The meal has been eaten; the house servants had made this delicious meat pie for the officers and the ladies. Charlotte saw in the parlor a pianoforte. She probably looked at it for a while because Wilkins invited her to play if she wanted to.
"I would not want to impose, and I haven't played in weeks" she said.
"Oh ! What a good idea, Lady Charlotte. You should" Florence excitingly said.
Seeing the officers sitting down on the couches near the piano, she sat down, sliding her fingers softly on the keys. She started to play a waltz, quite slow, to warm up her fingers. She didn't remember how long she played; she always lose track of time with music. She felt her eyelids began to feel heavy, and she could not help but yawn. It was time for a good night of sleep. She thanked her host, and quietly made her way to the room she was landed.
Florence went up with her to help her undress. She was working on the ribbons behind her back while Charlotte removing the pins holding her hair, daydreaming. Maybe she was so tired, or maybe she was thinking too much. Florence knew her lady like no one. They knew each other since they were little girls.
"Que ce passe-t-il ?"
They would always spoke french when they were alone. Florence's mother was Charlotte's nanny growing up. Her father hired her because he wanted his only daughter to speak fluently French, which she now does. Florence was only a few years older than Charlotte and the girl would be inseparable. With four older brothers, another girl to play with had been welcome. She knew how to ride a horse and find her way in a wood, but some other times, she liked to chat and have tea.
"What if William is not happy to see me here? What if he doesn't love me anymore? Or as much as he did?"
"Stop worrying about those things. He told you so many timesp he does in his letters, don't you remember? I am sure he will fall in love again when he'll see you tomorrow. Just like the first time you two met."
When they met. Charlotte thought about that night, probably 3 and half years ago. It was the first ball of her debut in society, this old tradition of showing off daughters of marriage age. She was holding his father's arm, who was presenting her to so many gentlemen that they began to look all the same. Her father left her for a moment and she was encircled with half a dozen men who were fighting off for her attention. She was clearly uncomfortable, but too polite to say anything. Then he came to her and took her hand saying "There you are. I think it's time for that dance you promised me". She didn't know him, but he felt like her savior at that particular moment. They introduce themselves just before the music started. She had to look up to meet his gaze, his pale blue eyes were so captivating, locked on her. His dark hair were neatly put in his queue and his uniform was impeccable. She knew they were being watch by probably everyone in the room. Men were jealous of him, women jealous of her.
After the music stopped, he offered his arm and they went outside to the garden, to breath fresh air. They talked like they knew each other for long even though they had just met few minutes ago. All she could felt was butterflies in her stomach. He would told her later on, but the first time he saw her, surrounded by all those gentlemen, he knew she was the one he wanted for the rest of his life. He had been single for years, by choice. A lot of women fancied him, he was good looking, a promising officer from a distinguish family. But all he wanted was her.
That summer, he sent flowers, took her on a lot of different outing, riding, walks in gardens, balls. He made it very clear to others suitors that she was his. She felt like she was a real princess with him. He would hold her to his arm proudly. They would take about anything, politics, gossips, literature. They would laugh. He rapidly had a talk with her father to ask for her hand and her father told her how she really was. She spoke her mind, she ride astrid on the family country estate, that would not please every men. Tavington looked at her father, and told him that it was exactly why he was so found of her. She was different. Her father gave his blessing and they were wed at the end of that summer.
They had been together a year or so when he was sent to the colonies to tame this rebellion. Little did she know they would still be apart two years later. The day he left, she was with child. The sadness of him leaving and the constant worries about his well-being in the war probably made her lose the child in the month following his departure. He wrote to her friends to make sure they would take care of her when she stopped going out. Even hundreds of miles apart, he knew how to take care of her and she loved him even more. She began to go out again, with her friends, with her sisters in law. She felt alive again. Until one of her friends told her she would leave for the colonies to be with her husband. That gave her the idea. She started to write to William to know what he would think of her arrival. Selfishly, he told her that her place was by his side, even though war is no place for a lady of her standing. She also wrote to her father, a general also in the colonies, and he was categorical; she should stay in London. She took her time, thought it trough, and bought her ticket.
Tomorrow, she would be with the love of her life.