“She is charming,” Margaret said quickly. “Very…er, spirited.”
He made a noncommittal noise of agreement but Lord Torrent cut short any more talk of Louisa right before he could find a way to suss out why on earth she’d have been escaping her own house via a window.
“Shall we take a moment away from the ladies to discuss the land we’re offering to sell?” Lord Torrent finally broke his broody silence and at the most inconvenient time.
Lawrence forced a small smile. “Yes. Certainly.”
He followed the older man into his study and sat through yet another round of meaningless chatter before Torrent got to the issue at hand.
The land.
Lawrence had been prepared for this. Obviously. It was the whole reason he was here, he’d never doubted that.
What he was not prepared for was for a certain young lady to be thrown into the bargain.
The wrong lady.
He shook off the thought. There was no right lady, only an unwanted proposition. One that he had most definitely not seen coming. He stared at Torrent for a long moment after the man stopped speaking. To his credit, the gentleman did not so much as fidget beneath his stare.
Now he knew where Louisa got her nerve, he supposed. She had her father’s backbone and her mother’s green eyes. But where had that blazing red hair come from? It made her look like a flame come to life. Bold and beautiful, and with a mind of its own.
Right. He’d officially lost track of this conversation. “Are you suggesting that…” He cleared his throat as he tried to find the right words. “You would like my marriage to Margaret to be a part of this…sale?”
“No, no.” Her father looked offended, and rightly so. “I merely meant… It could be fortuitous for everyone if we were to unite our families.” He paused for a moment. “Do you not agree?”
“I, uh…” Drat. He should have seen this coming, he supposed. He knew that they were looking to marry off their eldest, and he knew that they were in financial trouble, likely looking to find a wealthy match as well.
He should have seen this coming—he would have seen this coming if he hadn’t been distracted by a certain redhead with a penchant for causing chaos in his life whenever she appeared.
Even now…what was he doing thinking about her at a time like this? Get out of my head, blasted woman.
To Torrent, he merely inclined his head thoughtfully. “It is certainly worth considering.”
This seemed to satisfy the older man and some of the tension left the room.
“For now, however,” Lawrence continued. “Let us focus on the sale of the property, shall we?”
“Oh yes, yes,” Torrent said briskly. “The sale is quite… That is, the timing of it is quite critical.”
Lawrence gave another nod of understanding. Rumor amongst his peers at the club had it that Torrent had gotten up to his eyeballs in debt. Worse yet, he seemed to owe money to some unsavory types. The details had been hazy at best, and gossip best taken with a grain of salt.
However, even the whisper of this sort of gossip was usually rooted in truth.
He had no wish to see the neighboring property of his countryside estate sold off to creditors or stripped apart to make ends meet. And besides, he’d always rather liked the strip of land in question.
Right up until it was time to go into dinner they discussed the details of a deal that he supposed would keep the creditors off the older man’s back…for a little while, at least.
By the time they went back to join the others to head in for a meal, Lawrence was not altogether surprised to find Margaret laughing brightly at something Gregory had said. If there was anyone who could put a nervous lady at ease, it was his friend.
Even Lady Torrent seemed to have lost her stiff, anxious edge as she led the way into the dining room with her husband.
He supposed now was as good a time as any to try again, now that everyone was so at ease. He waited until the first course was served before bringing up Louisa in the most nonchalant tone he could muster. “Tell me, where is your other daughter this evening?”
That lovely ease? It disappeared in an instant.
Lady Torrent froze with a spoonful of soup hovering in front of her before she seemed to find her voice. “Louisa?”
He might have imagined it, but he thought he caught Margaret wince at her mother’s tone.
Lawrence knew he was trying not to wince, so perhaps he was projecting.
“She is at finishing school,” Lord Torrent answered on his wife’s behalf.
That seemed to calm her because she smiled brightly and returned to eating. “Yes, we’ve enrolled her at Lady Charmian’s new school for young ladies.” Her smile turned beatific. “It is so good for these young ladies to learn the finer points of etiquette, don’t you think?”
He managed a smile but it was nearly impossible to keep from making a joke about Louisa’s etiquette on the dance floor. Or her charming manners when she happened to land upon a gentleman in an alley.
It was difficult, but he suppressed the urge with a cough and a sip of his wine. His particular brand of humor wasn’t entirely welcome at the best of times, and now any attempts to bring levity to the situation would surely go amiss.
Besides, he’d made a promise to Louisa, and so he could not bring himself to mention that he’d seen her not two hours ago. Which still begged the question…why had she been running away? Unless she wasn’t running from her family…but from him.
No, that made no sense.
Did it?
He accepted the next course that the servant set before him and took several bites before trying again. “It is unfortunate that she could not join us this evening.”
“Mmm.” It was difficult to assess whether Lord Torrent’s mumbled response was in agreement or disagreement, before he returned to his meal.
Gregory shot Lawrence a questioning look, which he ignored. Not one to sit by idly for long, Gregory turned his attention to Margaret again and the two became engrossed in a conversation about art that Lawrence couldn’t quite follow even if he’d wanted to.
