Charles

by Leenie Brown

  “This is one of our sitting rooms where interviews take place during the day, and our residents are allowed to take their ease in the evening,” said Mrs. Alford. “We currently have six maids and four footmen in residence in addition to the staff we employ ourselves. We had eight maids and seven footmen, but Miss Barrett has seen several placed successfully recently.”

  “Are you the sole head of this organization?” He asked Evelyn.

  “No, she is not, but she is the most persuasive. The others have their duties, but it is Miss Barrett who tends to see to the hiring process,” Mrs. Alford answered in Evelyn’s stead.

  “That is impressive.” Very impressive. He had not met a lady such as Miss Barrett before. Most debutantes were only concerned about snaring a husband and purchasing the right ballgown to do it. And the ones who had successfully captured said husband and provided the requisite offspring seemed only to be interested in retaining their youth, including its frivolities.

  “Thank you.”

  She was blushing again.

  He would have to remember that compliments were as effective as suggestive tones to turn her cheeks that delicate colour of pink, and compliments were less likely to cause trouble with Mrs. Barrett.

  “This is the second interview room.”

  It looked nearly identical to the first room he had been shown. There were couches and chairs grouped in such a way that three or four interviews could be conducted at a time. “Do you often use both rooms?”

  “No,” Evelyn replied. “But we are prepared for the future.”

  “The future?”

  “Yes, of course, Mr. Edwards. This is not just a momentary passion but an all-consuming one.”

  “But what of when you marry?” Charles asked. She did intend to marry did she not? Was that not why she was drawing that toad, Mr. Marsh, along?

  “I am not incapable of running both my own home and helping in this one. I might have to give up some of my other work, but Eiddwen House shall always be a passion of mine.” She smiled. “I do not intend to marry any gentleman who would forbid it.”

  His lips tipped into a smile. He could see her demanding a promise from some poor sap as he knelt before her presenting his offer. “Mr. Marsh approves, does he?”

  “He does,” she answered without a second’s hesitation.

  Apparently, she and Mr. Marsh were well enough acquainted to have discussed this establishment, and for some reason, that thought bothered him.

  Chapter 6

  Evelyn descended the servant’s stairs behind Mr. Edwards. He had seen the kitchen and then the upper floors. He had appeared genuinely interested in everything Mrs. Alford had said. He had broached questions – intelligent, non-self-indulgent or worse, provoking, questions.

  A tiny amount of excitement bubbled up inside of her. Mr. Edwards was capable of thinking beyond himself. She had just witnessed it, and if he were capable of that, then he was capable of finding his sails and setting his life on some course instead of just drifting about. How she loved this feeling of seeing another human being bettering himself or his circumstances!

  “Thank you, Mrs. Alford,” she said as they entered the main reception room once again, “I shall not detain you any longer from your duties.”

  The elder woman gave Charles an appraising look. “Shall I have Gibbs return?”

  “Please do. I would not want anyone to be able to say something improper happened.” Evelyn tucked herself into her chair.

  “I promise not to accost you.” Charles took a seat across from her and casually tossing one leg over the other as he assumed a relaxed position.

  He seemed to excel at appearing devil-may-care. Perhaps it was just part of who he was. There were people she had met who were just naturally complacent. He might be one of those.

  “Now that you have seen our establishment, what are your thoughts?”

  He shrugged but not in a put-you-off sort fashion. It was more of an admission that he was not entirely sure how to respond. “I will admit that you and the other ladies who are part of your group have done an admirable job arranging everything. There is very little I could do to help.”

  “That is not true,” Evelyn interrupted. “You might hear of placements for our men more easily than I would. I might hear of a need for a footman, but I rarely hear about openings for valets or groomsmen. If we could find such potential jobs on a more regular basis, it might help us extend our services. We do very well with finding a variety of places for the women, but for the men, there are few options beyond footman.” She drew a breath. “Although I have recently come across a fine source who assures me that should she hear of any needs in the trades, she will contact me.”

  “You are not dedicated only to filling servant positions?”

  She shook her head. “No, we are dedicated to finding employment – good, steady employment that allows our residents to establish themselves as a benefit to our society.”

  A look of utter confusion suffused his face as he shook his head. “You are most unusual.”

  “Am I?” She knew very well of what he spoke, but she was not about to pass up the opportunity to hear him say it.

  “You know you are.” A smirk tipped his lips. “Most ladies of your age and standing have only two things on their mind – marriage and shopping.”

  “Oh, that is not true! They also spend a great deal of time thinking about balls and soirees as well as calls and gossiping.”

  He chuckled. “You are very hard on your gender.”

  Evelyn leaned back in her chair. When he was not teasing and flirting, Mr. Edwards was an enjoyable conversation partner, for she did not care if she misspoke to him. He was not a viable option for a match; therefore, she could be as direct with him as she was with her father or Constance.

