Caroline smiled into her teacup. “Nothing. Continue.”

Charlotte shot her a dark look as she resumed her pacing. “As I was saying, my other plans succeeded just as well. So therefore, there must now be something wrong with my mind that I cannot succeed in a simple task like falling in love.”

“I thought your plan was just to seduce Lord Carlisle?”

Charlotte paused before the fire, looking into the glowing coals. “It was, but that’s changed. I…Alasdair…oh, it’s too complicated to explain. You must trust me when I say it’s imperative that I fall in love with him. The seducing will be no effort after that.”

Caroline thought that Charlotte was well on her way to being in love with her husband, but wisely kept that information to herself. Charlotte, like the obstinate horse of fable, could be led to the water, but not made to drink unless she thought herself thirsty. “How can I help you, Char?”

“Well, if I knew that, I’d have a plan!” Charlotte replied grumpily, then spun around and slumped into a nearby chair. “Oh, forgive me, Caro. I don’t mean to be snappish, it’s just that everything seems to be going against me of late. I’ve never been so blighted in all my days.”

“Blighted?” Caroline thought it time to administer a few truths to snap Charlotte out of what appeared to be a sickening wallow in self-pity. “You, blighted? I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. You are the loveliest woman I’ve ever seen. Men have written poems to your beauty.”

“And I have a husband who doesn’t see any of it,” Charlotte replied morosely, picking at the braid that ran the length of her gown. “He is forever nattering on about beauty not being important. He’s just like Gillian in that respect—neither of them truly appreciates just how difficult it is to have a face that inspires lust in men.”

Caroline thought it best not to pursue that avenue of thought. “And you have a husband, a handsome husband, the man you selected.”

“Who won’t bed me until I am in love with him.”

“Bedding isn’t everything, Char.”

“Well, of course it isn’t! I of all people am aware that a marriage can be conducted without any beddings. It’s just that this time…I had hoped Alasdair…and he has all that lovely golden flesh…and my parts tingle, positively tingle when I think about him…oh, never mind.”

“Mmm. Well, there’s also the fact that you are a countess.”

“A poor one. Alasdair’s pockets are to let. I am economizing!” Charlotte pronounced the last word in a manner that combined shame and indignation most effectively.

“Still, you are a countess,” Caroline pointed out.

“Yes, I am, and to be sure, it is my only comfort these days.”

“You are…” Caroline cast her mind about for something else positive. “Oh! I know—you have been welcomed back into the arms of Society, and that was your main goal.”

“I have been welcomed back…” Charlotte restlessly rose from her chair and went to poke viciously at the fire. “Yes, I am allowed back into the hallowed ballrooms of the ton, but for what purpose? What good is it? I have been shamed before everyone, and Alasdair has had his manhood slandered. That horrible cat Lady Brindley made sure she spread the word to everyone.” She stared into the fire, her cheeks warmed by an embarrassed blush rather than by the feeble flames. “If I had any doubts before that I no longer fit in the ton, I have none now. I am an outsider, a castaway, adrift in a sea of the unfashionable.”