Under the Seductive Lady's Charm: A Historical Regency Romance Book

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Under the Seductive Lady's Charm: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 10

by Henrietta Harding


  Footsteps marked the return of the doorman. Behind him came a rather confused Lord Easterly. James stood up and offered the man his hand. “Lord Easterly, I do not think we have been formally introduced. I am Lord Stanhope.”

  Lord Easterly shook James' hand and James was genuinely surprised at the strength in the man’s hand. “Any relation to the Earl of Brunswick?”

  “He is my brother,” James admitted, even if though pained him to do so. “I was wondering if I might call upon a lady of your house.”

  Lord Easterly cleared his throat. “There is only one lady who resides here. Allow me to speak with her and I shall see if she is free.”

  James did not relish waiting again, but he knew he was pushing his luck by showing up unannounced. The household was actually being quite accommodating and he assented to wait with a nod of his head.

  Lord Easterly disappeared. James sat back down as the doorman took his place again within earshot of the door. Fortunately, Lord Easterly soon reappeared. “If you will follow me,” he said with impossible politeness.

  James stood up. “Right behind you.”

  He followed Lord Easterly down the hallway. James had never been so close to the man before and was surprised at how truly tall and imposing he was. He dwarfed James by a few inches, and James immediately decided that he should probably make a friend of Lord Easterly.

  Lord Easterly led him to the conservatory, where he announced James as Lord Stanhope and then ushered him into the room. “This is my sister, Miss Easterly. I have other matters to attend to, but I have arranged suitable chaperones.”

  James did not like the sound of that. He took in the room. A lovely lady whose blonde hair was a little darker than he expected waited for him while perched on the edge of a plush sofa. Lord Easterly left James to his fate, which seemed to include a couple of elderly women who sat nearby at a table where they could observe them from a discreet distance.

  The name was wrong but perhaps she had gone by an alias for some reason. Did not people do that at times with those silly balls? Still, she did not look right for the lady he had danced with and he felt disappointment settle over him.

  “Forgive me coming over like this,” James said to the young woman, who eyed him with open curiosity. She was a lovely thing. He tried to remember what the mask she had worn at the ball looked like so he could envision it on her but failed. “I was hoping that perhaps you were the lady I met at the ball last night.”

  She pushed out her lips as if giving the matter some thought. “I do believe I would have remembered us becoming acquainted.”

  Her voice sealed it for him, James knew it was not the same young lady. Yet, here he was, and she was of a nice respectable stature. “Oh well,” James said with a smile. “We are acquainted now. Let us make the best of it.”

  Miss Easterly gave him a look over that James liked. She clearly was a young lady who knew what she wanted, and if he was not mistaken, he saw a bit of want in her eyes now. He gave her a smile that she returned, even if she did hide it a bit behind her hand for politeness.

  Yes, she might not be who he was looking for, but it was entirely possible that she might be a wonderful young lady to get to know anyway.

  *

  Charlotte was sitting in the library enjoying a brief respite. She had been allowed a blissful hour of quiet and even though she knew not the reason she was going to take advantage of it by reading. She was lost in a book when Henry, the doorman here at the London house, gave the door of the library a knock with his knuckles. “Pardon me, Miss Browne, but there is a delivery for Miss Easterly.”

  “Oh?” Charlotte had never received a package for Amanda before. She followed the doorman back to the entrance hall to find a vase of flowers waiting. Charlotte could not help but glance at the note attached to them. “They are from a suitor. She will be delighted. Is she in her room?”

  Henry shook his head. “She is entertaining a guest in the conservatory.”

  Charlotte scooped up the vase and gave Henry a smile. “I shall make sure she gets them.”

  Ever since her decision at breakfast to start looking for her own destiny, Charlotte’s mood had improved. She was hoping that this trend of Amanda being kept busy by guests and suitors would continue and she might be able to manage a free hour to go into town. Perhaps she could come up with a reason to visit somewhere away from the estate.

  Charlotte pondered what she really wanted as she walked down the hallway. She might not marry a prince or anything similar, but thought she might possibly marry a merchant or even a soldier. Yes, perhaps she could, but there was still the dowry.

  Her thoughts were warring back and forth as she entered the conservatory. It was only as she entered that she heard a male voice. She knew that voice. Charlotte quickly ducked back out of the room before anyone noticed her.

  She breathed a sigh of relief at her narrow escape as soon as she was well out of sight. Lord Stanhope was here. Why was he here? Had he worked out her secret?

