The Rake and The Rose (A Rake's Mistake)

by Amelia Clearwater

  Everyone was quite past the stage of tipsy, Charlotte got up after they all had decided to go to bed. Alexander, no worse for ware watched how with great ease she walked, but her body was loosened, less rigid. He liked that.

  "Here, let me help." He got her arm in the crook of his again and they walked to her bedroom. She turned, her hair tumbling slightly out from the ribbon and he rubbed a curl between his fingers. When he caught a glint of gold he saw the ribbon about her neck. "Hm, that won't do." He untied the ribbon quickly, and felt her body shiver at the touch.

  Charlotte glanced at him confused "Alexander?"

  "Here" he fished her locket out of his coat pocket and fastened it about her throat, he had gotten the latch fixed after Giselle had snatched it off, when she had arrived. It settled just below the swell of her breasts, his hands softly traveled and he touched the locket, her breathing hitched slightly and it caused the locket to be pressed against his fingertips. In a quick movement he lifted the locket and kissed it, his mouth precariously close to her collar.

  "It belongs on you, I will ask for it when I find any leads."

  "Alright…" she whispered brokenly. He turned away "My Lord?"

  "Yes?"

  "Thank you." Her breath quickened slightly and he found himself walking closer, until they were but a breath away.

  "You are very welcome, Charlotte." She felt the words like warmed honey dripping onto skin. It was sticky and inviting, it stuck to her and her heart, and she then really did wish he had been serious with all his fairy talk.

  But he more than likely was not.

  CHAPTER 05

  Charlotte noticed Alexander had become very belligerent again, and it boiled her blood. She had just come out of his office being told to stop nagging at him like a shrew over small things and he had promptly tossed her out, shutting and locking the door! But not before telling her that she should stick to staying to her rooms!

  Charlotte was enraged even more as she leaned against the door to his study. “How dare he try to tell me what to do!” she flustered about and stomped down the hall. “I should make him pay for that.” She mused, “I don’t know how…but somehow.”

  She then realized how he looked at her was an interesting manner. She knew her body registered it but her experience did not. Charlotte wanted to see if that demeanor would snap, and what that emotion he held back was.

  “Let the games begin my Lord.” She grinned as she went down to the kitchens.

  While she ate her lunch of soup and bread, she sputtered her anger to the staff that all laughed and gave knowing glances at each other.

  “I think he has an eye for you Charlotte.” Laura was giggling into her bowl.

  “An eye for me?” she gulped and looked confused “What do you mean?”

  “He likes you.” Mary explained.

  “Me? I doubt it.” She nibbled on another piece of bread. Francesca seemed to be thinking, tapping her spoon.

  “Well, he has been asking that you handle the Ladies and he on their outings.”

  “Wait, what!” she nearly spit out her water.

  Francesca started “Oh, I thought you knew!”

  “No! That bastard!”

  All the staff cracked up as she fumed “Like me, ha! Have me watch as he parades around like some show pony with a Lady of breed?” she growled as she bit deep into her bread “Ah, I think naught!” Her mouth full she affirmed it with a nod.

  Francesca gave Mary and Laura a glance “This will be interesting, girls.”

  And so it was. The game of wits that came from Charlotte with everything she had. If Charlotte was not scrubbing floors or avoiding The Dragon at all costs, she was shining silverware. If he came into view, she moved herself to look dainty and ladylike, and reveled when it caught his eye, shifting this way and that to provoke.

  At one point she had to wear one of Mary's dresses, who was much wider in the shoulders than she, her vigorous scrubbing of the floors when Alexander had walked by had caused the sleeve to slide inappropriately lower than needed. His eyes had widened, then narrowed and dilated where all she saw was black. He had deliberately walked over, leaned down and brushing his fingers across her skin, placed the sleeve back to where it belonged.

  Alexander had walked away quickly. The little bewitching girl was up to something, and it had nothing to do with verbal speech. It was her body language. With every turn, every step and every glance, those dark eyes sent his way were caught on a frequency neither of them understood. Alexander felt her in the room like a drug and he wondered if this was how laudanum addicts felt. The desperate need for just one more sight, just one more touch. That was all he really wanted.

  At least that was what he kept telling himself. She didn't have to try. It was simply her existing, and he very well couldn't blame her for that. The fire lit hair that coiled and bounced with her motions, or the sway of her slim hips that caused fabric to billow about her long legs. Alexander nearly banged his head against his desk in frustration. He was no longer able to think straight, and it was the little fairy's fault.

  When Charlotte's scheming was not being done, she was at the whim of every Lady present. She found that there were some that she enjoyed being around and walking with.

  Lady Jessica Carlisle had a sweet disposition, and her love of song and jokes made Charlotte laugh and join in. Lady Deirdre was rather rude and cold; she did not like conversation and was incredibly vain. Lady Deirdre always spoke of what she would tear down in the estate when she was made Lady Cromwell. It made Charlotte’s blood boil, since the staff worked so hard keeping things as Alexander liked it.

