Arabella barely offered anything but a short mumble as her sister walked away. She was confused, and she certainly deserved to be. Charlotte had only reveled in this secrecy a little bit. It was entertaining to know something that no one else did, and it was safer, because should her plan not work, it might be humiliating.
William caught her eyes as she started to approach his group. As she did, he took Lavinia and broke away from Lord Stanton, leaving him alone on the dance floor. Charlotte and William glanced knowingly at each other before walking past. With purpose, Charlotte approached Lord Stanton.
“Good evening,” she curtsied.
He looked at her, confusedly before bowing. “Lady Charlotte. A pleasure to see you.” He looked uptight, which was rare for him. He had typically always looked so interesting and adventurous, but this evening, he was as stiff as a board.
“Might you ask me to dance with you?”
“I was not…intending on it, but—”
“Of course, you were not. That is why I chose to ask you.”
Lord Stanton sighed, looking out of the corner of his eyes, presumably at William. “With all due respect, my grace, might that be inappropriate considering the outcome of your courtship with Lord Holdford?”
Charlotte crossed an arm and put a hand to her face. She stared at him for a moment. “He is a grown man. I think he will survive,” she said. “Trust me, this will be very beneficial for you.”
He eyed her dubiously before reaching out for her dance card. She lifted her wrist and he signed it. “Wonderful,” she smiled. “Now let us talk.” She stood beside him as the pair waited for the first dance to begin.
“I will admit that you have captured my interest,” he admitted. Before them, the room milled with romantic energy. It was nearly halfway through the season and all the young women and men were eager to win the hearts of their desired match.
“Dancing with someone you care about is special, is it not?” Charlotte asked.
Lord Stanton looked even more on edge. “Yes?”
“It feels like the air is crackling with energy and your feet are alight. Everything around you just fizzles out because the only thing that matters is that person and that moment,” she said.
“That is generously poetic,” he mumbled.
“Have you not felt that?” she asked. “I am asking in earnest. Have you ever had a dance that made you feel like that?”
Lord Stanton squared his shoulders and stared at her, his eyes questioning her intention before his mouth could. “What is the purpose of this?” he asked. “Are you meaning to rub salt in my wound?”
Charlotte laughed, shaking her head. The music began—soft romantic violin blanketed the room. It was a recipe for romance, and yet even with a handsome man beside her, Charlotte felt as dull as a rock.
Although he was on edge, he had no choice but to guide her out on the floor. Then, he offered her a hand and the two joined in a dance. “Will you answer my question or are you as stubborn as your friend?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. “I wish not to relive my feelings for your sister.”
Charlotte nodded, and he spun her around as per the choreography of the dance, but his hands were clammy and uninspiring compared to her dances with William. She could tell he felt it too. “I am simply saying, that when somethingfeelsright, then it very often is, and I promise you that I admit this even to my own displeasure. I have been made a fool out of a dance floor very similar to this one. Lord Holdford has made me realize that my worldview was shallow and that my heart was naïve. I had not believed in love before, but now that I have felt it, I must admit that it is real.”
He nodded cautiously, staring at her as if the reason she was even speaking with him at all might be hidden in her eyes.
“I believe you are the right match for my sister and despite what you have heard about me, I have been trying to convince her to afford you another chance.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I believe in you both. And if I truly cannot be happy, I at least hope my sister can be,” she said. “I have spoken with her, and I think that, should you be willing to approach her, she would be receptive to a conversation.”
Lord Stanton stared at her in disbelief before she broke away from him and spun around with another fellow for a few bars before spinning back to him. He laughed in disbelief. “Have I misunderstood you? I thought you to be the Lady that every man of thetonfeared. I heard you are very unforgiving and very quick to stray ladies away.”
“Oh, yes, that is me,” she smiled. “However, you look at my sister like she is somewhere above you, like she has this hold on you that even you cannot explain. You look at her like—”
“Alright,” he said hurriedly, because his cheeks were red, and he wasn’t the type of man to blush. “Fine. I still think very highly of your sister, and I regret what I said every day. There was no malice intended. I just felt it, exactly the way you described a dance. I feel that with her.”
Charlotte smiled, pulling away from him. “Very well,” she said, as the couples dance around them. “She is a beautiful girl. Go sign her dance card before someone else does.”
He paused, looking sort of awkward like he was still expecting her to finish the dance with him. “She told me not—”