‘Is there something I should know?’ Audrey had demanded. ‘Truly Charlotte, I do not know what you mean.’

Charlotte had pursed her lips, annoyingly mysterious. ‘If you marry Allingham you will know, soon enough.’

It had been a very unsatisfactory answer but she had left it. They had chatted for a while longer before Audrey had prepared to take her leave. It had been a far from satisfactory visit. She had hesitated for a moment, but concern had impelled her to ask. ‘Are you all right, Charlotte?’

Charlotte Bennett had made a moue of impatience. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

‘It’s just that you seem a little… out of sorts.’

‘I am perfectly well. Tired, of course. There is always such a lot to do that I declare, I am quite exhausted at the end of the day.’

Audrey wondered what a married lady who was in possession of a comfortable household and a large amount of servants found to occupy her to the point of exhaustion. She had discovered after her father had died and they had been forced to retire to a small cottage no more than a mile from Barnstable, their former home, that there was a great deal to do each day to survive. She had joined her mother in the vegetable garden and, as they’d managed with no-one other than their devoted housekeeper and their mother’s equally devoted personal maid, had taken on whatever other household chores needed to be done. It had been an eye-opening experience and one that had given her a new appreciation of all of the services domestic staff performed for their employers. But Edmund Bennett possessed a good income and employed enough people to ensure his lady had nothing to worry about and curiosity had prompted the next question.

‘What is it that keeps you so busy?’

Charlotte had looked at her blankly. ‘Why, there are any number of things. Really, with shopping and attending the endless occasions one is forever being invited to, I swear I can scarcely keep up.’

‘Ah,’ Audrey murmured. ‘I see.’

She had wondered if she should ask if Mr. Bennett accompanied his wife to these numerous soirees but decided it would be an ill-advised question. The state of Charlotte’s marriage was obviously not the same as that of Audrey’s siblings. She was so used to Harry and Isabella spending time together – enjoying spending time together – that she had thought Charlotte would still be glowing with that flush of happiness she had seen in her when they had been discussing the girl’s forthcoming nuptials. Instead, wishing her visit to end on a happy note, she had retreated into the commonplace, a safe topic that was sure not to upset her friend in any way.

‘I must say, that’s a delightful gown, Charlotte. It becomes you very well.’

It had been an excellent tactic for Charlotte had launched forth on the manifest skills of her dressmaker, how she had made a variety of exquisite gowns for a variety of occasions, how she could not wait to go to such-and-such’s assembly or rout or masquerade and show all off her new creations to the world. It had all been said in such a rush of frantic gaiety that Audrey had been taken aback when suddenly, in mid sentence, Charlotte’s face had crumpled and she began to cry. Horrified, Audrey had set down her teacup and had hurried across to perch on the arm of Charlotte’s chair, putting an arm around her shoulders.

‘My dear, whatever is it? What is wrong?’

After a few, breathless, snuffling attempts to control her tears, Charlotte had told her what was wrong. How her marriage was a sham, nothing like she had thought it would be. How she spent so very little time with her husband that he was practically a stranger to her; how he always had somewhere else to be, usually in the company of his friends. How she was sure he was keeping a mistress – a mistress after only five months of marriage! – and, how infrequently they shared a conjugal bed together.

Audrey had been appalled and not just because she had ended up the recipient of so many personal, disturbing revelations. She had seen Charlotte the day before her marriage and the girl had been aglow with happiness, sure that a new, wonderful life was waiting for her just around the corner as she started her journey into the future with a man she loved and who, she was convinced, loved her just as well.

‘But it must have been a sham, don’t you think?’ she had sniffed miserably into a handkerchief. ‘All those pretty words, those protestations of eternal devotion. I had thought Edmund loved me but it must have all been a lie for we were no more than a few weeks married before he began to lose interest.’

‘I’m sure he did love you,’ Audrey had tried to reassure her. ‘That he does love you. Of course he must. He is just… well, gentlemen do spend time at their clubs, do they not? And as for the rest,’ Audrey had not been at all sure what she was supposed to say about the rest of the revelations she had heard. She knew it was commonplace to take a mistress or a lover after marriage – she was not naïve, after all – but it did seem unusually callous so soon after marriage. And she was quite certain she would not want to be married to a man who did so.

Not surprisingly, Charlotte was having none of it. She was already convinced that she had been shamelessly bamboozled by her husband and her resentment was obvious. After a time she appeared to collect herself and once again assumed that rather brittle, hard edge that Audrey had noticed earlier.

‘Oh I am making such a fuss! What will you think of me?’ she’d said, affixing a smile firmly in place that held no genuine warmth whatsoever. ‘As Mama delights in pointing out, I have nothing to complain about, after all. I made a good match of it and my position is hardly unique. Look at poor Letty Hindmarsh, married to a man who, if the rumors are true, beats her regularly. Indeed, her Papa had to intervene now that she is expecting. And Margaret Hartley. Do you remember her, Audrey? She thought she was so lucky, snaring a lord but he took her back to Devon and left her in his moldering ruin of a castle while he returned to London to continue on as if his marriage had never taken place. At least Bennett isn’t inclined to lock me away and he doesn’t beat me.’ The smile faltered for a moment, the misery clear in her eyes. ‘Indeed, I have done very well for myself. The most I have to complain about is that my husband is rarely here. And perhaps that is a good thing. It is impossible to quarrel with a man one never sees.’

It had been a very unpleasant call and Audrey had taken her leave feeling as if she had done very little to comfort Charlotte, for she had had no notion of what to say. It had been an insight into a world she was unfamiliar with, where marriage was no more than a convenient alliance. It seemed that it had been entered into by Edmund Bennett to secure himself an heir, but how unfair to poor Charlotte. It seemed to Audrey that her friend had been duped and she had left Martin Place feeling as if the life she assumed people lived behind their neat, respectable front doors might have nothing to do with the reality of the situation. How many of the unions the girls she had known during her first Season had turned out the way they had dreamed they would? Despite the fact that everybody knew about the cold common sense of the Marriage Mart, she was prepared to wager that most females took on the role of wife with an optimism that was rarely justified. Was marriage merely a conduit to loneliness, which was surely the exact opposite of how it should be? Had Marcus and Isabella been shamming their apparent delight with their partners?

The idea had made her especially vigilant in the company of her brother and sister but it had taken very little time to reassure herself that her siblings’ marriages were exactly what they appeared to be; Audrey was reassured by the sight of four truly happy people who were very much in love. Nobody could counterfeit such contentment. That was what real love was. It made her feel sorrier than ever for poor Charlotte Bennett but all the more determined to discover a similar love for herself. If Isabella and Marcus had found it, surely she could manage to do so as well.