  No. Charlotte doubted that very much. After all, if the man had sussed her out, would she not know about it by now? He must have come to call upon Amanda. There was a little flair of jealousy in her that Charlotte tried to squash down. She had no reason to be jealous of a man she had only just met.

  Although, he was a man who had offered to court her. That surely had to count for something. Charlotte took the vase upstairs to Amanda’s bedroom.

  Katrina was laying out a dress and looked up at Charlotte’s entrance. “What is that?”

  “A vase of flowers for Amanda from a suitor,” Charlotte explained as she set the flowers down on the dressing table. “She was with a visitor, so I did not want to disturb her.”

  Katrina nodded and Charlotte left the room quickly. Since they had been in London, Katrina had not exactly been nice to Charlotte, but they had fallen into a pattern of ignoring each other. Charlotte was fine with that.

  Out in the hallway, she thought more about the man with Amanda in the room below and she could not resolve her feelings on the matter. Charlotte took the stairs down with a destination in mind. When she felt lonely or sad at home, Charlotte would often escape into the garden.

  Thankfully, the upper crust of society had wonderful gardens and Charlotte went out of the door with a sigh of relief. She walked among the flowers. It was not until she sat down that she began to truly think of what she had lost and where she was.

  She wanted to marry. She wanted to be happy and to be proud of herself again. Charlotte could hardly remember what that felt like.

  How long had it been since she could truly look in the mirror and like who she was? Charlotte thought it was probably before her father died certainly. He would never have allowed her to live this way. She shuddered to think what he would say if he were here now.

  A bird let out a mournful cry. She looked all around but couldn’t see any sign of the bird.

  She pushed down her tears. She would not cry. There was no reason to cry. She had a plan.

  Still the tears came. Still they rolled down her cheeks. Try as she might to wipe them away, they remained anyway.

  Katrina was happy in her role. The thought of the maid brought shame to Charlotte. How could she not be happy with what another felt contented with?

  “I am no better than Katrina,” Charlotte told herself. She did not belong in fancy balls and yet they persisted behind her eyes when she closed them for even a moment.

  Lord Stanhope had been intrigued by her, why could not another man? Charlotte reminded herself that Lord Stanhope had been enamoured with a falsehood. Amanda’s cruel joke had gone wrong because she had caused him to suffer as well. Would she tell him of it?

  Charlotte wondered if they might marry and then laugh about her little maid playing at being a lady. “What a lovely story to tell their children,” Charlotte whispered. “I will not have children. I shall raise other people’s children.”

  If being governess was what it took, then that was what sh
e would do. She could scarcely do otherwise and at least she had some experience. Charlotte sighed up at the clouds. “Pray you send lightning down and strike, lord.”

  The skies remained spitefully clear and Charlotte resigned herself to her fate. What would she do otherwise? She had not saved much, not nearly enough to offer as a dowry.

  She covered her face and cried as softly as she could. It would not do to bring attention to herself with a guest about. She would die of the embarrassment if Lord Stanhope truly saw her for what she was.

  *

  Amanda found Katrina upstairs and gave the girl a smile. “I had the most charming visitor. You will never guess who it was.”

  Katrina eyed her with guarded curiosity. Amanda grew tired of waiting for the girl to guess. “It was that mysterious Lord Stanhope who danced with Charlotte at the ball last night. He came here hoping to find her and instead found me.” Amanda sighed as Katrina looked at her. “I told you all about this. Do you listen to me?”

  “Of course, Miss,” Katrina assured her. “I have simply never had someone such as yourself confide things in me before.”

  Amanda put her arm around the maid’s shoulders. “I trust you. We are friends, are we not?”

  “Certainly we are.” Katrina seemed to stop fighting against it and laughed.

  Amanda said, “See you just have to relax. I assure you that I can be a lovely person to work for.”

  “But what of Charlotte? Will he not search for her more?” Katrina now that she had given herself permission to gossip seemed rather interested.

  Amanda grinned at her. She released her shoulders and waltzed over to her bed. “I think he has seen the light. I am a far better catch than an imaginary heiress.”

  “I still cannot believe that she even went to that ball. I would never do such a thing. It is so above our station.” Katrina shook her head and crossed her arms.

  Amanda sat down on the bed. “That is why I like you, Katrina. You know your place and you are content in it. Charlotte is so uneasy with herself.”

  “Yet you were friends with her as a child?” Katrina asked the question boldly enough but added, “I mean no harm by asking.”