He didn’t want to because he still hoped for an answer of some sort. He’d never had much patience for mysteries and the riddle that was Louisa begged to be solved.
“They must keep your daughter quite busy at this school—”
“The School of Charm,” Lady Torrent finished. “Is that not a lovely name?”
“Charming,” he joked. His dry tone once again made his attempt at a jest fall flat.
Louisa would have laughed. Or maybe just rolled her eyes with a little huff of amusement.
And since when had he started to predict how that strange creature would behave were she here?
The point was, Louisa was not here, and that was all that interested him—the mystery that was Louisa’s bold and graceless escape. “The school must keep her quite busy,” he said again, looking around pointedly.
“Oh yes. The girls are always socializing with the best families,” Lady Torrent said.
He just barely held back a sigh of exasperation. Right. Enough of this. It was time to be more direct. “I suppose that is why she could not be here this evening?”
No one responded immediately. Finally, Lord Torrent responded stiffly. “I am certain Louisa would have enjoyed meeting you and your friend this evening, my lord, but you know how it is with these young ladies. There is always somewhere they need to be.”
“Always on the go!” Lady Torrent added.
On the go, that was one word for it. He had a feeling ‘sent away’ was more apt. Something unpleasant twisted his gut at the thought of her expression just before she’d left. Do not tell my family you saw me.
It was starting to become clear now. She was not worried that they’d learn she had been running away, but rather that he had seen her—when clearly he was not supposed to.
The thought did not sit well. Not at all.
Was the girl eccentric? Undoubtedly. But she
was also sweet and vibrant and full of life. She was a breath of fresh air. And right about now, this dining room was feeling claustrophobic with its staleness.
“I am certain you will meet her properly one day soon.” Lady Torrent’s smile was disconcertingly knowing as her gaze flickered from him to Margaret. “It is kind of you to take such an interest in our family.”
He cleared his throat and reached for his wine, not entirely certain how his rather bland remarks about Louisa’s whereabouts could have been taken as a signal that he had an interest in their family.
Come to think of it, he wasn’t entirely certain what she meant by ‘interest in our family.’
It seemed best to back away now, while he still could. Her tone was bordering on…menacing.
Or maybe that was just his imagination.
He caught Gregory smothering a smile as Lady Torrent not-so-casually turned the conversation to an upcoming event at Lord Everley’s home to which they had all been invited. Lord Everley was another mutual acquaintance—one who Lawrence knew only slightly but who’d seemed determined that he accept this invite when they’d run into one another at the club.
“I have several invitations for that evening, I’m afraid,” Lawrence hedged. “I am not quite certain I will be able to make it.”
“Oh, but you must.” Lord Torrent had spoken so little throughout the meal that everyone seemed to stop what they were doing to take notice. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “I know he’s so hoping to better make your acquaintance.”
Lawrence held back a sigh. He’d gotten the same impression at the club. He’d also felt a little dirty after their brief run-in. The other man’s smile had felt cold, his manners disingenuous, and his eyes held a maliciousness that made his skin crawl.
The fact that Lord Torrent’s features seemed to tighten with discomfort at the mention of the man only added to his unease.
“Margaret will be there,” Lady Torrent added with an ingratiating smile.
He forced his lips up as well. What on earth was he supposed to say to that? Oh, well then, I shall drop everything, shirk my commitments and come join you for a tedious soiree.
“I’m sure Louisa would be happy to join us, as well,” Lord Torrent added.
Lady Torrent looked to her husband in obvious alarm before fixing Lawrence with another one of those vapid smiles. “Oh, yes. Certainly. If it is important to you to better acquaint yourself with all members of this family, I am positive that can be arranged.”
I have other plans. Thank you but no. I will have to check my schedule.
He had several evasive non-answers at the tip of his tongue, and yet what came out of his mouth was, “Then I shall look forward to seeing you all there.”
Everyone in the room seemed mightily pleased by this, and he felt compelled to add, “And I will look forward to meeting Miss Louisa under…different circumstances.”
“Of course, of course,” Lady Torrent said.
He listened with only half an ear as she chattered on blithely about who would be there and what they could expect.
Lawrence didn’t care.
He had no use for Everley or his parties…
Unless it meant he’d have another chance to see Louisa.
Chapter Six
This is it. Louisa took a deep, steadying breath. The time had come. She was about to have her short life taken from her by her very own mother—and while Miss Grayson and Margaret looked on, no less.
Louisa braced herself for her imminent demise.
“Are you certain that perhaps you are not overreacting?” Addie asked as she pried Reggie from Louisa’s embrace. She’d wanted one last snuggle with her favorite little boy before the inevitable.
“Overreacting?” Louisa shot back. “Me?”
Addie’s lips were twitching in an obvious attempt not to laugh. “You do not even know for certain if Tumberland mentioned your little…tumble.”
“You tumbled onto Tumberland.” Prudence giggled like a child behind her until Louisa shot her a narrowed-eyed glared. Prudence’s lips straightened along with her shoulders and the uncharacteristic display of silliness was over.
