Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
prologue: a chance encounter
❦
Charlotte Wentworth always enjoyed London. The sights, the people, the food. It all always seemed to trump anything in France. Do not get her wrong, Paris was always beautiful. But would somewhere you grew up in stay beautiful forever? Charlotte did not seem to think so.
Sometimes, the young woman wished she spent her childhood in London rather than Paris. Who knew what her life would have been like. What would have happened instead of what it was presently.
One thing in particular that separated France and London was the distinct difference in people's attitudes. People in London were kinder, to put it quite simply. From simply strolling around the town she would be presiding in, Charlotte could tell that the people in London were more content with their lives. At least from the surface, it seemed. Charlotte knew better, however. She remembered her mother telling her how much London thrived on gossip. It was almost as important as drinking water to them all.
Exchanging smiles was always a game of chance in France. You could give someone a passing turn of your lips and one of two instances could occur. You could be blatantly ignored, or you get a scowl in return. In London, however, people actually smiled back at Charlotte when she passed walking civilians on the street. It was an absolutely fascinating sight to see along with the many attractions and vendors.
Charlotte knew she would have to get back soon. She and her siblings were expected to greet Lady Danbury, their parent's dear friend, at her manor, something that would be imperative to make a good first impression, seeing as the siblings would be living with her for quite some time. But even so, she could not look away from all the books displayed in front of her.
The Wentworth was always fascinated with books. She enjoyed literature and appreciated the art form it possesses, and not to the naked eye. She found putting together the hidden meanings in the pages to be the best kind of challenge to take on. She loved expanding her mind to something she had not thought of before. Some would say that would set her apart from other women her age.
Women were not expected to be educated on anything except how to pleasure their future husbands. She had been told that an insurmountable of times back in Paris. And it did not get her anywhere. It got her a world of pain, and she would be damned if she found herself in a situation like that again.
London would be different. She would make sure of it. All she wanted to do was be there for her sister and find her the best husband London had to offer.
Heaving a deep sigh, Charlotte looked away from the delightful shelf and made her way to the counter to pay for the book she would be purchasing to read for the upcoming weeks. With a gentle smile, the woman gave the clerk her money and went on her way. But before she could even step onto the sidewalk and into the semi-busy traffic of the pavement, she was suddenly knocked back by a surprising force.
The chest she unexpectedly ran into was firm, with plenty of layers of clothing guarding the skin. Stifling an exclamation, so startled she dropped her new book on the ground, Charlotte let herself lock eyes with the person, now man, she had run into.
He was well kept. Clean-shaven with his hair slicked back but not too gelled to the point where it was stiffened and peaked. He held the same startled expression as her, eyes slightly wide, lips parted. Charlotte felt her mouth go dry. He was attractive to say the least. The very least.
"My apologies, my lady," he blurted through the thick silence between them. He was almost flustered, which he seemed to not be used to, "I should have been looking where I was going."
They both dropped to a crouch at the same time, both wanting to pick up what was dropped. They lock eyes again.
Charlotte breathed a small chuckle, "I believe I hold some responsibility. I should've slowed my pace coming out of the shop..."
She did not know what else to say. She could not think of anything else to say, quite frankly. He was just so... captivating. Charlotte was normally more enclosed when it came to talking with men, especially men that held such a strong presence such as he did. Which probably explained why words came slightly harder for her in the present moment.
The man was the first to reach for the, almost forgotten, book that laid between them. He inspected the cover, surprise, yet impression, in his tone, "Jane Austen? A true classic, she is."
"Yes," Charlotte raised a brow as they stood up straighter, glancing at him then the book in his grasp, "I once got my hands on Pride and Prejudice and now I'm trying another one of hers. Have you read it?"
Persuasion was the title.
The man could have fully laughed at the question. If only he had the time to read freely like everyone else, "I have not. But I'm sure you will find it liberating. I've heard her books do wonders for the soul."
"I have heard that as well..."
The two were swept into silence once more, giving themselves another chance to simply observe the other. He was almost looking at her expectedly, as if he was waiting for her to say or ask anything. She still did not know his name, but for some reason, she was content with that. If she was going to stand by the life she chose for herself, she did not need to know his name. She did not want to know his name. Her mind was made up.
After a small clear of her throat, Charlotte glanced at the book in her hand before addressing him, "well, I should get going. I'm sorry again for running into you."
Barely giving him time to digest her sudden leave, Charlotte walked past him, not giving him a second look back, until his words stopped her, of course.
"Wait," Anthony Bridgerton tried to call as he continued to watch her, "aren't you going to give me your name?"
Smirking to herself, Charlotte answered in a way she would never have addressed a gentleman before. But this time was different. She did not need to tell him anything, in fact. With that in mind, the woman turned around and gave him the simplest answer she could form, "no."
