Page 33 of The Deceptive Earl

“I do, Charity. It is not an easy decision, when you do not have all the facts.”

“But it all worked out right in the end, for you, Julia.”

Julia looked over her cup at Charity. “It worked out better than alright,” she said with a smile.

“What I mean is you were forced to consider much the same.” Charity took a sip of tea, although it had gone cold.

“Of course. You know I would never be one to advise you to marry a rake no matter how handsome or titled he may be. If he is false…that sort rarely changes simply because he is wed,” Julia cautioned. “Such men do not stop prowling. In fact, they may be more despicable to their wives than they ever would be to a woman they were trying to court. After all a wife has little recourse.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Charity said, setting the cup back in its saucer. “The fact that a man could be such a cad and get away with it makes me boil. A woman could never act so.”

Obviously,” Julia said as she poured herself a bit more tea. She looked a question at her friend, but Charity declined the offer of more tea with a shake of her head.

“I cannot offer assistance on the matter,” Julia said. “As I do not know the gentleman well and neither does Lord Fawkland. Your other friends know him better, Lady Beresford and Lady Amelia. Have you spoken with them?”

Charity thought of Reginald and James. They trusted Wentwell, but dare she trust a man’s opinion on such a sensitive topic? She asked Julia. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“Well then, my friend. I must give back the advice you once gave me. If Lord Wentwell is a rake, in truth, then you must simply choose another.”

“You are right, of course.” Charity agreed after a few moments pause.

The two women sipped tea in silence for a spell as Charity tried to get the sight of Lord Wentwell out of her thoughts.

“What other prospects have you?” Julia asked finally.

“I told my mother I have been considering the Poppys,” she told Julia.

“So you do like James?”

“I like the family. I have no sibling as you do, Julia, no one to rely on or care for. If I were to marry one of the Poppy brothers then their sisters would be my own.”

“Which one?” Julia questioned. “James or Michael?”

Charity sighed. She had been considering Michael Poppy, but she kept trying to find another option. Such hesitation was not really conducive to a happy marriage was it, she wondered.

“I know James better than Michael, but James is near promised to Flora Muirwood, and Michael has shown interest in courting me, so I guess, Michael.” Charity shrugged. “I do not know that it makes a lot of difference. Either way, the Poppys would be my family.”

Julia sat her cup distinctively into the saucer, at once every inch a baroness. “It makes a great deal of difference which brother,” she said sharply, and Charity remembered her friend’s conundrum last summer with the brothers Gruger.

Charity bit her lip as Julia continued. “New siblings are one thing Charity, a husband is quite another.” She sat back in her chair. “I think you should get to know Michael better; then decide what you feel.

Julia was right. Charity could not say that she knew more than a handful of things about Michael. Lady Shalace was not pleased when Charity told her she wished to consider Michael Poppy as a suitor; as a husband. But if she were in love Charity was sure she could convince her mother to agree to the match, especially if she convinced her father first. Of course, she wasn’t in love with Michael Poppy, but perhaps she might fall in love if she got to know him better.

“I suppose I should get to know Michael better before I make a firm decision; that is true.” Again Charity sighed. “It is only that Michael is so stoic and rooted.”

“He is a good man, Charity.” Her friend said in a softer tone. “I do not think he would ever bring you unhappiness.”

“But would he bring me happiness? The man hardly ever smiles.”

“Michael is just shy. If anyone should be able to bring him out of his shell, it would be you, Charity, much as you have done for me. After all, you and I get along swimmingly and I have been called quite dire.”

Charity smiled slightly as she raised her teacup to her lips and then put it back down.

“And broody, and melancholy.” Julia persisted. She waved a spoon as if it were a paint brush in her hand.

Charity laughed outright them.

“No longer,” Charity said. “I think married life agrees with you.”