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Authors: Hilary Gilman

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This essential business having been transacted, Charlotte returned to her mama in triumph and prophesied that the whole plan would work out splendidly.

The financial arrangements having been made, the next and most pressing problem was how they were ever to get to
London
at all. Both ladies understandably shrank from travelling upon the common stage, yet post charges were prohibitive and the money could ill be spared. Charlotte devoted a good deal of thought to this difficulty and one evening as they sat before a cosy fire occupied with their embroidery, she decided to lay before her mama the plan that had resulted from her cogitations.

‘Mama, dearest, I have been thinking,’ she began, rather to the alarm of Mrs Wrexham, who had had experience recently of where her daughter's thinking could lead her.

‘Have you, my love?’

‘Of course I have, and I think I see a way out of our difficulty.’

‘Which difficulty is that,
Charlotte
?’ asked her mama, to whom life appeared suddenly to be rather overcrowded with them.

‘Why, how we are to get to
London
, of course. Now tell me, our cousin is most anxious to take possession of this house, is he not?’

‘I fear so, my love, for he has a large family, you know, and I believe his wife is increasing again. From the tone of his last letter I could tell that he is becoming impatient.’

‘Very well, dearest, let us present this churlish cousin with a proposition. He wishes us to go. We wish for nothing better than to leave. Let him provide the means for our departure!’

‘I do not quite understand what is in your mind, my dear,’ replied Mrs Wrexham, puzzled.

‘We shall write to our cousin and inform him of our plan to go to
London
as soon as may be. We shall tell him that only the necessity of finding the funds for the journey is keeping us here. If he does not instantly offer to frank us I will eat my best bonnet!’

Mrs Wrexham was aghast. ‘Charlotte, how can you contemplate begging from a man we do not even know in that way? It would be the height of vulgarity to mention any such thing to him. In fact I forbid it!’

Charlotte
laughed, quite unabashed. ‘Oh, I shall not be so obvious as that. The merest hint will be all that is required, I am sure. If you wish, you may read the letter that I propose to send and if it offends you in any way I shall forget the whole idea and procure us seats upon the stage.’

In the end the letter was sent with Mrs Wrexham's reluctant assent and the outcome proved even better than Charlotte had anticipated. The coach which was to convey their cousin from London to Derbyshire could, with no difficulty, be put at the disposal of the two ladies for its return journey; thus, as their cousin felicitously expressed it, killing two birds with one stone. The prospect of spending the four or five days of the journey in a gentleman's private carriage rather than the notoriously uncomfortable stagecoach was so gratifying to Mrs Wrexham that she informed her daughter that she would never doubt her wisdom again.

Charlotte, who was engaged in trying on a gown which had that very morning been sent from Madame Blanche, received this tribute rather absently. She was surveying herself critically more in the manner of an actress trying on a costume than a young girl with a new gown.

‘Well, dearest? What do you think?’ she asked, craning round her neck in a fruitless attempt to see the back. ‘Will it do?’

Mrs Wrexham studied her daughter in silence for a moment and then gave a little nod. ‘Charlotte, it is charming. I have never seen you look so well!’

Indeed the delicious confection of apple-green crepe became Miss Wrexham very well. It brought out the golden lights in her hair and made her delicate skin appear even whiter. There was a stylish little ruffle of lace around the high collar providing an attractive frame for her face, and around her pretty ankles there frothed a superfluity of flounces.

Charlotte
smiled at her reflection in the glass. ‘Yes, Mama, I think you are right. How fortunate for our schemes that I make such an excellent clothes horse!’

Mrs Wrexham was startled by the unexpected bitterness in her young daughter's voice, but a moment later Charlotte was laughing and her mother was able to dismiss the incident from her mind.

Indeed she had little time to spare to ponder upon her daughter's state of mind. Their cousin was to arrive in only three weeks’ time and everything must be ready for their departure. Most of their possessions were put into storage within the following sennight and the house seemed horridly bare and echoing without their familiar presence.

