If Michael was so in love with her, why was he not attempting to court her? Why was he determined to have Diana in his life? Why hadn’t he said something before now?
He had, her mind suggested.
Images of a spring morning appeared, younger versions of herself and Michael in one of the sitting rooms in Brancombe. Michael sat beside Charlotte on the sofa and took her hands. “Charlotte, will you marry me?”
She recollected the panic that had seized her chest as she’d searched his fair eyes, seen the earnestness in his face, and hated that she felt nothing but anxiety in the moment.
“Oh, Michael,” she’d said, rubbing her thumbs over his hands. “I couldn’t think of you as a husband. And you couldn’t marry me, not if you wished to continue thinking well of me. You’d hate being wed to me. Say no more about it and take it back.”
And take it back he had.
But what had his expression been when he’d done so? All she remembered was her relief and delight, but he…
Well, what did it matter now?
Charlotte cleared her throat and spoke directly to Grace now, as everyone else was pretending to be occupied. “Michael knows nothing about it, and cares nothing for it. And I would very much like to keep it that way.”
Grace only blinked before taking a sip of her tea, and the others had nothing further to say on the subject.
Small mercies.
“But why six arrangements of flowers, Charlotte?” Elinor asked as she looked around the room at the flowers. “Mr. Riley doesn’t strike me as a man of excesses, but this really is too much.”
“Is it?” Charlotte replied, trying and failing for a comfortable, nonchalant air. “I rather like it myself.”
Chapter Seventeen
Surprises are not entirely logical, nor entirely desirable.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 1 August 1818
“I had no idea the park was so vast!”
“Did you not?” Michael laughed, looking down at the lovely woman beside him. “I thought you told me you and your cousin walked through it every day.”
Diana peered up at him with a bemused expression. “Through the park. Through. Not in. We’ve never walked the whole of it, or simply done so for pleasure.”
“Ah,” he mused, returning his attention to their path and the beauty of the morning around them. “Well, in the interest of fairness, we are not walking the whole of it this morning, either. We are simply walking.”
“But walking with you is far more enjoyable than walking with my cousin,” Diana insisted with a sweet frankness.
“I heard that,” Mrs. Greensley called from behind them.
Michael and Diana both chuckled at that, then Diana turned to call back, “You must allow me to prefer his company to yours, Jane. They are hardly comparable.”
“But I think my pace is better,” Mrs. Greensley suggested with a light laugh.
“Haste is frowned upon in a courtship,” Michael informed them both, bringing more laughter from both. “I’ve taken the guidance quite literally.”
Diana put her free hand atop his arm, though she already had the other looped through it. “I find this pace rather perfect. And what a lovely day to be walking here! I’ve only seen the Serpentine from a distance, so I had no idea it was the size it is!”
“It’s hardly as impressive as some of the bodies of water in the countryside,” he assured her, “but for London, it is a lovely sight.”
“What is your country estate like?” Diana asked, her voice taking on a note of longing.
Michael smiled at the question. “Do you prefer the country to London, Miss Palmer?”
Her cheeks colored as she smiled. “I find I do, though London certainly has diversions enough. The sedate pace of the country, the simpler manners, and the generosity of time and energies by people of all stations are too fine a temptation to completely resist.”
The simplicity of the statement struck a chord within him, and he found a poignant truth in it.
“Yes,” he murmured, nodding to himself. “I never feel so accomplished or satisfied with my day as when I have exerted efforts on my estate. London is for entertainment, but the country is for contentment.”
“Is your family on the estate? Or are they somewhere else?” Diana pressed.
He smiled fondly. “No, they are all there. My father passed a few years ago, but my mother, my sisters, and my brother, when he is not at school, are all at Crestor Grove.”
Diana hummed in thought. “Are your sisters out? Surely one of them must be.”
“Eliza has been to London for two Seasons,” he told her. “I offered to bring her with me this year, but she declined. I think she may come next Season, though.”
“Unless she is sweet on a young man at home,” Diana pointed out in a light, teasing tone.
Michael scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh, I doubt that very much.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Would she tell you if she were? Are there no young men she could grow fond of?”
He paused in the act of rebuttal, thinking quickly.
No, actually. No, she wouldn’t tell him, and there did happen to be young men around Crestor Grove that certainly could have attracted her attention.
He wasn’t prepared to think about that.
“Oxfordshire is a beautiful county,” he said quickly, desperate to change the subject and not caring how obvious it would be.
Diana laughed merrily beside him, and he had to smile at the comfort in the sound. “Is it? I know nothing of it.”
“Yes,” Michael confirmed, lifting his chin proudly. “In fact…”
He broke off as a phaeton approached ahead of them, and he gently guided Diana aside to allow them to pass, Mrs. Greensley following close behind.
He reached for the brim of his hat, preparing to greet the passersby with all politeness, but froze in the process.
The startled, dark eyes of Charlotte Wright clashed with his.
The phaeton pulled to a stop, and it was all Michael could do to refrain from howling for it to continue to move on.
“This is a pleasant surprise!” Mr.
