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 17

by Henrietta Harding


  “You do plenty,” Lord Easterly assured her, but he did not explain the remark as the innkeeper’s wife bustled by yet again.

  They fell silent and ate. It would be better if they could leave the inn as swiftly as possible. As soon as they finished breakfast, Lord Easterly announced he was going outside to make arrangements.

  “Arrangements?” Charlotte wondered what he meant.

  “If you are not going back to London, I need to make arrangements for you to travel home with an escort.”

  Charlotte stared at him for a moment. She wanted to hug him for his kind understanding, but she knew the dreadful woman from the inn was probably watching. “That is kind of you, Lord Easterly.”

  “Let me see if they have a carriage waiting. I will need to start back to London shortly so I can escort my sister back to Berwick Manor.” Lord Easterly went out of the door of the inn but Charlotte followed him.

  Charlotte asked, “Amanda is leaving London? Is the season over?”

  “It is not at its conclusion, but it will be before long and I think my sister needs to learn a lesson about how she behaves in public before she goes back to the next London season,” Lord Easterly said in a matter of fact manner that left Charlotte no doubt that he was serious.

  Charlotte nodded. “I shall get myself ready to travel.” She left Lord Easterly to his business and went back upstairs. She had no bags to collect, but she took a moment to collect her thoughts as she sat on the bed. She was going home.

  A sense of relief washed over her. Lord Easterly was not going to make her go back to London. Of course, she would have to face Amanda if he insisted on bringing her home, but that was something she could worry about later.

  *

  As soon as he had made the arrangements for Miss Browne to return to Berwick Manor, Graham bid the woman farewell and headed to London. His thoughts lingered on the previous night and the kiss, but he was also worried about the innkeeper’s wife. The woman was a known gossip and she would have plenty of people to whisper to with the amount of travellers that went through the inn every day.

  Graham gave it two days to be all over London. Miss Browne might have been surprised at his ready agreement to her going home, but Graham knew she would be better there away from society and its wagging tongues. A rumour as juicy as this one would make the gossip rags and society papers, and Graham had no interest in exposing Miss Browne to the full force of that.

  At the London estate, all he really wanted to do was take a rest. But there he had other things to do. It was nearly evening again by the time he made it, but he still called Amanda into his study. Graham was in no mood for her silly antics as she harrumphed into the room.

  “It is nearly time for us to eat,” Amanda grumbled as she fell into one of the chairs with indignation.

  Graham absentmindedly picked up a pen and rolled it over his fingers, flitting it from one to the other as he did when he thought. “Believe me when I say that I am far hungrier than you, dear sister. I have been riding all day.”

  “And I would think you would be eager to go to the dining hall,” Amanda said in exasperation.

  Graham hardened his gaze at his sister, who seemed to finally take notice of his disposition as she stilled her fidgeting. “In the morning, or as early as the household can prepare, we shall be returning home.”

  “What? The season is not yet over!” Amanda practically howled with the injustice of it all.

  Graham was not moved by her outburst. “Over the course of this season you have shown me that you are not ready to be out in society. I had thought you grown, but I can see that my absence at war did you far more harm than I realised.”

  “What are you on about?” Amanda stood up, her nostrils flaring.

  Graham told her calmly, “Your antics at Lord Stanhope’s tea party, for instance. Your treatment of someone you call a friend is appalling and unworthy in a lady of your stature, Amanda. We do not throw stones at others for we are not without sin, Sister.”

  Amanda looked down at her feet. “Is that why she ran off?”

  “No. She left to return home because you told her that you would be humiliating her again and she could not stand anymore. She would rather take her chances with highwaymen, Amanda.” Graham slammed his fist on the desk. “I have been too soft-handed with you. That ends now.”

  Amanda gasped. “What about my suitors? What will I tell people?

  “You will tell them nothing,” Graham responded with another slam of his hand on the desk. “I shall send out letters explaining our return home. If your suitors are that enamoured, they can seek an audience with you there.”

  Amanda folded her arms and pouted. “I do not suppose there is anything I can do or say to change your mind.”

  “Nothing whatsoever,” Graham replied. “You may go to your eagerly awaited meal.” He waved his hand towards the door.

  Amanda pressed her lips into a thin line at the dismissal as she spun on her heel and stomped towards the door. Graham pinched his nose between his fingers as his sister slammed out of the study.

  By the next morning, the household was in an uproar with the sudden departure. The staff were in a frenzy trying to get everything ready for Graham and Amanda to leave as soon as possible. Graham knew it had been a foolhardy wish to think they would be ready to go so soon.