“Really, Louisa, I don’t know how you get yourself into these situations,” Delilah said with a shake of her head. Of course Delilah wouldn’t understand. She’d been raised to be the perfect young lady and she excelled at it. Oh, certainly, she was more than a little spoiled and her priorities were not altogether morally aligned—but other than that she was exactly the type of young lady that Louisa’s mother had always wanted her to be.
Delilah was perfect. Just like Margaret.
“Maybe he did not tell your parents that you—” Addie started.
“Of course he did,” Prudence interrupted, seemingly scandalized at the very notion that Tumberland might have kept Louisa’s secret. “My father was friends with Tumberland’s family. I have it on good authority that he is an upstanding man of high moral character.”
Upstanding man of high moral character? Louisa wrinkled her nose at that unpleasant description.
Prudence sniffed. “There’s no doubt he would have done the right thing—” She fixed Delilah with an insufferable, know-it-all look. “And told Louisa’s parents that she’d been running away.”
“I wasn’t running away!” Louisa had said this multiple times now and no one seemed to understand.
Delilah’s brow drew together. “I still do not understand why you did not just use the front door like any normal person would have done.”
Louisa huffed. “Well, of course you would say that now. It’s clear I should have done so in hindsight, now isn’t it?” She paced the length of the room nervously. “But that knowledge does me no good now, does it? If he’s told my parents that I’ve embarrassed them again, they will never forgive me. My mother is coming here to throttle me, I just know it.”
Addie handed Reggie over to Prudence and then grasped Louisa by the shoulders. “Be strong, Louisa. Even if your mother is here to thrash you, I am positive you will survive.”
Louisa sighed at her friend’s attempt at levity. “I suppose you are right.” Whatever her mother had in store for her was nothing worse than what she deserved. Truth be told, her guilty conscience was acutely aware that she deserved whatever she got.
She turned to leave the cozy, warm confines of the sitting room where the girls liked to gather, and headed instead for the far more formal drawing room where they met their visitors.
Granted, Louisa never had visitors before. At least not for her alone. She tugged on the sleeve of her gown nervously, sneaking one last glimpse of her reflection as she went to join her mother and the others.
“Ah, there you are, dear!” her mother said with a wide, beaming smile when she entered.
Louisa froze in the doorway. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Her mother had never once seemed so very happy to see her. She glanced over at Margaret for some clue as to what was going on but all she got there was a halfhearted smile and a rueful look, as if she too were acknowledging the oddity of their mother’s enthusiasm.
“Come in, Louisa,” Miss Grayson said. As always, the leader of this school was perfectly turned out—every bit the proper lady. All soft-spoken kindness and maternal warmth. All elegance and well thought-out conversations.
Louisa would bet her life that Miss Grayson had never once fallen out of a window.
She stifled a sigh as she took the seat across from her mother. One day she hoped to grow up to be just like Miss Grayson. However, at the age of nineteen, she had to assume she didn’t have that much growing left to do.
This time the sigh escaped, but she did her best to plaster on a smile even as she worriedly waited for her mother to drop the happy routine and pounce on her about her idiocy the other day.
It truly had been stupid of her. To climb out the window was one thing, but to sit there and converse with the man? To laugh at his ridiculous jokes and then…oh heavens…she’d basically begged
the man for a favor.
She’d gone mad, that was all there was for it. She’d temporarily lost her mind. What other explanation could there be? For a brief moment there, she’d forgotten his respectability. She’d even managed to forget the way he’d sold her out after their last encounter.
All she’d seen was the amusement in his eyes and the dry wit in his voice.
For one crazy moment out of time, she’d forgotten he was intended for Margaret, forgotten that he was a high-and-mighty marquess who’d looked at her with abject disdain.
For a brief moment there, she’d thought of him as…a friend.
An ally, perhaps.
Whatever she’d thought in her addled state, she’d been wrong. Clearly. He was the man Margaret was to marry…just so long as she didn’t scare him off first.
“Would you care for some tea, Louisa?” Miss Grayson asked. That was what her mouth said. What her eyes said was, Dear, are you all right?
Louisa blinked rapidly as she came back to the present. “Yes, please. That would be lovely.” She had to assume that what her eyes said was, Not really, but thank you for asking.
Her mother was determined to torture her, that much was clear. She spent a solid ten minutes asking questions about Louisa’s classes, and social engagements, and the day-to-day activities at the school. If she was attempting to kill Louisa by ratcheting up her anxiety, she could not have done a better job of it.
After a quarter of an hour, Louisa’s hands were clutching her teacup so tightly, she very nearly broke the fine china. At last, her mother seemed to run out of questions, and Miss Grayson fell silent as well.
Louisa’s mother gave her a bright smile. “You’ll be pleased to hear we had the most charming visit with Lord Tumberland the other day.”
Louisa was certain her false smile would crack her face in two. “Oh?” she managed.
Here it was.
Her mother had just been too polite to murder her before making small talk. Louisa fought the urge to clench her eyes shut and shout out an excuse—
The School of Charm: Books 1-5 Page 19