With a smile

Taking a deep breath to prepare, Charlotte smiled brightly at her father.

"What wonderful news." If her voice lacked the genuine excitement of a woman in love, Lord Marlton didn't seem to notice; his sigh of relief was evidence enough that he had not been sure if his headstrong daughter would accept the long anticipated proposal. Charlotte then turned her attention to her father's sisters. "You do think he's a good man, don't you?"

Her aunts spent the next few minutes listing Jason's finer qualities as a match. Not once, in the long list of attributes that made Mr. Worthington such a fine match for Charlotte, did they directly answer her question. She was reminded again that Jason was a MP, and that his wealth came from his family, not some upstart business that could fail as suddenly as it rose sending the family into ruin. Aunt Jane was clearly taken by Jason's fine clothing and finely manicured fingers, while Aunt Elisabeth noted several times how gracefully he moved both on the dance floor and through London's social circles.

There was no mention of Mr. Worthington's qualities as a loving husband or doting father. Indeed somehow neither her father nor her aunts seemed concerned by Jason's drinking, obsessive gambling, philandering or his repeated involvement in affairs of honor involving disgruntled husbands and aggrieved fathers. Most concerning of all, were the nasty rumours that Charlotte had caught wind of involving serving girls who left the young lord's quarters bruised and in tears, but of course that would not be appropriate conversation at any time.

Charlotte ignored her aunt's chatter as she realized just how little about Mr. Worthington appealed to her. Other than his undisputed proficiency as a horseman, there was nothing about Jason that would make him someone Charlotte could learn to love. He was, Charlotte realized with sudden clarity, a bully and a braggart, and nothing about him indicated that he would improve as a man once he had Charlotte bound to him in wedlock. But what could she do to stop this disaster?

Already her aunts were discussing when the wedding could take place and which London hall could be secured for the event, Charlotte did her best to ignore the exited clamoring of her aunts as they proposed one grandiose venue after another. To her surprise, Charlotte found an ally in her father who seemed much more in favour of a smaller wedding out here in the country than the London affair her aunts were discussing.

After an interminable time at the table, Charlotte finally rose from her chaise and curtsied politely to her elders.

"Please excuse me," She carefully kept the tone of a demure gentlewoman instead of the scream of frustration that had been building in her lungs for the past fifteen minutes, "I have a lot to think about."

"Of course, of course, my dear." Her father waved her away and Charlotte escaped to the stables before her aunts could turn their attention to colour schemes, flowers and God-forbid the guest lists. She regretted allowing Sarah to bully her into the white dress with its uncomfortable corset, but under no circumstance was she willing to reenter that stifling mansion and fall into the clutches of her spinster aunts once again. Thankfully the groomsmen were happy to pause in their chores to saddle Copper for her and once on her gelding's back she no longer felt quite as trapped. More than anything else she wished she could just give Copper his head and ride off wherever her horse took her.

Mr. Fuller by now would be hanging in the stocks of South Marlton and she refused to allow herself to ride in that direction. With a sigh she rode slowly down the hill towards Marlton Crossing at the foot of her family's estate once there she could cross the bridge and climb up to Saint Teresa's, or turn to follow the trial to the great forest.