“By whom?” Papa asked once he’d managed to find his tongue.
“Hmm?” Charlotte wracked her brain for an answer while shoving more food in her mouth. As long as she was eating, she wouldn’t have to speak.
“Who has asked for your hand in marriage, Charlotte, and why in blazes hasn’t he come to me first?” Papa glared at her as if she were an enemy combatant he’d like to skewer with his bayonet.
“Language, dear,” Mama murmured. She patted her husband’s hand before telling Charlotte, “I wonder why you haven’t mentioned this gentleman before. And where on earth could you possibly have met him? You’ve not attended a ball in ages. So that can only mean you must have encountered him during one of your many walks. Which is highly inappropriate and doesn’t speak well of your intended. I mean, what sort of man would think to approach an unmarried lady with whom he’s not acquainted. Unless of course—”
“Well?” Papa raised an eyebrow and waited while Charlotte swallowed her food. “Answer your mother.”
Drat it all. She’d have to say something now.
“That’s exactly it.” Charlotte decided to latch onto the explanation her mother had just provided. By incorporating her recent experience in the East End, she hoped her story would sound credible. “Mr. Wright…er…came to my aid a couple of months ago when a thief stole my reticule.”
Charlotte’s mother paled. “You never said.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Where did this happen?” Papa asked.
“In the park,” Charlotte said, deliberately meeting his gaze for the purpose of selling the lie. “The thief came out of nowhere. He threatened me with a knife.”
“Good grief,” Mama gasped.
“I could have been seriously injured, or worse, had Mr. Wright not come to my rescue.” There was no turning back now. Not unless she planned on getting married to Mr. Cooper, which she most certainly did not. And just like that, whatever guilt she felt about being dishonest died in the face of what her parents had planned for her – marriage to a stranger who might very easily be short, fat, and balding. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but—
“Where on earth was Daisy during all of this?” Papa asked.
“Ah…” Charlotte would have to hunt her maid down before her parents got the chance to do so and beg her to back up the lie that was now expanding like foam in a poorly filled glass of champagne. “She was helping a child who’d fallen and scraped his knee.”
“What child?” Mama wanted to know.
“A small one,” Charlotte said. She took a hasty sip of her tea. “He’d broken away from his group, I think, and tripped over a stone or something. Honestly, I was too distracted by the thief to notice.”
“And Mr. Wright gave chase, I suppose?” Mama asked, her brow knit with concern.
“Indeed,” Charlotte said. She returned her cup to its saucer. “He caught the scoundrel and returned my reticule to me.” Fiction was so much more pleasant than real life. “Since then, I’ve happened upon him a few times. We’ve talked at great length on a number of subjects, and then yesterday quite out of the blue, he proposed.”
“Did he really?” Papa didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“Considering my dwindling chance of getting married, I leapt at the opportunity and accepted right away. I was intending to mention it to you this morning since you were both out last night at the theatre.” Thank God or Charlotte wasn’t sure how she’d have explained the delayed declaration of her upcoming nuptials, no matter how fictional they might be.
“Considering I’ve never heard of this Mr. Wright, he cannot be a member of the peerage or the aristocracy, which means he must be a bloody nobody,” Papa stated.
“I believe he’s a Scottish entrepreneur,” Charlotte said.
“I…see.” Charlotte’s mother blinked a few times and eventually reached for her tea.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” Papa thundered.
Charlotte stared back at his outraged expression. She wanted to yell at him for assuming she’d fall in line like her sisters and give up her hopes and dreams for a future she no longer wanted. Except doing so would undermine her attempt at pretending she’d already gotten engaged. So she pushed down her anger and schooled her features. “If that is how you define falling in love, Papa, then I suppose I must have.”
He threw up his hands. “Unbelievable.”
“You’ve no idea,” Charlotte muttered.
“What was that?” Papa demanded.
“Nothing,” Charlotte assured him with a fixed smile while taking another sip of her tea.
“Well.” He glanced at his wife, then back at Charlotte. “I want to meet this Mr. Wright no later than tomorrow.”
“You won’t have to wait that long since he’s due to arrive here in roughly one hour.” She began eating as quickly as she could. There was much to be done before Mr. MacNeil came to call. She had to speak with Daisy. A bouquet of flowers would have to be purchased. Somehow, she’d have to convince her newly employed guard to play along. Her heart began racing with uneven beats.
“Excellent.” Papa stood, whatever fatherly affection he’d shown toward her earlier was now completely buried behind a façade cut from granite. “And just so we’re clear, I’d better approve of him, because if I don’t, you’ll be marrying Mr. Cooper the moment he sets foot in England.”
Charlotte sank back against her chair while her father marched from the room. She couldn’t understand his reasoning. What did it matter if she didn’t marry the man he’d selected for her? The only thing she could think was that her father would be embarrassed by wasting Mr. Cooper’s time. Unless there was something else she wasn’t aware of.
“Charlotte?”
Expelling a deep breath, Charlotte met her mother’s inquisitive gaze. “I suppose I should go and prepare myself for my fiancé’s arrival.”
“Your father and I value honesty, Charlotte.” It was clear Mama wasn’t completely convinced by the story either. “Armed robbery in the park while there were at least three other people nearby? Honestly, dear. We don’t appreciate being lied to. Especially not by one of our daughters.”
“And I don’t appreciate being manipulated into something I do not want.”
“We’re only trying to safeguard your future.”
“I know.” Perhaps if she’d confided in them from the very beginning, she wouldn’t be in this mess. But no, her parents would never support her writing or her desire to be independent and different. They wanted her to adhere to a model they understood, and that involved getting married and having children. The end.
Which meant there was only one thing for it. She’d simply have to convince them Mr. MacNeil was Mr. Wright and make sure they approved of him so they’d not force her to break off her imaginary engagement. Which Mr. MacNeil still knew nothing about. How hard could it possibly be?
Determined to succeed, she refused to answer that question, finished her toast, and excused herself from the table, then rushed to find Daisy.