  Lady Anne Essex’s likes and dislikes were vast in terms of food. She hated bread that was not soft, so the crust needed to be trimmed due to her delicate teeth. The meat must be served hot or not at all. And all things sweet were welcome. Above all, if anyone loved Charlotte more, it was Lady Anne. “I cannot help but feel we have met…” Charlotte wouldn’t know if it bit her on the nose, they might have in her other life, but she had no memory of it.

  When she was not at the beck and call of the Ladies, she was amusing them and Alexander, fetching a badminton racket, or perhaps bringing ice from the icehouse for sweet black tea. Alexander swore that this delicacy was from the South of the place called The Americas. Alexander’s friend Kade had made a rather large investment there in someplace called South Carolina, selling tea from India and bringing back tobacco, cotton and indigo.

  But she always did sneak a glass, when offered by Lady Anne, who had wriggled out of her that she loved the drink, and would ask for it when Alexander was not around, just to sit with her under the willow tree in the gardens and chat. The way they chilled drinks was fun to do, a bowl was filled with ice chips- ones she had to bludgeon from the large block of ice in the house and the pitcher was placed in till it was cold. - it was especially helpful if Lord Cromwell had agitated her that day. In summer one would bring drinks down to the icehouse and leave it there for an hour or so, till a thin sheen of slush formed on top of the liquid.

  Charlotte hated going down into the icehouse. It was dreadfully cold. The room consisted of a ladder that led into the large round, deep, stone cellar. The ice was collected during winter from a nearby pond. After cleaning, it was lowered into the deep, underground chamber, where it was insulated with hay or straw and stored. Charlotte was always afraid she’d be locked down there, and one time nearly scared herself witless when the door swung as someone bustled out of the root cellar next to it and closed her in.

  Thankfully, James had been walking by and opened the door, to which she gratefully after climbing the ladder, flung her arms about him and hugged him. He chuckled and patted her head like a child and sent her on her way with her bucket of chipped ice.

  Charlotte found that she was rather good at cooking too! She was able to make dishes and loathed that she had to bring them to Alexander, but she also found it amusing. She put a sway in her walk as she saw the Ladies sometimes would do
as they'd walk away from him, and found a natural gait that when she caught her own eye in a mirror. Charlotte realized she looked sultry and elegant despite her clothing. She wore a soft white dress and she gathered the tray of biscuits and beef stew for Alexander and walked up to his study.

  "Come in." Alexander was irritated beyond measure; his neck had a crick in it from tossing and turning in turmoil deep in his sleep.

  "My Lord?" the whisper hit his ears like a gong and he looked up to see the object of his turmoil standing at his door.

  "Come in, set it down over here." he tapped the right side of his desk and in reality cursed himself, as he simply wanted to get a better look at her. She walked like a dancer, her feet lightly moving, her neck held high. No. She walked like a Lady. It startled him, and soon she was at his side setting the tray down, but not before giving him a side look as she had leaned over his desk her hand brushing his arm 'accidently' as she drew away.

  "Sorry my Lord." she whispered and backed away. "Is there anything else my Lord needs?"

  My lord…your Lord needs something all right…Hm; I'd like you to call me that in another manner. He thought with his teeth grit.

  "No, Charlotte that will be all."

  "Yes, my Lord." she curtsied gracefully and floated out without so much as a look back at him, her copper hair tantalizingly flowing around her shoulders from where the curls attempted a mutinous escaped.

  Charlotte chuckled as she closed the door; she had no idea what she was doing. But he was flustered, and she liked it. Perhaps she liked it a bit too much.

  On a particularly irritating day, Lady Deirdre was playing badminton with Alexander, as the rest of the Ladies lounged with family and she sat quietly to the side. Charlotte hated watching, because she was always drawn to how easy Alexander moved. The grace of his form left her entire body on fire. She had no idea what her body was doing, but she shifted in her chair, leaning ever so slightly, acting as if to get a better look of the event, but really just to get a better look at him. She saw the green gaze dart over to her and she smiled softly.

  Her hair had constantly been caught in the combs that kept it neat, to the point she felt her neck stiffen from the constant pressure on her scalp. She softly groaned and rolled her head, in attempt to ease the pain. Lady Anne smiled at her. “Here let me!”

  “Oh, no wait!” but her hair was already tumbling down her back, the spirals sprang to life, in revenge for being tied down.

  Lady Anne exclaimed and touched a curl “Mama, look at the color it’s like a fox!” The Duchess of Essex looked at her with a smile. “I once knew a girl with hair red like yours. She was a friend of the family.”

  Both of Lady Anne’s parents were warm and friendly, she felt a bit more comfortable. “Thank you…”

  She realized that Alexander no longer paid any attention to her or the others and felt a stab of some unknown emotion in her belly. Lady Anne's parents had stared at her strangely, and she gulped as an ominous feeling leaked into her being.

  “Shall we walk Miss Charlotte?” Lady Anne offered a friendly arm and raised a parasol to shade her and her new friend. Charlotte was stunned as they took a turn about the garden.