By working herself and her unfortunate seamstresses at an unprecedented rate and ignoring the claims of less rewarding clients, Madame Blanche was able to deliver all the gowns, pelisses, bonnets and fripperies the ladies required, in very good time. A constant stream of bandboxes was to be seen arriving, the contents of which were as exquisite as any girl could desire.
Charlotte
was particularly pleased with a ball gown that she hoped to wear when she made her first appearance, for a good deal rested on the effect of this gown. Rightly feeling that tiny puffed sleeves and demure ribbons would not suit her rather queenly style,
Charlotte
had chosen a gown of classical simplicity. It was white as befitted a debutante, but there was sophistication about the gown that argued a taste and refinement unusual in a girl of her age. There was elegance in every flowing line of the delicate silk, which clung around her statuesque form, emphasising the lovely curves and then fell to the floor in a shining cascade. With it she wore a spangled scarf of some cobweb-like material, caught negligently at her elbows, and most daring of all, tiny golden slippers encased her slender feet.
Charlotte
, wise beyond her years, knew the value of originality.

All their finery having been packed away, the two ladies retired to their respective bedchambers in the most optimistic of moods, a pleasant state of mind which lasted only until the following morning. A business-like letter lay upon the breakfast table which, when opened with eager fingers, was found to contain disappointing news. Indeed, Mrs Wrexham looked so distressed upon digesting the contents of this missive that
Charlotte
became seriously alarmed.

‘Mama! What is wrong? Can I help you?’ she cried. Mrs Wrexham merely handed her daughter the letter in silence. ‘Dear Madam,’ she read. ‘In accordance with your instructions I have been able to find a purchaser for the annuity left by the late Mr Wrexham. Unfortunately, due to the financial position in the country as a whole and to the continuing conflict in
Europe
, there is very little market and I regret to inform you that an offer of only eight hundred pounds has been made. If you wish me to ratify this agreement, would you, Madam, contact your obedient servant at your earliest convenience? I remain, etc., etc.’

Charlotte folded the letter thoughtfully, then with a little sigh she said; ‘Well, this is disappointing news, to be sure, dearest. I do not think we should allow it to make any difference to our plans, however. Do you?’

Mrs Wrexham turned a look of weary reproach upon her daughter. ‘It is all very well for you, Charlotte, to behave as though the loss of two hundred pounds or more were a mere nothing. You are young. You could even earn your bread if you had to, Why, you could be a governess or some such thing; but I, what can I do if we fail? How will I live with nothing behind me? Oh, I wish I had never allowed you to persuade me into this ridiculous scheme!’

It was apparent that Mrs Wrexham was quite overset and suffering from an irritation of the nerves as powerful as it was unusual. Charlotte knelt beside her weeping mama and took her hands between her own. She gazed into her mother's face with such a look of love and hopefulness that the mother was comforted and returned the clasp of her daughter's strong young hands.

‘Mama, listen to me,’ begged
Charlotte
earnestly. ‘I promise that nothing shall happen to worry you. I swear to you upon my dear father's memory that if I cannot find a gentleman of wealth in London whom I can like and respect, why, then, I shall marry Mr Wimple after all and you need never worry about money again!’

‘My dear, dear child. Let us hope that you will meet someone to whom I can give my daughter with a happy heart and who will be able to keep you as I would wish to see you established.’

‘Let us hope so indeed,’ echoed
Charlotte
rather forlornly. She was very aware that she had made an extremely rash promise but one which she had every intention of keeping.

In the days that followed, Miss Wrexham was far too busy to dwell upon her probable future with the unappetising Mr Wimple. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and concentrated upon the arrangements for conveying herself and her mama to London in tolerable comfort and safety. In this task she was retarded rather than assisted by their cousin who arrived within a very few days.

