Page 5 of A Baron’s Most Inconvenient Marriage (Delightful Lords and Ladies)

Chapter 5

“It is quite simple, really,” William declared, pacing the length of Sebastian’s study like a lawyer presenting his case. “You are in need of a respite from your mother’s relentless matchmaking, and Charlotte needs protection from society’s wolves.”

Morning light filtered through the study’s tall windows, catching dust motes that danced through the air like scattered thoughts.

Sebastian sat behind his late father’s massive oak desk, where ledgers and mining reports spread out before him like an army awaiting inspection. The familiar scent of leather bindings and India ink wrapped around him like an armor.

“There is nothing simple about the notion of courting your sister,” Sebastian responded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Especially not after last night’s… events.”

“That is precisely why it is so perfect,” William stopped his pacing, bracing his hands on the desk’s polished surface. “Your attention, as a baron would silence the gossips, her natural wit will keep you entertained, and both of you will be spared the exhausting ritual of proper courtship.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly does one improperly court a lady while maintaining her reputation, Fairfax?”

“By being honest about it.” William’s expression held the same determination he had shown when teaching Sebastian chess in their youth—each move carefully calculated, each possible outcome already considered.

“Tell her the truth. That it is a temporary arrangement, one that will benefit you both. Charlotte has always appreciated directness, you know that.”

The thought of Charlotte’s face from the previous night—hurt and proud and trying so desperately to hide both—rose unbidden in Sebastian’s mind. “Do you not think your sister deserves more than a false courtship born of pity?”

“Pity?” William’s laugh held genuine amusement. “Bash, when have you ever known Charlotte to accept pity? No, this? This is strategy, my friend. Much like using a queen to protect a valuable pawn in chess.”

“An interesting analogy, considering the queen is the most powerful piece on the board.” Sebastian shuffled through his papers, more to occupy his hands than from any real interest in their contents. “And you rather seem to be forgetting, that in chess, the pawn can eventually become a queen itself.”

“Exactly my point,” William’s smile held a hint of triumph. “Charlotte is no delicate flower needing shelter. She is perfectly capable of managing society on her own terms. But even the strongest player occasionally needs strategic support.”

Sebastian stood, moving to the window. Below, in the carefully maintained garden, a robin hopped between two precisely trimmed hedges, its natural movements somehow highlighting the artificial perfection of its surroundings.

Rather like Charlotte at last night’s ball, he thought—wild grace confined by social constraints.

“And what does your sister think of your masterful strategy?”

“Ah.” William’s slight hesitation spoke volumes. “The thing is… I haven’t exactly… proposed it to her just yet.”

Sebastian turned sharply. “You haven’t told her?”

“I rather thought it best to first secure your agreement first. Charlotte can be rather… passionate in her responses to unexpected suggestions.”

“You mean she is likely to reject the idea outright.” Sebastian couldn’t help but smile, remembering some of Charlotte’s more spectacular reactions to unwanted guidance from her brothers—or anyone else for that matter.

“Unless…” William’s tone turned thoughtful. “Unless of course you were to approach her yourself. Directly, honestly, as one friend to another.”

Sebastian returned to his desk, studying the estate papers without really seeing them. The idea did hold merit, he could not deny that. A quiet courtship with someone he knew and respected would keep his mother’s matchmaking at bay, affording him time to sort through the estate’s troubles.

And Charlotte’s practical knowledge, combined with her refreshing directness might just prove valuable in dealing with some of the challenges facing Blackthorn Hall.

“I will consider it. But I do think it best if you discuss it with your sister first,” he said finally.

Wiliam’s expression brightened. “Excellent! Then I shall—”

“I said I will consider it.” Sebastian held up a hand. “ After I have reviewed these mining reports and determined exactly how much attention I can spare for social matters.”

“You always were a methodical one.” William moved toward the door, then paused, “Perhaps… do not take too long, Bash. Charlotte might be resilient, but even the strongest spirit can we worn down by constant criticism.”

Sebastian shot a questioning glance at William. “Before we make any further plans, don’t you think it prudent to get your sister’s approval?”

William nodded. “Of course. I shall be back once I have spoken to her.”

After William’s footsteps had disappeared down the corridor and his carriage had departed, Sebastian leaned back on his chair, raking his hands through the dark curls that sat atop his head.

