She inclined her head regally. “Very wise, Tyrone. Would you mind terribly if I ask your cook for a dish of water for poor Rufus? And perhaps some sandwiches for myself? The charity gala meeting went on so dreadfully long, and no one thought about luncheon at all.”
“What charity gala?” Lord Sterling asked, now fully recovered. “Why don’t I know of this?”
“Your wife does, my lamb, and she has assured the committee of your donation.” She waved a hand. “That is all you need to know. Janet will inform you where and when your presence is required. Tyrone, dear…”
“Yes, Miranda, of course.” Tyrone plucked up her hand and kissed it fondly, scratched Rufus’s ear, then stepped from the room to do her bidding.
Michael continued to watch Miranda, wondering what in the world had possessed her to take an interest in him like this, let alone to be so generous. A word from Alice Sterling could not have had this much influence, and it was clear that the Sterling brothers had done nothing to bring this on. Charlotte did not know his plans, even if her mother had shared what he had told her.
So why all this? What prompted the action?
What did she mean by it?
As though she could read his thoughts, Miranda smiled at him in a manner he could only call maternal. “Don’t dwell on it overly much, dear. I never had any children myself. And though I adore my stepsons wildly, they were really almost grown when I married their father. They were away at school most of the time, though we had the most glorious fun when they returned. So now, I like to take an interest in worthy parties when I can, and, despite what people think, it can be just as much fun to prepare fashion for a man as it is for a woman.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he murmured. “Even so… Why me, Miranda?”
Her smile turned from matronly to mischievous in an instant. “Because I have a very good feeling about what may transpire in all this, and I am determined to pay good money to see it.”
Chapter Ten
One can be particularly fortunate or particularly unfortunate in their dinner companions when attending such gatherings. The chances are the same, and it may shape the whole course of the meal.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 26 February 1817
“The Bonds have an interesting interpretation of a small dinner.”
“Shh! Charles, they will hear you.”
Charles looked at Charlotte in wry surprise. “When have you ever cared about what the Bonds think? They are quite good, but hardly the brightest London has to offer.”
Charlotte scowled at her brother as they moved into the large drawing room to await the announcement of dinner. “I cannot afford to be particularly stingy about the company I keep at the present, Charles. The Bonds are of sufficiently high station and have excellent connections. If I wish to find a husband among the upper class, I must attend dinners with people like the Bonds.”
“Fine,” Charles grumbled, no doubt doing his best not to scowl as he gritted his teeth in a show of a smile. “But do not expect me to carry much by way of conversation at the table. I shall be fortunate to use even the smallest portion of my brain.”
“That’s normally all one can expect of you anyway,” Charlotte replied as she slid her hand from his arm, batting her lashes playfully. She turned and nodded indulgently at Mrs. Bond’s aunt, Lady Hetty Redgrave, who had long been a friend to the Spinsters, though presently looked as though she had been asked to swallow billiard balls.
Society dinners had never been Lady Hetty’s favorite pastime, though it was rather less clear what exactly was her favorite pastime. She was more inclined to find disfavor with something rather than to find favor in anything.
“Please don’t make me go over there,” Charles begged beside her. “She’ll make a game out of insulting me.”
“I adore that game,” Charlotte shot back. “And you needn’t stay by my side all night. In fact, I beg you not to. There are plenty of ladies and gentlemen about. Go and socialize.”
Charles glared at her darkly. “The only reason there are plenty of gentlemen is because Mary Bond was jilted, and they are desperate for a quick resolution. They only invited ladies to even out the numbers.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes and walked away, shaking her head. It wasn’t often that her brother accompanied her to events, usually preferring to arrive on his own time and to pretend as though they hardly knew each other, but the rare occasions when they were together reminded her why the occasions were not commonplace. They truly were better apart than together.
The fact that both of them had made it to adulthood was extraordinary.
She continued to smile politely at everyone, walking around as though she were only taking a turn about the room. It was almost aimless, but in truth, she was surveying the gentlemen present. Those that were engaged in conversation, those that were standing alone, and those that, like her, seemed to be examining the guests. The game was an intriguing one, and Charlotte was an expert. She had yet to be outplayed, and she refused to let tonight be a first.
The tall and dashing form of Mr. Riley stood not far from her, and a natural pause in his conversation brought his gaze to her. A shock of sorts raced from the pit of her stomach down the back of both legs, a strange sort of lightning that curled her toes despite never raising them.
Goodness, that was a fun sensation.
Would it have been too much trouble to ask Mr. Riley to look away, then look back at her and see if it happened again? Better yet, what if he smiled?
A composed, possibly habitually stoic man like Mr. Riley would likely need encouragement. But what could she do when they had barely
