honey biscuit from the tray. “I don’t see a reason to learn about bachelors if she has an understanding, do you?”
Charlotte shook her head, unwilling to consider any of that. “But Michael plans to ask her. He went to Derbyshire on business, and one does not have to think hard to understand the exact business.”
Georgie quirked a brow. “And you don’t like that.”
She shook her head, her heart migrating into her throat. “And I hate that with every ounce of air my lungs breathe in and out,” she admitted in a watery rasp. “It makes me sick. I want to die.” She looked away, the waves of emotion finding hold in her chest, choking her words.
“Well…” Georgie murmured softly, “shouldn’t you tell him so? Ideally before he offers and finds himself bound in honor before he is bound by law.”
Charlotte looked back at her friend after a moment, expression cold. “I don’t see a single reason why that would be worth my consideration.”
Georgie shrugged a shoulder. “We couldn’t let Michael be a jilt, now could we?”
“Why would he be?” she demanded, tired of the discussion, tired of the hurt, and tired of the futility of it all.
“I have no doubt when Michael hears how you feel, he may respond with some encouraging words of his own.” Georgie bit into her biscuit, then gestured with it. “I rather think he’s been saving up encouraging words for some time, just needing your ardor to match.”
No, that was not it at all. Michael had loved her once, if his words were to be believed, but that was all behind them now. He was marrying Diana, whether it happened tomorrow, next week, or in six months. It was happening, the pieces were in motion, she knew it all.
Hoping for anything else was too painful.
“He loves her, Georgie.”
“Mmm, does he?” Georgie mused, eyes narrowing in doubtful speculation. “As I recall, he cancelled an outing with Diana just to come and see how you were. She doesn’t know that, of course, but it would suggest…”
Charlotte was up in a flash, darting out of the room as her lungs burned with a fire of hope, her legs pumping as she raced up the stairs.
“I’ll just eat these biscuits while I wait