Chapter Ten
The next evening, Charlotte and her family were slated to attend a formal ball for Lady Margaret and her fiancé at Roding Castle in Dunmow parish. Roding Castle was the Earl of Essex’s home, and James’s besides, and the place where Margaret would proffer her vows in three days time on Sunday.
Caroline’s husband, Randall Prescott, Viscount Harlow had come to fetch her early that morning, en route from London to Roding Castle. Charlotte felt dismayed by her sister’s departure. Caroline had proven to be an unexpected supporter, and Charlotte had appreciated her efforts. She was also extremely anxious at the prospect of treading into James’s home in lieu of her circumstances, and she had tried to draw comfort from Caroline as the sisters had hugged their farewells.
“Do not worry for a thing,” Caroline had whispered, pressing her lips against the corner of Charlotte’s mouth. “Lord and Lady Essex are unoffended by the turn of events. Randall has assured me you will be welcome there. I will be with you, and more importantly than this, Kenley will be with you. You will not notice anything but this, and you will have a lovely time.”
While Charlotte had spent the rest of her afternoon in preparations, aided only by Meghan with Una gone to Loughton for Kenley, Lady Epping had again locked herself stubbornly in her chamber. When the time had arrived in late afternoon for them to depart, Charlotte, Reilly, and Lady Chelmsford stood quietly in the foyer, listening to Lord and Lady Epping argue from the second floor.
“I am not going!” Lady Epping cried out, her voice shrill with indignation.
“You most certainly are,” Lord Epping said, and Charlotte winced at the heavy clamor of his hand slapping against his wife’s chamber door. “We have tendered our replies, and there is no time for courteous regrets! The carriage is waiting. Come now, my lady!”
“I will not know such humiliation!” Lady Epping yelled. “How dare you ask me to lift my head and walk into my noble earl’s home like all is well and unchanged in the world? If you had any sense of social propriety, you would lock the front doors to this house and bolt us all inside until the spring!”
Charlotte hunched her shoulders unhappily. Lady Chelmsford harrumphed. “I hope you are well satisfied, young lady,” she said in a cold, admonishing tone. “To realize the indignities you have heaped upon your poor mother. Why, I should think to—”
“Oh, shut up, Aunt Maude,” Reilly said. Lady Chelmsford blinked at him, her eyes flown wide, her lips pinching in indignation. She let her eyelids flutter, and her balance wobble, as though nearly swooning in outrage. “And do not keel over, either,” Reilly said. “I will not catch you, and Father is in such a mood as to simply leave you prone on the floor until you gather your wits and raise yourself.”