“Sure. But you gave me one the first time I married.” Evan laughed. He realized that he had spoken several times of his first marriage without the pain he was used to feeling, and he had not been in his cups. Was it possible to put that pain and sorrow behind?
“Yes. So we did give you a party. Are you saying you have gotten too old to celebrate?” Banbury goaded.
“Of course not. I miss the fun we had with Matthew—the three of us and Lucas. The four musketeers, we called ourselves. It would be nice to feel that unencumbered again.” He sighed. “Matthew was much more grounded than the rest of us. I hope we can find him, as much for my future wife as for myself—for us. I had not realized how much I missed the camaraderie of our small group,” Evan mused.
“It is almost dinner time. I think I should go home and get things ready.” Banbury stood to take his leave.
“No, stay, please. Consider it my stag night.” He grinned. “I am sure that Cook has made plenty.”
“You have a dinner guest, then.”
The two men snickered and headed in the direction of the kitchen.
Chapter Eight
As soon as Jane left her room, Charlotte slid from her bed. Shortly before dinner, Charlotte had received a short missive from Evan explaining the arrangements and giving an introduction to his friend, the Earl of Banbury, who would be helping them. Putting her blue velvet robe on over her shift, she grabbed the traveling bag from the bottom of her wardrobe and carefully packed the lavender dress among the rest of her items. Then she set the bag aside and began to dress herself.
As quickly as possible, she slid on her corset and pulled the strings tight, determined to maintain some semblance of respectability. She wished she could have left her corset overnight on for ease, but there was no way to do that with Jane assisting her. Quickly, she chose gray sateen with delicate silver-lace edging that secured with silver ribbons. She carefully dressed in her hose, shoes, and undergarment assembly, then set the ribbons so she could pull them taut by herself. When she had finished struggling into the dress, she felt ready.
Charlotte started to leave but turned back. Her gift! Quietly, she opened her bedside drawer, reaching into the back and grabbing her note and the small green jewelry box. Opening it, she carefully placed the emerald ring on the familiar gold necklace she wore around her neck, pleased to have it slide next to the small locket containing miniature pictures of her parents and two brothers.
Satisfied she had everything necessary, Charlotte opened her door and looked up and down the dark hall for any signs that someone would still be awake. Seeing none, she held her bag tight and tiptoed downstairs. The bag was small enough that she was able to hide it in Mama’s parlor behind a large potted plant that stood in the corner behind a wingback chair. It would be a good spot to wait. She could keep an ear open for the carriage and quickly grab her bag from its hiding place. Making sure the door was closed tightly, she sat in the chair and closed her eyes to wait for her mother where they had agreed.
Mama had decided to bring Jason with them, not comfortable leaving him in case her uncle came earlier and discovered their duplicity. Hopefully the man would not discover where they had gone. Both of them had kept quiet on their plans, sharing them with no one except each other.
She checked the time on the hallway clock. There were only three more hours before they were to leave. Nibbling her lower lip, she wondered how she would manage this day on so little sleep.
Charlotte closed her eyes, and within minutes dozed into a light sleep. In her dreams she and the Earl of Clarendon stood at the door to a large room, holding hands and smiling at each other while they welcomed guests to a Christmastide feast. Long tapered beeswax candles in two large golden chandeliers illuminated a room decked out with seasonal greenery. Beautiful china and stemware decorated long tables draped in white tablecloths. Food of every sort was being brought into the room and placed on serving tables against a far wall with wonderful aromas wafting her way. “Mmm.”
“Charlotte. Wake up.” Her mother shook her shoulders. “’Tis time to leave. There is a man approaching the door. I believe our carriage is here.”
Charlotte blinked and looked into the blue-green eyes of her mother, who was smiling at her, and the half-awake ones of her little brother. “Mama. Jason. Sorry, I must have dozed.”
“You were having a delicious dream, daughter,” her mother whispered playfully. “You were licking your lips. You must share your dream when we are away.”
“Oh! I cannot recall the dream. I do feel hungry,” she divulged slowly. She did remember seeing the food in her dream, a point brought home to her by the grumbling in her stomach. She had been so nervous the evening before that she barely allowed herself to eat, afraid she might become ill. That decision was coming back to haunt her with pangs of hunger. “I am sorry. I think I might be hungry,” she said sheepishly. “Let us hurry if they are here.”
Charlotte grabbed their pelisses and Jason’s coat and hat from the cloak stand, feeling in the pockets for her kid gloves. Mama said that was the best place to keep a spare pair, just in case. If this was anything, it was just in case.
Jason said nothing as his mother and sister ushered them from the house, each carrying a small bag.
A tall blond-haired man met them at the bottom of the steps to her home. “I am the Earl of Banbury,” he whispered his introduction to Charlotte, her mother, and her brother. “Let us be off. Clarendon waits for
