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still tempted to refuse. But what would be the point? Her mother would be punished as well as Charlotte. She could only hope a miracle occurred to keep Lord Samuelson from wanting to marry her.

Somehow, she had to make that happen and make certain he didn't like her. But she had to proceed with caution. She couldn't do it in an obvious fashion, or as her father had warned, there would be a price to pay. With reluctance, she nodded, wondering what the evening would bring.

~*~

Charlotte pressed a gloved hand against her stomach as she entered the Washburn ballroom that evening. She glanced about warily, relieved that Lord Samuelson wasn't waiting for her. The knot of dread that had formed in her stomach since the conversation with her father had only tightened while her mother had watched carefully as Mary, her lady's maid, had assisted Charlotte to dress. She couldn't remember seeing her mother so agitated in a long time.

“Tighten the stays more,” she’d directed the maid.

Then she'd had Charlotte change gowns three times before settling on the pale blue muslin with embroidered white flowers along the neckline. Fixing her hair had been another challenge. Nothing suited her mother. Charlotte had finally waved away the maid, settling on a tight chignon at the back of her neck with a few wisps left along her temples.

Then she stood and presented herself to her mother. “Will I do?”

Her mother scowled at her defiant tone. “You will smile and act charming. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mother.” Charlotte had yet to think of some way to repulse the lord without being caught at it.

“I will accompany you this evening to make certain that you do.” Her mother gestured for Mary to follow her out the door.

Now Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to where Lady Wynn greeted their hosts. She was careful not to look around further. The longer she postponed the meeting with Lord Samuelson the better.

At last, they stepped into the ballroom and greeted a few familiar faces before continuing slowly around the room.

“Smile,” her mother said under her breath.

Charlotte did as she was bid. She wanted her mother to be able to report to her father that she had behaved. She didn't want her mother to pay for her actions. Nor did she wish to be locked up in her room for days on end when she had every intention of asking James to escort her on another outing.

The thought of him loosened the knot in her stomach considerably. If only he were here this evening. But the only ball she'd seen him at was the one where he'd come to confront her about Lord Palmer. She didn’t think he’d attend this one without a reason.

“Good evening, Charlotte.” Margaret Gold smiled then greeted Lady Wynn with a curtsy. “I hope the evening finds you well.”

“Indeed, it does.” Charlotte’s mother answered for both of them. With a pointed look at Charlotte, she added. “Doesn't it, my dear?”

“Yes.”

From the odd look Margaret gave her, she knew she wasn't fooling anyone. With a faint shake of her head to discourage Margaret from asking questions, Charlotte forced more of a smile. “This is such a lovely ballroom.” She knew it was a ridiculous thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything else to pretend as if all was normal.

“I especially like the vines wrapped around the columns.” Margaret glanced around the room as if trying to think of something else to add.

Charlotte could have hugged her for catching on so quickly.

“Wait until you see the refreshment table,” Margaret added. She looked at Charlotte's mother. “So many appetizing items and endless amounts of champagne.”

“Oh?” Lady Wynn glanced in the direction of the refreshment room. “Perhaps we should make our way there.”

Charlotte’s heart felt heavy at the realization that her mother eagerly wanted a drink. Did she find spending an evening with Charlotte so trying or was it the thought of reporting to her husband all that had transpired that made her want to do so?

Guilt settled heavily on her shoulders. Perhaps she should go along with Lord Samuelson's interest if he indeed had any. She had no desire to make her mother more miserable than she already was.

Lady Thompson, a friend of her mother’s, greeted them and the two were soon deep in conversation. It relieved Charlotte to know her mother still had a few friends with whom to speak as they lifted one’s spirits. Unfortunately, companionship was one more thing from which her mother had stepped away.

Margaret drew back and tipped her head, suggesting that Charlotte follow. “What is going on?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“I am to speak with Lord Samuelson this evening.”

“For what purpose?” Margaret's eyes narrowed. “He is far older than we are, is he not?”

“My father has an understanding of some sort with him.” Charlotte sighed. “I'm supposed to be charming as well as quiet and biddable when we speak.”

“You must be jesting.” Margaret shook her head, her dismay increasing Charlotte’s. “Have you ever noted his teeth? They're rather frightening in appearance, large and yellowed.” She gave a mock shudder.

“Perhaps that's why he so rarely smiles.” She wasn't certain if knowing the reason was reassuring.

“Oh dear.” Margaret glanced out the corner of her eye before returning her gaze to Charlotte. “Here he comes now.”

“Already?” Charlotte could hardly catch her breath. “I thought I would have more time to prepare.”

“Do you truly think that would help?” Her friend’s grimace was answer enough and nearly made Charlotte laugh.

Margaret's question allowed her to realize she was being silly. She’d already met the man and nothing untoward had occurred. She should use this moment to look at him with fresh eyes and try to find something they had in common before she determined whether she needed to try to push him away.

She looked in his direction as he neared only to feel her hope flicker before promptly snuffing out. What common ground could she possibly find with the man? He was quite tall

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