  “Lady Anne?” she asked softly

  “Yes, Charlotte?”

  “We are friends, yes?” she was timid in her question.

  “OH! Of course! Good friends, I’ve never really had many friends…” Lady Anne blushed demurely; Charlotte rather liked the innocence of the girl and she couldn't be more than sixteen.

  “May I confide in you?”

  “Of course what?” she lowered her voice to a whisper as well.

  “Well I am rather confused about Lord Cromwell, I think he has taken a dislike to me.”

  Lady Anne swatted her playfully with her fan, "Nonsense! Have you seen the looks he sends your way? Oh well, he is very stealthy with them, so you obviously don't see them. Do not fret Charlotte. I would not be too pleased with anyone, if I had to deal with that woman." Obviously she meant Lady Deirdre and they both broke into peals of laughter.

  “OH!” The startled cry came from Anne as a white cat had sprung from the bushes and darted over the grass.

  “Oh look a kitty!” Charlotte stared and realized it was streaked with blood on its leg. “It’s hurt! Oh, the poor dear...”

  Soon though the entire garden knew of the animal and the Ladies shrieked as if it were a rat, not a poor helpless animal. The small ball of fluff spit and hissed. It couldn’t be more than a kitten by the looks of it, with a short but fluffy tail that wiggled like a rabbit.

  Alexander walked over and stared down at it and reached “I’ll take care of the…nuisance. Just toss it back on the road where I’m sure it came from…” The look on his face showed distaste.

  “Alexander Cromwell!” she was on him faster than a fly on a horse. She stalked to him and his eyes were wide in shock “Do not dare harm a hair on that baby’s head! Or I shall never speak to you again!” she fumed. She had a feeling that Anne was looking at her in shock, as was everyone.

  “Baby? This little scrap of nothing?” Charlotte in a quick second swooped the kitten up from his grasp, who hissed and spit at her. She took her apron off in one smooth movement had it wrapped up; it’s claws rendered useless.

  “Oh, there, there little one. Come, let’s get you some food and some water yes?” She cooed at it and walked away from Alexander.

  Everyone stared, and Lady Anne looked to be laughing behind her fan. “You will not keep that animal.” The low voice said behind her.

  “And why not?” she challenged turning, keeping the tiny kitten pressed to her bosom. “It’s hurt.”

  Alexander could not even believe his ears. “I don’t give a damn if it’s half dead! I said no.”

  Charlotte’s expression seemed to change “Why not?” he couldn't quite read it, but it looked as though something was brewing.

  “I don’t keep pets and I don’t take in strays."

  “Well…it’s a wonder I even made it in isn’t it?” The cold tone took him aback. The girl had all but been enticing him with her body language, she may not have seen him notice but by God who wouldn’t! And now she was enraged at him for a scrap of fur?

  “Yes because everyone knows you’re a pet.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone.

  “I beg your pardon.” It was not a question of what he had said it was a chance to change it, the black eyes told him so.

  When he reached for her she danced gracefully a step back and the sunlight hit her full on. Alexander could have kicked himself, her hair lit up like a halo of fire. The kitten whimpered against her “Sh, don’t worry I won’t let him get you, precious. That’s it! Precious.” She kissed the now tame kitten on the nose and it mewled at her, the yellow eyes staring at him.

  “I’ll be damned if you keep a cat in my mother’s rooms.” There that would fix her!

  “Fine then I guess I will just have to finally move in with the other servants. Since I am no longer incapacitated.”

  Damn her! “You will not till I sort your mess out!” he growled softly. Though the others were further off, they watched with curious gazes. Lady Deirdre looked as if she wanted to scorch Charlotte.

  He was thinking of doing it himself, over his knee for her refusal.

  “Then we are at an impasse.” She mused her black eyes regarding him cool and easy.

  “No, Charlotte we are not. You will do as I say and that is the end of it! Because…because…”

  “Because I owe you.” She asked, and he wanted to kick himself for walking into that one.

  “Charlotte, you know that is not what I mean, please do not be so difficult.”

  “You are asking me to let a tiny creature who cannot take care of itself be left alone with an injured leg to die…”

  “Yes…ugh…such, is nature.” He said unable to think of anything else.

  “Then you should have left me on your lawn. For I am no more deserving and far less innocent, as all hu
mans are.” With that said she held her head high and left. Leaving the Lord Cromwell to contemplate her words.

  Alexander exhaled about to pull his hair out watching the woman's stiffened back walk away. She was acting like a child!

  With the spring days flying by on a breeze, Alexander had gone about his usual day's work. Lady Deirdre had become an absolute thorn in his side, the constant flickered gazes, always dropping something near him. He felt rather like an unwilling horse forced to jump through show hoops for her amusement.

  The idea did not suit his personality well. Not seeing Charlotte for nearly a week or so also caused him to be on edge- where the devil was that girl anyway? Not that I care...but she's supposed to be working. He mentally amended despite how false it was.