Charles bowed politely, smiling at both ladies in turn. He hoped he didn't look as nervous as he felt.
"It is my pleasure to see both of you as well," he said and followed their example by taking a seat. The immediate niceties were simple enough, but his brain scrambled for an appropriate topic of conversation. His father would be disappointed if he so much as breathed a word about sonnets. "My mother and sister send their fondest regards."
He hoped either of his hostesses had more interesting things to say than he did. As much as he enjoyed poetry, which was trying to force its way back to the forefront of his mind, there was a distinct chance that either of of the ladies before him felt quite the opposite.