“Shortening names can be very sweet,” Izzy reminded them when the laughter faded. “Molly Hastings, Edith’s lovely new ward, calls her uncle, Lord Radcliffe, ‘Gray’ rather than his given name of Graham, which I find charming.”
Charlotte nodded, then cocked her head. “Is it odd, though, that he is not Uncle Radcliffe? Or Uncle Graham, at least. I wouldn’t dream of addressing any of my aunts or uncle without their formal family connection. It’s so peculiar.”
“But your Uncle Herbert did not bring you up from the time you could barely speak a full sentence,” Grace reminded her, smiling fondly. “Radcliffe is raising that sweet girl, and no doubt, he will be the only father she remembers. She could hardly call him ‘Papa’, so why not a fond name of equal affection?”
“I’m not judging them, Grace,” Charlotte insisted with a wave of her hands. “Heavens, you forget that I called my grandfather Pumpernickel before he died, much to the chagrin of my parents. And Uncle Herbert, come to think.”
Grace simpered, clasping her hands before her heart. “Did you? That’s precious.”
Charlotte only snorted before returning her attention to Elinor. “I do mean the invitation, Elinor. And everything it says that we aren’t saying in so many words.”
Elinor smiled in response, her cheeks coloring as a testament that she was more pleased than she would admit.
And just like that, the friendships were as pristine as ever.
Fortunate, as Charlotte had a very great need for them just now.
She cleared her throat again, sitting up and barely avoiding the temptation to bite her lip. “Elinor, do you still have your records of the eligible bachelors in Society?”
Elinor lowered her teacup, swallowing as her brow furrowed. “Of course I do. Your column on London’s best bachelors was our most popular issue, so I’ve continued on for when you start to run it annually. Perhaps at the start of the Season, say?”
“What a brilliant thought!” Izzy exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. “It would be such a lovely tradition of sorts, don’t you think, Charlotte?”
Charlotte smiled with a thrill of satisfaction, not for the idea of an annual review of preferable bachelors, though the idea had more than enough merit to dwell upon later, but for the availability of the resources.
Most capital.
“I will need the collection of them as soon as possible,” Charlotte said without directly answering Izzy.
“Whatever for?” asked Elinor with a laugh. “The Season is practically over now, and it would undoubtedly do nothing for anyone.”
Charlotte lifted a brow, her smile curving further still. “It would do a great deal for me, seeing as I’m obtaining a husband.”
The room stilled with the power of a thunderclap and the somberness of a funeral. Every eye was fixed upon her, and every eye was round in shock.
It was perfectly comical, and Charlotte could have burst for laughing.
“I beg your pardon,” Georgie eventually said with a wry, almost stiff giggle. “I thought you said you were obtaining a husband.”
“I thought she said that, as well,” Grace replied without any hint of laughter, her lips barely moving. “Extraordinary sensation.”
Elinor gaped freely at Charlotte. “That’s because she did say it. Charlotte Wright, are you ill?”
“Not at all.” Charlotte folded her hands calmly in her lap. “Why shouldn’t I? The rest of you have husbands, and it is no longer fashionable to be a spinster and write for the Spinster Chronicles. One does not wish to stand out so conspicuously.”
“That’s not a good enough reason to marry,” Georgie snapped, any hint of amusement gone. “Who in the world have you decided to wed?”
This wasn’t going according to plan at all, not that she’d specifically ironed anything out into specifics. That was what she had hoped they would do here, but clearly, she’d have to explain herself first. Provided she could explain herself without baring her soul. They might persuade her out of it if she did that.
“No one in particular,” she replied with a shrug. “Hence my need for Elinor’s information. I need to know who my options are, and which man would be best to pursue.”
Her friends looked around at each other in disbelief, then looked at her again.
“I already hate this plan,” Grace muttered. She sat back roughly on the sofa, her posture slouched and entirely inappropriate for a lady of her station. “The phrase ‘obtaining a husband’ is not intended to be an orderly process of selection as though we are fetching something from the grocer.”
“Why not?” Charlotte shot back. “I’m an agreeable person, and my charms are not inconsiderable. I’m willing to fall in love now, so why should it not be a straightforward process?”
Georgie put a hand over her face and exhaled with a groan, which seemed entirely unnecessary. “It’s as though you learned nothing from what the rest of us went through. Charlotte, you cannot plan such things!”
“I disagree.” Charlotte shook her head emphatically. “I am determined to marry, and to marry for love, and when I want something, I get it.”
None of them had a rebuttal for her there, likely because they knew it was true. Charlotte was many things, but she had never in her life lacked determination, will, or commitment. Fate itself would make way for Charlotte Wright when she was on her mettle.
With an almost smug lift of her shoulders, Charlotte grinned around at her friends. “So, how should I do it? Pick a date for my wedding and will it into existence?”
Izzy’s mouth popped open in shock. “Why in the world would you do that?”
“Why would you think that would work?” Elinor sputtered in derision.
Georgie’s hand dropped from her face as she gave Charlotte a hard look. “Nobody has ever said ‘Oh, I think I’ll get married on October the