  “I prefer to think of it as being honest. Soirees and shopping are delightful. Calls are entertaining, and gossip, while wrong, can be tantalizing. I do not think it a harsh thing to say that my gender is as interested in amusement as your gender is, Mr. Edwards. We just find our pleasure in different ways.” Her eyes narrowed at his lazy smile. “I am not speaking of that. It is most improper to even hint at that.”

  “I am certain I do not know your meaning.”

  He was lying. She could tell by how his smile grew, and his eyes lit with amusement.

  “You did not list marriage in your speech on the pleasures that your gender enjoys,” he continued.

  “That is because it is not a pleasure.”

  His eyebrows rose, and his eyes grew wide.

  “It is a necessity, Mr. Edwards. How else is a female to be kept? She is completely at the mercy of some gentleman, be it her father or her husband. Providing for one’s future in such a way is not so much a pleasure as a duty.”

  “You do not intend to find pleasure in marriage? Keeping one’s own home and children do not seem a pleasure to you?” His tone was one of utter surprise. “I have often heard it said that they are.”

  She leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk. “How do you view marriage, Mr. Edwards?”

  He shook his head. “No, you may not answer a question with one of your own.”

  “And yet, I did,” she replied with a smile. “However, I will admit to wishing to marry so that I might have my own home instead of being part of my mother’s. I will also admit that I adore children and hope to have several, but it is all a responsibility. And while marriage inherently comes with certain happiness and gratification, it is not the same as the pleasure of a season. I may not be explaining it clearly, but there is a difference. Marriage is a serious business which requires far more sobriety than selecting a pair of slippers or learning the steps to a country dance.”

  His head tipped to the side as he nodded. “I think I can see your meaning. Marriage is an end to frivolity.”

  “Not an end,” she said softly, “but a shifting. I think that it is possible for a couple to find great happiness and felicity in marriage – enough t
o satisfy them, despite what we may see demonstrated around us. Constance shall have such a marriage. As do my parents. What of your parents, Mr. Edwards? Were they happy? Do you still have parents? I fear I know very little about you.”

  “Both my parents are alive,” he answered with a smile. “And I believe they were – are – happy. I have never seen anything to suggest something different.” He shrugged. “I suppose I have always hoped for the same when the time comes.”

  “There is no better way to prepare for the responsibilities of the future than to take on projects that require you to see to the betterment of another’s life, just as you will be doing when you have a wife and children.”

  He laughed. It was a wonderful, infectious sound of delight, and Evelyn could not help but smile at the sound.

  “You are a cunning and persuasive lady. I will notify you if I hear of any positions in need of filling.”

  She held up a finger. “Only if the employer has a good reputation of being fair and kind. I do not wish to send my men and women out to work only to have them return.”

  He nodded. “Of course. All my recommendations will be upstanding.”

  She stood to indicate that their interview was at an end. “I must say, Mr. Edwards, I am surprised that I can honestly say this has been a most enjoyable meeting.”

  “You did not expect it to be?”

  She shook her head. “No, I expected you to be far less serious and a great deal more annoying.”

  “You speak very directly,” he muttered.

  “Not to everyone,” she replied with a smile.

  “So, I am special then?”

  His sly smirk was back, and she shook her head. “I guess you are. However, I would advise you that being special in such a fashion is not necessarily something to seek.”

  “Whatever you must tell yourself.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And you are back to being exasperating.”

  He chuckled and extended his hand. She lifted a brow in question but placed her hand in his.

  “Thank you for your time, Miss Barrett. If there are other charities which might be as interesting as this one, do let me know.” He bowed over her hand without placing a kiss on it, which surprised her.

  “Do you read well? And can you attempt to be a good example of gentlemanliness?” There was another place she knew of that he might find as interesting as Eiddwen House.

  “I read well, but I am not certain I can be a good example.”

  “Do you like children?”

  He nodded. “For the most part I find them tolerable.”

  Her lips pursed as she thought. He did not pretend to be what he was not. “Mrs. Verity would not be opposed to having you volunteer to read to her children, or if you have some skill which could be taught…” She shook her head.

  “You think I cannot improve the lives of children?”

  “I fear what you will teach them,” she replied honestly. The world did not need more young men who were skilled at wooing a lady without any intention of offering for her. Not even if they were tall and muscular with captivating dark eyes.

  “Mrs. Verity’s? That is the place where I met you before our night at the theatre, is it not?”

  She nodded. “Mrs. Verity is very demanding and not one to be charmed.”

  He scowled. “I am beginning to understand why being special to you is not a good thing. It is quite damaging to one’s pride. However, I will take that criticism as a compliment to my charming personality rather than assuming you mean I am a scoundrel.”

  “Whatever you must tell yourself,” she replied with a laugh which was met by his infectious laugh. She now understood how Mr. Crawford and Mr. Linton could be friends with him. He was actually a very pleasant fellow.

  He moved toward the door but stopped and turned back. “I should thank you for one other thing.”

  Her brows pulled together in question. For what else besides the tour did he have to thank her?

  “I discovered this morning that my valet found his way to my employ thanks to information he heard from someone here. He is very good at his job.” He waved a hand down his person. “As you can see.”