  He walked around the house and kept an eye on the staff after he had written his letters excusing the family’s sudden absence from the season. It looked quite possible that they could depart the following day. Graham was feeling quite good about it all, until Amanda came flouncing into his study while he was having tea.

  “Brother, you made the papers, although I daresay that Miss Browne got the worst of it,” Amanda announced as she flung the paper in front of him.

  Graham muttered, “So soon? That woman at the inn certainly runs her mouth quickly.”

  “So it is true then?” Amanda looked at him appalled.

  Graham waved off her condemnation. “We did not sleep in the same room, nor did we engage any other activities, Dear Sister. I merely got us a room and left it at that. The innkeeper’s wife simply saw Miss Browne without a chaperone.”

  “Well, it is her own fault,” Amanda spat.

  Graham scoffed. “It is no more her fault than mine that we were in that situation. I could have forced her to return at once to London.”

  “You were doing a noble thing, Brother. Do not take the blame onto yourself just because you are a chivalrous man.” Amanda tapped the paper. “Even the paper holds you not at fault.”

  Graham eyed the paper. It barely mentioned him but went into great detail of telling recounts of Miss Browne’s exploits during the season. “I daresay you have a hand in this, Amanda. Had you not pulled that stunt at Lord Stanhope’s the damage would not be so severe.”

  Amanda put her hands on her hips. “I merely set the record straight. There is no use in someone pretending to be something they are not.”

  “You are the very one who put her into that situation, or have you forgotten?” Graham noted the look that went across Amanda’s face. Was that guilt he saw? If it was, she covered it quickly. “Do not cast stones, Sister. They might well bruise you in due course.”

  Amanda left the room in a huff. Graham stared at the paper and hoped that news of the scandal would not reach Berwick Manor before they did. He shook his head and set aside the scathing paper. He could do precious little about it.

  Scandals always hit women harder than men, and Graham chafed at the thought that his own actions were not accounted for. He had not rebuffed the kiss. No, as he recalled he had quite enjoyed it.

  Graham shook his head and stirred some lemon into his tea. He was beginning to get a headache from thinking of the scandal. Lemon tea had been one of his mother’s remedies for almost any ailment and at the moment Graham would take all the help he could get.

  Thankfully, the household staff worked through the night and they were indeed ready to depart the
next day. He shepherded an unhappy Amanda out to the carriage. She sank into her seat with a sigh. “This is ridiculous, even for you Graham. We are leaving the season because of a penniless harlot.”

  “Watch your tongue, Amanda,” Graham warned as the carriage lurched forward.

  Amanda waved her arms around wildly. “Why? Who will hear me?”

  “I will hear you,” Graham told her. “Perhaps you should try pretending that you are a lady since you like putting other people up to it.”

  Amanda glared at her brother. “How dare you?”

  “You knew Miss Browne’s situation before you goaded her into taking that position. Yet you chose to exploit it. That is not ladylike behaviour, according to the manners you were taught, is it?” Graham sighed and shook his head. “I pray that you change somehow and see the error of your ways.”

  Amanda fell silent and glared out of the window. Graham was just fine with his sister to ignore his existence. At least the ride home would be a quiet one.

  *

  Charlotte stared at the paper she had picked up. The maid tried her best to get it from the table before she sat down, but she had not been quick enough. “Don’t take it to heart, Charlotte,” the maid said. “It’s just a gossip rag. Miss Easterly likes to read them.”

  Charlotte stared at it. “The things they say about me, yet they do not mention Lord Easterly much at all.”

  “Men often fair better than us in such things,” the maid said softly. “For what it is worth, I am glad you are back. I felt awful about how Katrina goaded us all to treat you. It wasn’t fair of us.”

  Charlotte looked up at the maid, whose name she had never learnt, but who was familiar to her. “Oh, it is fine. I do not hold a grudge against that. I was in the wrong, after all. Katrina had a right to that position.”

  “All the same, it was horrible of us.” The maid gave her a smile and gently took the paper. “Don’t think so much about this. No one around here reads this, or even can.”

  Charlotte frowned. “I do not belong here. My reputation is ruined. What am I to do?”

  “I don’t know, Miss,” the maid said with a frown. “I am sorry for what it’s worth.”

  Charlotte nodded. The maid slipped away, and she was left with her thoughts. She had known it was possible, nay likely, the innkeeper’s wife would have a loose tongue, but to have the scandal hit so quickly was enough to make Charlotte’s head whirl.