This was either madness or genius—but only time would tell.

***

“I have arranged for Sebastian to court you,” William announced with all the delicacy of a battering ram against a castle gate.

Charlotte’s paintbrush clattered to the floor, sending a spray of watercolor across the morning room’s Turkish carpet. “I beg your pardon?”

The morning light streaming through the tall Palladian windows suddenly felt dim, though surely that was just her imagination. She stared at her brother, waiting for him to laugh, to reveal his poor attempt at a joke.

But William's expression remained earnest, almost proud, like a child presenting a muddy bouquet of wildflowers—completely certain of the gift’s value while being utterly blind to its complications.

“It is rather perfect when you think about it,” he continued, pacing the length of her favorite painting room with increasing animation. “Bash needs a respite from the marriage market, and you need protection from society’s gossips, and—”

“So, I am to be some sort of… of social shield?” Charlotte’s voice emerged higher than intended.

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, painting them the same shade of red of the watercolor staining the carpet. “A convenient prop in in whatever game you and Sebastian have devised?”

William stopped pacing. “Charlotte, that is not—”

“Did it occur to either of you to ask what I might want?” her hands trembled as she set down her palette. “Or am I to be managed like one of father’s investments—moved about the social exchange for maximum benefit?”

“Charlotte—”

“No.” she stood, her chair scraping against the exposed floor behind her with satisfying force.

“You saw me make a fool of myself last night. You watched me destroy my chances at a respectable match. And now, you have the gall to think you can somehow salvage my reputation by arranging a false courtship with the very man who also witnessed my complete humiliation?”

“Bash doesn’t see it that way, he—”

“Feels sorry for me?” the words tasted bitter on her tongue. “How wonderfully charitable of him.”

“Charlotte, this isn’t charity.”

“What is it then?”

“Strategy.” William’s voice held the same patient note he used when explaining estate matters to their younger cousins.

It made Charlotte want to throw something at his head. But instead, she raised an eyebrow at him to continue. “Bash’s attention as baron would silence the gossips, and you would both be spared the exhausting ritual of proper courtship.”

Charlotte laughed, though the sound held none of its usual humor. “And you think improper courtship is better? Tell me, brother, how am I supposed to maintain any shred of dignity while pretending to court a man who is only participating out of pity and convenience.”

“It is not pity—”

“It is worse.” She cut him off. “It is calculation. Cold, practical calculation.” She turned to the window, blinking hard against the threat of tears. “Did you truly think I would be grateful? That I would thank you for arranging this exquisite solution to the problematic subject of your embarrassing, wild, sister?”

William’s reflection in the window showed genuine distress. “Charlotte, please. I am only trying to help.”

“By having the man I—” She caught herself just in time, but the slight widening of William's eyes suggested that he had heard the unspoken words anyway. “By having Sebastian pretend an attachment toward me, he does not feel? How precisely is that helping?”

A heavy silence fell between them. Charlotte could hear the ticking of the mantel clock, each sound marking another moment of her mortification with relentless precision. Behind her, William shifted uncomfortably.

“I did not realize,” he said finally, his voice gentler. “Your feelings for Bash, are they—”

“Irrelevant.” She finished firmly. “As is this entire scheme of yours. I will not entertain it. Any of it.”

“Charlotte—”

“No. William.” She turned to face him, chin slightly lifted in what their mother called her ‘stubborn pose’. “I will not be part of this. I would rather weather society’s disdain and deal with the fallout than to spend weeks pretending indifference to a man who sees me as nothing more than a convenient solution to his own social obligations.”

William’s expression darkened. “You are being unreasonable.”

“And you, dear brother, are being insufferable.” She retrieved her fallen paintbrush, gripping it like a weapon. “I suggest you take your leave and tell Lord Blackthorn to find another lady to practice his charitable courtship on. God knows there are plenty who would jump at the chance, false though it might be.”

“I went through considerable trouble to arrange this.” William’s voice held an edge now. “Sebastian only agreed because he genuinely wishes to help.”

“Then he can help by forgetting this ridiculous plan entirely!” Charlotte turned back to her painting, though the colors blurred slightly before her eyes. “As can you.”