Charlotte and Mr Pollock had never met and, although Mrs Wrexham had a vague memory of a pudgy and unattractive urchin of some twenty years earlier, she was quite unable to recognise this figure in the self-important and pompous young man who now descended upon her.

He had arrived late one bitter March afternoon, having travelled up alone from his home in
Surrey
. He entered the pleasant chamber in which the ladies were taking their tea, pushing past the surprised servant and remarking jovially: ‘Well, well, this is pleasant indeed, is it not? Your man was all for announcing me formally but I said 'Nonsense, the ladies will forgive me if I just bustle in. How very cosy and comfortable this is, to be sure!’

‘Mr Pollock, ma’am,’ intoned the servant, not to be denied, his voice expressing his disapproval of guests who entered unannounced.

Mrs Wrexham bowed politely, although by no means pleased by the shabby-genteel notions displayed by their guest. She felt, quite correctly, that this informality marked Mr Pollock's contempt for their lowly circumstances rather than any real disinclination for ceremony.
Charlotte
for her part was so put out that only the fact that she depended upon this man for her transportation to the metropolis prevented her from giving him one of the blistering set-downs with which she was wont to discourage the vulgar. Swallowing her annoyance as best she might, she seconded Mrs Wrexham's civil welcome and looked so lovely in her plain morning gown of dark green merino that Mr Pollock was quite captivated. Only his wife's explicit instructions to expedite the removal of his relations with all haste prevented him from begging the ladies to remain at least until an improvement in the weather made travelling a less hazardous occupation than at the present season.

Fortunately, Charlotte was obliged to endure her cousin's proximity for less than a sennight before the coach was to return to Richmond for Mrs Pollock and her offspring, but she was heartily sick of his company long before then. He ogled her continuously, paying fulsome compliments that could only disgust.
Charlotte
had first appeared in Society at the age of sixteen and so she was quite accustomed to being admired but not the most ardent admirer had ever ventured to do more than kiss her hand. She was therefore more shocked than frightened when, happening to pass her cousin upon the upstairs landing, she found herself quite suddenly enveloped in a suffocating embrace. She struggled, and as she was a tall girl and her cousin, though portly, was not a very athletic man, she was soon able to break free of his embrace. He still retained her hand, however, held sentimentally to his heart while he ranted incoherently of his love for her.

Unmaidenly though it might appear, Charlotte found she was struggling with an overmastering desire to giggle, particularly as her cousin was so unwise as to throw himself upon his knees before her. Sternly she controlled a quivering lip and begged her cousin to release her.

‘Indeed, cousin, you are not yourself. Please do let me go and I promise I will forget that this ever happened!’

‘I can remain silent no longer!’ declared her admirer, stubbornly remaining upon his knees. ‘Your beauty, your grace, have enslaved me. Charlotte, my adored one, be mine!’

‘How, sir, can I be yours when you have a wife and several children already?’ replied Miss Wrexham with some asperity. ‘Now please get up and stop being ridiculous!’

At this Mr Pollock did get to his feet, although with some difficulty. He slipped an arm quickly around Miss Wrexham's waist and drawing her close he whispered in her ear. ‘My sweet cousin, you misunderstand me. I am offering you my protection. A young female, circumstanced as you are, without fortune or friends—you comprehend? How else are you to establish yourself?’

Shaking with anger,
Charlotte
twisted from within his arm and faced him wrathfully. ‘How dare you! How dare you make me such an offer you—toad—you! Let me tell you, cousin, I would far rather beg my bread by the roadside than enter into such an arrangement with you or any man! And now, if you do not wish me to apprise Mrs Pollock of this interview, I suggest you leave my sight this instant!’

Most men would have been quite cowed by such a lovely figure of outraged virtue, but Mr Pollock seemed blessed with a singularly thick skin. He merely leered at his cousin in an appraising way and remarked, ‘I daresay that is what you think now, sweetheart, but do not forget what I say. If you should ever change your mind, well, I won't hold this against you!’

BOOK: Gamble With Hearts
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