Chapter Twenty-One
“Charlotte, darling, hold still,” Lady Chelmsford said, leaning forward in her carriage seat toward Charlotte. She swiped the pad of her thumb against her tongue and moved to dab at Charlotte’s cheek. “Look at those shadows beneath your eyes. Some powder should see it hidden. Audrey, tell me we have packed powder.”
“Leave her alone, Maude,” Lady Epping said, catching her sister’s wrist before she could touch Charlotte’s face.
“She looks positively ghastly,” Lady Chelmsford said. “Like she has not seen a wink of sleep.”
Lady Epping tightened her grip on Lady Chelmsford’s arm. “I doubt there is a bride alive who finds rest before her wedding day,” she said.
Lady Chelmsford relented. She folded her hands in her lap, settling back against the coach bench beside Lord Epping. She sniffed primly, wrinkling her powder- caked nose. “Well, I suppose given the circumstances, it is understandable,” she remarked. “These are certainly the most unconventional nuptials I have ever seen arranged. It has all come about so swiftly, and in such confusing fashion, I dare say I can scarcely recall whom Charlotte is supposed to meet before the archbishop.”
Lord Roding, Charlotte thought to say, but she kept quiet. She was to marry Lord Roding that morning.
There would be no preventing it. Reilly had not returned to Darton Hall. They had delayed their departure for Roding Castle for as long as possible, but there had been no sign of him. While this left Charlotte’s family bewildered, Charlotte knew all too well what it surely meant—Lord Essex had not survived the night. He had succumbed to his blood loss at Theydon Hall, and so had any hope she might have held.
“I can only imagine the rumors that will whirl about the whole occasion,” Lady Chelmsford said, sniffing again. “There has not been such a fuss in Essex in ages. You should steel yourself for it, Audrey. It will not lessen in the aftermath. People are fascinated by this entire confounding circumstance. Tongues will only wag the more when Reilly does not arrive in timely fashion for the ceremony. You mark me at that.”
Lord Epping rolled his eyes and made a harrumphing sound. He looked out of his window, deliberately trying to ignore Lady Chelmsford.
“You should have married him off two years ago, rather than let him traipse off to the navy, Rodney,” Lady Chelmsford told him, waggling an admonishing finger. “ ‘It will instill discipline in him,’ you said. Discipline, ha!” she snorted. “That boy has done naught but run mad since his return from the sea. Up until all hours and unaccounted for all night; missing social engagements without any courteous excuse. Positively shameful. You have granted him far too many liberties, and an excess in freedom, and he is spoiled for it.”
When Lord Epping did not so much as avert his gaze from the window to acknowledge her, her brows pinched and she swung toward Lady Epping. “Audrey, you have always possessed the reasoning your darling husband lacks. You should marry that boy off immediately. Surely, you can appreciate the prudence of it. A proper wedding to a girl of good breeding will tame that willful nature within him. Look what such a prospect has done for Charlotte.”
She flapped her hand demonstratively toward Charlotte; and at this, Lord Epping had enough. He turned to Lady Chelmsford. “Why are you still among us?” he asked. “Do you not have a home and affairs of your own in London that bear your attention?”
Lady Chelmsford’s eyes flew wide. She sputtered breathlessly and blinked at her sister, expecting rescue. “Well, I never… !” she gasped.
“Yes, well, do not punish the rest of us for your shortcomings,” Lord Epping muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and returning his surly gaze to the passing countryside.