The week passes without incident

The next few days passed quickly, with all the weekend's visitors sent away the estate was quiet and soothing. Charlotte's only regret was Dr. Quay's insistence that she not ride for a full week after her fall. She was able to visit Copper in the stables where she saw to her relief the swelling of his forelock had completely subsided, but it was one of the groomsmen, not her, who took the roan gelding for his daily exercise. So Charlotte spent the days inside with her aunts, a wandering the garden paths as she waited for the weekend. Perhaps in an attempt to make amends for his dismissive treatment of her upon her return, her father had invited the same cadre of guests to make up for the chaos of the previous weekend. Although she would not have chosen some of the guests herself, other than adding Colonel and his earnest Lieutenant adjutant to dinner she kept her opinion of the attendees to herself.

Even her dreams became less vivid and on the last night before the weekend, she slept through the whole night without once waking with the now familiar ache in her loins. Perhaps just as the soreness from the Mr. Fuller's forceful coupling was now little more than a memory, so too her psyche seemed to heal once she had made up her mind.

She watched through the curtains of her bedroom window as her guests arrived in small groups. Scott Wilson and Carl Addings arrived escorting Beatrice and Priscilla as they made the trip from the Salisbury train station in a hired stage; shortly after that Jase Worthington and John Basingford pulled up in Jason's open-top coup, his team of greys still stepping lightly up the cobbled drive leading to Marlton manor even after making the five hour run from London.

William Standish and his cousin Trevor rode over from Standish's house climbing stiffly from their saddles even though the ride was no more than ten miles. The two infantry officers might have walked up the hill from their station in the village at the foot of the hill drove but instead arrived in the colonel's opulent coach and four. It was just as well, Charlotte decided as the ruddy faced Colonel slid awkwardly from the seats. Lieutenant Easton certainly looked fit, but if his rotund senior officer had to climb the half-mile stretch from Marlton village to the manor house, his opulent scarlet uniform would probably be drenched in sweat.

Once all the guests had arrived Charlotte checked her hair on last time and descended the grand staircase to face the social onslaught that she knew was sure to come. It was her prerogative as the Lady of the house to make a grand entrance, and if it meant she had to spend less time alone fending off Mr. Worthington then so much the better. Drinks were already flowing freely and she heard the others great the two officers politely as they were escorted ahead of her into Lord Marlton's library. She heard John Basingford's smooth baritone compliment the officers as she approached the door.

"That 'Black Brand' scoundrel is probably half-way to the Welsh mountains by now." Charlotte smiled grimly as she considered just how close Black Brand was, but she waited in the hall while the officers were treated to a toast to celebrate their success. When the noise settled down, she entered the library and greeted her guests with all the ease afforded by years of practice.

Servants under the watchful gaze of the butler moved in and out of the library lighting gas-lights and clearing away the trays of finger foods that had been set out for the early arriving guests to nibble on. The small group chatted gaily and occasionally wandered in and out of the French doors that led to the terraced gardens on the South side of the manor house. All of her suitors took the time to offer Charlotte their best wishes and compliment her on her rapid recovery from her traumatic experience of last week's hunt. Charlotte found it easy to maintain a polite but slightly removed demeanor to keep these suitors at bay while she rehearsed what she planned to say to the young Lieutenant. Enough to enlist his aid, but certainly not every detail of her encounter with the arrogant, prideful and handsome rogue.

Dinner was a lively affair with Lord Marlton expressing his irritation at the current government's mismanaging of the "Whole Damn French Affair." As none of the men assembled had any reason to care for the King's Navy all agreed that the situation in the Mediterranean was intolerable. Charlotte remembered her father ranting for years about the waste of throwing good money after bad refitting the big ships of the line. She might have argued that the poor performance of the Navy was due as much to the previous government's neglect as to the current leadership's mismanagement. Instead of provoking her father, she limited her comments to less sensitive topics, noting the growing clouds in the Western sky and wondering if it might rain soon.

Just like the weekend before, after dinner the younger members of the party retired to the parlor to play whist. Charlotte noted Lieutenant Easton's discomfort as the wagers for the hands were set. Unless the young officer had some other source of funding she doubted he had the funds needed to play at this level. Particularly if he was an ardent a Calvinist as she had heard. Card playing was frowned upon by the Elders of the Church. The quiet officer hung back as Worthington and the others quickly sat at the card tables and Charlotte took the time to call for a few more lights. Exactly as she intended, by the time she turned back to the table most of the seats were taken.

Even as her guests realized that the numbers were inconvenient for whist, Charlotte gracefully solved the dilemma by asking the young officer if he would be willing to escort her as she walked in the gardens to take in the evening air. The straight-laced young gentleman agreed with a hint of a bow, and after a few polite protests everyone happily acquiesced. Not even Jason Worthington, who often showed a possessive jealousy when it came to Charlotte, objected to her diplomatic solution to the awkward situation. Quickly Priscilla and Jase were partnered against Scott and Beatrice, while Addings and Basingford paired off against Standish and his cousin.

Leading Lieutenant Easton through the doors to the manor gardens, Charlotte walked quietly in the cool evening air enjoying the scent of the blossoms and silent companionship of her escort. The somber officer was quite handsome in his dress uniform, the superfine broadcloth of the dress jacket was dyed with real cochineal and the scarlet and gold trimmed uniform was as brilliant and stylish as anything Jase and his friends were wearing. The white double-breasted waistcoat was buttoned tightly over his flat stomach and the fall front of his bleached breeches, that looked even whiter because they were tucked neatly into his polished black boots. Compared to the polished lieutenant, Mr. Fuller in his plain woolen trousers and stained cravat looked downright shabby.