“He’s early.” She fumbled with the buttons of her maroon pelisse, unable to get them through the holes. “He’s not early my dear, you’re late.”Aunt Mary gently pushed Charlotte’s hands aside and did up the last few buttons. “It’s very unlike you.” “I know.” The number of things unlike her was growing by the hour, and for the first time ever she didn’t mind. What she did mind was not being ready for his arrival. “Please greet him and tell him I’ll be down in a moment but don’t tell him why.” “My dear, I’d never reveal a lady’s secrets.”Aunt Mary swept out of the room, leaving Charlotte to finish getting ready. She considered changing into the puce pelisse then decided against it, afraid she’d spend the whole evening dressing and miss the chance for a ride. Hearing Lord Woodcliff and Aunt Mary’s voices drifting up from below, Charlotte grabbed her reticule and bonnet and made for the hallway. “Here I am,” she announced, descending the stairs.