She maintained her rigid pose until William’s footsteps faded down the hall. Only then did she allow her shoulders to slump, the paintbrush dropping from suddenly nerveless fingers.

“Well done,” she whispered to her own reflection in the window. “You have managed to ruin everything twice over.”

***

“She refused,” William announced, striding into Sebastian’s study for the second time that day, but this time, he had the air of a general reporting a lost battle around him. “Rather spectacularly, as only she could, I might add.”

Sebastian looked up from his estate papers, noting the unusual dishevelment of his friend’s typically immaculate cravat. “I take it your sister was less than enthused by our strategic alliance?”

“She compared it to being traded on the social exchange.” William dropped into a chair, running a hand through his hair. “Though, I must say, her analogies grew considerably more cutting as the conversation progressed.”

“I can only imagine,” Sebastian set aside his pen, the metal tip gleaming like a small weapon in the afternoon light. “Your sister has always had a particular talent for precise verbal dissection.”

“This was more than her usual sharp wit, Bash.” William leaned forward; his expression uncommonly serious. “I have never seen her quite so… wounded.”

Though it was only a single word, it struck Sebastian with unexpected force. He remembered Charlotte’s face on the balcony the night before—proud and hurt and trying so desperately to hide both. The memory sat uncomfortably in his chest, like a book shelved in the wrong section of a carefully ordered library.

“Perhaps,” Sebastian said carefully, “we approached this with too much strategy and too little consideration for Charlotte’s feelings.”

“ We ?” William’s laugh held no humor. “I am the one who bungled the presentation. I clearly remember that you had not even agreed to the entire thing when I left.”

He shot his friend a brotherly smile, though it held a note of sarcasm. “You are now free to return to your ledgers and mining reports, while I must somehow attempt to repair my relationship with my sister.”

“Hmmm. No easy task.” Sebastian said, at which William scoffed.

William sighed. “I should have known better than to present it as a fait accompli . An accomplished fact,” he added after seeing Sebastian’s frown. “Charlotte values her independence above almost everything else.”

“Almost everything?”

Something flickered in William’s expression. “There are some things she values more. Though, she would rather face social ruin than to admit them.”

Sebastian turned back to his friend, studying him with the same attention he usually reserved for complex problems. “There is something you are not telling me.”

“Several things, actually.” William stood, straightening his cravat with practiced motions. “But they are not mine to tell. I simply came to inform you that our plan has failed, rather spectacularly, before it has even begun. You are released from any obligation you might feel toward—”

“And what if I do not wish to be released?”

The words surprised them both. Sebastian hadn’t intended to voice those thoughts, and yet, there they were, hanging in the air like a challenge.

William’s eyebrows rose significantly. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your sister deserves better than a strategic alliance presented as you put it so eloquently, as a fait accompli ,” Sebastian said, the idea forming in his mind as he spoke. “She deserves to be approached directly, honestly, with all cards laid on the table.”

“Bash—”

“I shall call on her tomorrow.” The decision felt right, like finding the correct solution to a complex mathematical equation. “Properly, with all the formality her position deserves.”

“She is more likely to throw you out than hear what you have to say, you know.” Despite his words, William’s expression held something akin to hope. “Charlotte can be… remarkably stubborn when she feels her pride has been wounded.”

“Then I shall have to be equally stubborn in my determination to heal that wound.” Sebastian returned to his desk, already mentally rearranging tomorrow’s schedule. “After all, what is it your father always said about estate management? That the most valuable properties often require the most careful handling?”

“Did you just compare my sister to a piece of property?”

“I compared her to something of great value that deserves proper respect and admiration.” Sebastian picked up his pen again, though his mind was already far, far away from estate matters. “Does that answer satisfy you, Fairfax?”

“I…. well, I suppose… yes.”

“Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to compose a proper calling card.”

William moved toward the door, then paused. “Bash? If you are truly going to do this… please do it properly. Charlotte deserves that much.”

After his friend left, Sebastian sat staring at the blank calling card before him. The simple act of writing his name had never seemed more complex, more fraught with possibility and peril.

Tomorrow, he thought, would prove to be a most interesting day indeed. Then, suddenly, another reality crashed in, and one thought danced behind his eyes: How on earth was he going to explain this new development to his mother?