  She bit back a grin. She had unintentionally bettered his life already and was set to help him improve even further. “I am happy to hear that. He does seem to have some skill at presenting a gentleman to best advantage.”

  “He will be delighted to hear your praise, for he seems to think very highly of you.”

  “It is a natural consequence of treating someone well, Mr. Edwards,” she replied, “nothing more.”

  He shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No, there is more to it than that. It is your kindness. It is not your actions, but your very being which demands one think highly of you.” He shrugged as if he, himself, did not fully understand what he was saying. “Again, I thank you for your time in showing me Eiddwen House.” He bowed and was gone.

  She stared at the place where he had been. Did he mean he thought highly of her? She shook her head. No, that was foolish. He only spoke charming words to sway her to whatever nefarious scheme he was plotting. She moved behind her desk and began straightening up the papers which were there. She had no other meetings until tomorrow, so she could now meet Constance for tea. She tapped a stack of papers on the desk to straighten them but paused as she once again looked toward the door. The thought of having Mr. Edwards think highly of her was actually rather agreeable, and a small part of her heart wished that he was being truthful and not just scheming, for he would make a lovely friend — not that her mother would ever approve of such a friendship. She chuckled and placed her papers on the desk before gathering her pelisse and reticule and departing.

  Chapter 7

  Charles flopped into a chair next to a table laid out for tea in Henry’s sitting room. “I am surprised to find you at home.”

  “Connie is having tea with Evelyn,” Henry replied.

  “At Linton’s?” He should have gone to visit Trefor instead of Henry.

  “Yes. Why?”

  Charles shrugged. “I am just a curious creature.”

  Henry’s replying look was not one of a man convinced that there was no other reason for Charles’s inquiry.

  “I am actually surprised to see you so early in the day. Are you not usually just pulling yourself out of bed by now?” The skepticism in Henry’s features shone through in his tone.

  Again, Charles shrugged. “I retired early last night, and I had an appointment today.”

  Henry placed his cup of tea on the table next to him and reached for a cake. “You retired early? I thought you left the ball last night on your way to our club.”

  “I did,” Charles replied over his cup. “But since I was meeting Miss Barrett at eleven, I stumbled home early.” He took a long sip of his tea while Henry studied him.

  “You are not –”

  “A kiss is all I wish,” Charles interrupted, replacing his cup on its saucer.

  Henry shook his head. “That is an excessively poor idea.”

  Charles broke off a piece of biscuit and popped it into his mouth. “You and my valet seem to agree on that. Finley seems to think I am incapable of plucking a kiss without damaging a heart.”

  “You are incapable,” Henry muttered. “Have you considered the consequences of damaging Miss Barrett’s heart?”

  “There will be no damage.” He would steal a kiss, likely earn a slap for the pleasure, and that would be that.

  “Humour me,” Henry replied. “Mrs. Barrett has warned you away from her daughter. I do not know what she is capable of should you not comply, but you must admit she is rather fearful.”

  Charles could not deny that fact.

  “And she is not the only one you should fear. Miss Barrett is Constance’s particular friend, and as such, she becomes important to both me and Linton. You are already wearing the results of an implied indiscretion.”

  Charles shook his head. “That does make my scheme more challengi
ng.”

  “It makes it one you should avoid,” Henry growled.

  “You are getting as good at that as Linton,” Charles replied with a laugh. “Surely, you can remember back to when we were both scoundrels.” A shadow passed across Henry’s face, causing Charles to think it would have been better if he had not mentioned that part.

  “I remember the results,” Henry muttered.

  Charles applied himself to his tea. He had no desire to receive a lecture, and since Henry had become an upstanding sort of gentleman, the threat of lecture from him was almost as great as the threat of receiving one from Linton about his behavior.

  Chewing a piece of biscuit slowly, Charles considered how his friend had changed and how contented he appeared. Henry had always shifted from one thing or lady to another. There was always another game to be played, a scheme to be put in motion. That was who Henry was, and what he was expected to be.

  Charles’s brows furrowed.

  “You look pensive. Should I be worried?” Henry’s tone was light and teasing.

  “Perhaps,” Charles replied with a chuckle. “What do you expect of me?”

  The question obviously took Henry by surprise from the way his eyes grew wide, and his eyebrows flew to his hairline. “I… I… I am not certain I have expected anything in particular from you other than…” he shrugged, “that you would be my friend and stand by me in whatever scheme in which I found myself. Even my current scheme to be a gentleman worthy of Miss Linton.”

  Charles nodded. He had always valued the friendship he found with Henry and Trefor. However, Trefor Linton had not always supported the schemes in which Henry and Charles found themselves. “Linton has always told me I am capable of being more than the dashed charming cad I am.”

  “He almost always thought me capable of the same until I sought help from his sister,” Henry replied. “Then, he doubted.”

  Charles lifted his cup and swallowed the last of the tea it contained. “But Constance never did, did she?”

  Henry shook his head. “Not even when I almost kissed her in the library when she gave me that blasted list.”