  The next thought that entered her mind was that Lord Easterly and Amanda would be due back at the manor any day. No doubt Amanda will have already read about the scandal. What would Lord Easterly tell her?

  Charlotte had acted so scandalously that she would not blame the man for being offended or telling people what she had done. Lord Easterly had seemed as cordial and kind as ever at the inn, but when had he not behaved that way? “Maybe I am taking how he naturally is for something more,” Charlotte whispered to her teacup.

  She made up her mind right then to leave. She would visit no more scandal upon this family and house. There was no reason for her to be here anymore.

  She was neither employee nor guest. She was merely a burden. She went upstairs and retrieved a wide-brimmed hat that would protect her from sun and rain.

  When she left, she slipped out the side entrance to avoid having to speak to anyone until she reached the stables. “Excuse me,” she said to one of the stable boys. “I would like to borrow a carriage to take me to the church so that I might visit my family’s graves.”

  “Sure thing, Miss!” The stable boy flashed her a smile and ran off before Charlotte could say anything else.

  Charlotte let out a breath she had been holding. That was easier than she thought it would be.

  A carriage was readied and pulled around the front. Charlotte thanked the men profusely and told the driver where to take her. The carriage ride was quiet. She dared to even say it was peaceful.

  When the carriage came to a halt outside the church, Charlotte climbed out. “Thank you so much. There’s no need to wait for me. I shall be going to the vicarage when I am done here.”

  “Are you sure, Miss?” The driver, who had been the same one who picked her up that first day from the vicarage, gave her a look of discomfort. “I don’t much fancy leaving you on your own, even on these quiet roads.”

  Charlotte waved off the man’s concern. “I shall be fine. Now, I insist that you take the carriage back to Berwick Manor. I am sure that Lord Easterly will be arriving today and you would want to be there to greet him, would you not?”

  The mention of Lord Easterly seemed to make the difference as the man nodded. Still, he hesitated. “If you are sure?”

  “I absolutely insist,” Charlotte said firmly. “I practically grew up walking the road from this church to the vicarage. There are no highwaymen waiting in the shadows.”

  The man relented with another nod. “Then I shall be off.”

  Charlotte watched with relief as the carriage pulled away. She stood there until it was well on its way back down the road before she turned and made her way into the cemetery.

  She walked over to the graves of her parents and her brother. Charlotte smiled down at them. “I have come to visit. I know it has been a long while.” She sank down into the grass beside Charles’ grave. “You would be most vexed with all the trouble I have got myself into, Charles. I can almost hear your scolding now.” She wiped away a tear. “I’ve messed things up.”

  The wind blew a leaf into her lap and she picked it up. Drawing in a deep breath, she stood up. “I shall come again soon. I fear it is going to rain.”

  She placed a kiss upon her hand and touched Charles’ gravestone. The wind whipped through the trees bringing a chorus of chattering and chirping from birds and squirrels. Charlotte left and headed toward the vicarage.

  There was dread in her for what she might find at the house of the Wilson family. She did not know if she would be turned away or not, but she had to try. When she reached the quaint home, she gave the door a timid knock with her knuckles.

  A bedraggled looking Mrs. Wilson came to the door. The woman stared at her in surprise for a moment before she burst out, “Charlotte! How wonderful to see you!” The woman enveloped her in a warm hug, which Charlotte leaned into.

  “It is good to see you too.”

  “Come in, come in!” Mrs. Wilson ushered her into the house. “It is about to start storming. What were you doing out walking?”

  Charlotte said, “That might take a while to explain. May we sit?”

  “For what time the children will allow,” Mrs. Wilson agreed. She led the way into the kitchen and put a kettle on as Charlotte explained what had brought her to the vicarage.

  When she had finished her harrowing tale, Mrs. Wilson set the tray of tea on the table. The woman sank into the chair opposite Charlotte. “And here I thought I had had a rough day. You sound as if you have had a rough month.”

  Charlotte nodded and accepted the cup that the woman handed her. “That is why I am here. I find myself lost and in need. I was hoping you might show me kindness and allow me to stay here.”

  Mrs. Wilson frowned. “You would come back here after all that? I do not know if you would much enjoy tending to children after being out in society, Charlotte. What about your dreams?”

  “I am afraid that my dreams may just be that. I just wish to make my life as I best can.” Charlotte looked at her hands. “I know you do not owe me anything, but I would earn my keep.”

 

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