  Amanda lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Children are children. As adults, we understand that the world is different than how children see it. Everyone has their place.”

  “You like this Lord Stanhope?” Katrina asked with a grin. “He must be quite handsome.”

  Amanda nodded and sighed in contentment. “He is quite charming and dashing. He has better fashion sense than my brother, but that does not take much.” She smiled. “He makes all my other suitors look plain and droll.”

  “I cannot say that I have ever had a man put me in such a mind as this one has you.” Katrina leaned against the bedpost. “I do wonder sometimes what it would be like to have a love, a really deep and passionate one.”

  Amanda bit her lip. “I wonder that too. Maybe that is what this is. I feel like I’m flying, but also like I am falling.”

  “My mother loved my father very much, but I do not know that she ever felt like that,” Katrina said with a giggle.

  Amanda frowned. “I do not know if my mother truly loved my father. They did get along so that was something. Mother liked to travel, and Father did not. That is mostly what I remember from my childhood.”

  Katrina’s eyes grew soft. “It is quite odd what we remember from being children.”

  “I hope my children can remember their mother being breathtakingly in love with their father.” Amanda wrapped her arms around herself. “Perhaps that father will be Lord Stanhope. He has these stormy eyes that I think I could swim in, but I might drown in their depths.”

  “It does sound as if you are quite smitten, Miss,” Katrina agreed.

  Amanda, as much as she was loathe to throw her eggs all in one basket, had to admit that there was something quite special about Lord Stanhope. “I think I might be. I do believe that my brother would call me foolish. After all, I have met the man one time.”

  “But he did call on you at your home. That is practically an invitation to courtship.” Katrina went to the wardrobe and took out a dress. “Do you think this dress will be suitable for tomorrow?”

  Amanda looked at the dress and nodded. “I think it shall do nicely. I do hope that tomorrow brings more news of my new paramour.”

  Katrina lay the dress aside. “I shall fetch you some tea. Do you wish anything else?”

  “Biscuits if the cook has any,” Amanda said as she fell over onto the bed dramatically.

  *

  Graham handed the correspondence to one of the stable boys, who would deliver it swiftly. The letter was to a Mrs. Lennox who was here in London with her family for the season. The woman was looking, or at least had been looking for, a governess.

  The only downside was that Mrs. Lennox normally resided in Bath, which was a good deal farther away from Dallington. Graham was unsure if Miss Browne would want to be that far away from her family’s burial plots. Arrangements could always be made, but the first step would be to see if the woman was still in the market for a governess.

  He had taken the liberty of recommending Miss Browne in the off chance that Mrs. Lennox was still in need of help. If by some chance Miss Browne did not want the position, then it was not etched in stone. With his correspondence sent, Graham turned to find Miss Browne.

  Graham went to the conservatory but found it empty. A search of the upstairs yielded no Miss Browne either. When he did not find her in the library either, Graham could only think of one other place she might be.

  He made his way out to the garden. At first he saw nothing. But as he rounded a corner in the hedgerow he found Miss Browne with her head bent. He could tell she was crying and he frowned.

  Graham had not intended to startle the woman, but the grass and her sobs must have disguised his approach because, as he came to stand beside her, she nearly tumbled off the stone bench at his sudden presence. “Still yourself, or you will surely cause grave injury,” Graham said as he held out his hands, unsure as to whether he should attempt to steady the woman.

  Miss Browne looked up at him through watery eyes. There were phantoms in her eyes that Graham wished he could banish. If only he could have been there for her after her father died.

  The blame was on his shoulders for that, but he would make it right. “Why are you crying?” His voice held more tenderness than he had intended. He did not know himself even capable of such voice yet there it was.

  “They say there is someone for everyone, Lord Easterly, yet I do not know if that is true.” She wiped her eyes with her damp handkerchief.

  Graham sat down on the bench beside her, not too close but near enough that he could speak softly. “The poets do seem inclined to believe that. I should like to hope that perhaps we are given more than one chance at such things.”

  Miss Browne whispered, “You have your duchess, but what have I? I have no fortune and without that, it seems happiness cannot be bought.”

  “I assure you, Miss Browne, that you are a splendidly attractive and personable young lady.” Graham gave her a smile. “I am certain that you would have no trouble finding a husband if indeed that is truly what you want.”

  Miss Browne looked down at her hands. “I thought I wanted a path to independence, to my own future, but…” She looked up at him. “I find that the more I think of my future that I do not see myself alone. I want someone to share it with.”

 

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