by Dawn Brower
Collin hoped to find love like that someday. He wanted that kind of intimate relationship with his future wife. First he had to get his home in order. He had an idea who he’d like to make his countess. Once he believed he could court her properly, he would. He’d promised the villagers they could have their May Day celebration on his property as they used to. It was the other reason he wanted the ballroom finalized. They did not need to use the upper rooms for anything, but the kitchens would be ready for food preparation and the ballroom could be used for any other festivities they may need to hold. He couldn’t recall everything they did each year. It had been a while since he’d attended a proper May Day celebration.
“Milord,” a man said as he came to stand beside him. Mr. Robbins lifted his hand and wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. “We have an issue that needs addressing. It’s one of the ovens.”
“The ovens?” he frowned. They were some of the few items in the kitchen they had deemed salvageable. Each one had been scrubbed and repaired where necessary.
“Yes, milord,” he frowned. “The new cook tried to use one, and well…”
“Tell me,” Collin said and then let out a long, suffering, sigh. “It’s best to get it over with.”
“There was a wee explosion.” He held up his hand when Collin opened his mouth to interrupt him. “No one was injured, but I’m afraid that oven is irreparable. You’ll need to order one immediately if you wish to have it in time for May Day.”
Collin cursed under his breath. Something was bound to go wrong. Everything else had been going smoothly since the workers started. The contractor had hired many of the villagers to assist with the repairs, and it had helped to make it all go faster. If it continued to go as planned, the house would be done by the end of summer. That was still months of work, but at least he was starting to see his childhood home return to its former glory.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll walk into town and post a letter immediately.” He’d have the Earl of Shelby handle the order. His sister’s husband wouldn’t take no for an answer. He could be a bit domineering at times, and it was that type of attitude Collin needed. “I’ll need to stop at the cottage first. Continue with the repairs you’re working on today. If there is anything else, send someone to find me in town.”
“Yes, milord,” Mr. Robbins said. “Before you go…”
He was almost afraid to ask. “What is it?”
“About the ballroom,” he began. “The wallpaper you wanted isn’t going to work. We will need to choose a different type. The supplier doesn’t have enough made to paper the entire room.”
Collin closed his eyes and reminded himself to breathe. “All right. Is our second choice available.”
“Afraid not,” he said, regret evident in his voice. “The Duchess of Whitewood ordered it all for the house her husband is having built for her in London.”
He pressed his lips together tightly. That name seemed familiar to him. He wasn’t that acquainted with the Duke and Duchess of Whitewood. He’d met them once. Collin recalled suddenly why the names were important, or rather whom they were significant to. “I have an idea. We will discuss the wallpaper when I return.”
“Very well,” Mr. Robbins said and nodded his head. “Good luck, milord.”
Collin nodded then spun on his heels to return to the cottage. Once there, he sat at his writing desk and penned a quick missive to Gregory, the Earl of Shelby, asking for his assistance. He added an invitation for Kaitlin and him to visit for the May Day celebration. It would help to have Gregory’s opinion on the state of the repairs. Collin would ask Uncle Charles, but feared he was too ill to travel. After he finished the letter, he pressed wax over it with his signet ring, then placed it in his interior pocket and left the cottage to post it. The sooner it was sent through the Royal Mail the better.
He walked into town instead of riding. Collin enjoyed the exercise. It gave him time to think and consider all of his options for the rebuild of his estate. The solitariness of it was almost comforting. It didn’t take him long, or it seemed as if it didn’t, to arrive in town. When he entered the building to post his letter, he nearly bumped into Lady Charlotte. It was quite serendipitous. He had been hoping to cross paths with her, and fate led them toward each other.
“Lord Frossly,” she said, a little out of breath. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“You are?” He lifted a brow. Collin’s curiosity was piqued. “Why?”
“I wished to discuss an aspect of May Day with you. Do you have time?”
He tilted his head to the side. She was so beautiful and vibrant. Whenever she was near, his heart beat heavily in his chest and he wanted to move closer to her. Something about her made him feel…more. He didn’t want to name exactly what that feeling was yet. “If you’ll give me a moment to post my letter, I’m all yours.” That hadn’t sounded quite right… “I mean I’ll have time to spare you.” There was something he wished to discuss with her as well.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I’ll wait here for you to finish.”
He nodded and went inside. It didn’t take long to finish his business, and then he returned to her side. “Now, what is it you desired of me?” Her cheeks pinkened a little. Collin was blundering with his words, but he wouldn’t make any more excuses. He liked the blush on her; it made her even lovelier.
“I am not certain you are aware…” She glanced away. Since when was she shy? “That is…” Charlotte swallowed. “May first is Aunt Seraphina’s birthday. She says she doesn’t wish to celebrate, but it is a milestone birthday. I’d like to do something for her.”
“What is it you would like to do?” He was not certain what his role would be in this endeavor, but he liked the idea of helping her.
“The main celebrations, the Maypole dance, and banquet will be held on your estate. I realize you are in the midst of repairs but will any part of the house be useable by then?”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes,” he replied slowly. “Though most of it is the servants quarters. Very few of the main rooms are completed.”
Charlotte frowned. “Walk with me. I think better when I’m active.” She started to move before he could agree. He fell into step beside her. She began talking again. “What main rooms are finalized?”
“None at present,” he answered honestly. “Though the salon and library should be finished tomorrow. The only main area fully completed is the foyer, but it’s not really a room that is utilized for anything.”
She nodded. “No, it isn’t.” Charlotte nibbled on her lip, and he was momentarily transfixed. She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip, and he almost groaned. “What of the ballroom?”
He shook his head away from his lustful thoughts. She didn’t need to know he was imagining kissing her, tasting her, and touching her more in every way possible. “The repairs are scheduled for that room next. We ran into a bit of a problem. You might be able to help with it if you’re willing.”
“Oh?” She stopped and glanced at him. “How could I possibly assist with repairs on a ballroom?”
“Tell me what you hope to do?” He wanted all the information he could gather first.
“A ball of course, or a more formal sort of dance.” She smiled. “With a large birthday cake and champagne to toast my aunt’s sixtieth year.”
“That might be doable if we finish in time,” he said. He’d love to be able to dance with her.
“Now, how may I aid you?”
He tilted his lips upward. This was going far easier than he could have anticipated. “It may be for nothing.”
“Tell me,” she demanded. She was gorgeous, and he wanted to kiss her even more than before.
“Your cousin,” he began. “The Duchess of Whitewood.”
“Elizabeth?” She stared at him, puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
“As I said, it may be too late,” he told her. “She ordered all the wallpaper we wanted for the ballroom. If you can convince her to part with it…I�
�ll reimburse her, of course…we might be able to finish in time.”
“Say no more,” she answered. “I’ll contact her immediately. Luckily, they are nearby, and it shouldn’t take long for her to reply. I’ll call upon you once she replies.”
He nodded. “Wonderful.”
They began to stroll again, this time in silence. He liked that about her. They didn’t have to carry a conversation. It was enough that they had companionship. When they reached her aunt’s cottage, she waved and went inside, and he continued on toward his home. Maybe everything had happened for a reason. It had given him another encounter with the lovely Lady Charlotte, and for that he couldn’t help but be grateful for. Now he had to ensure the ballroom was finished in time. He would hate to disappoint her.
Chapter 7
Charlotte stared at her journal. Writing had been going well. Had. The last couple of days she hadn’t managed a sentence. Her mind kept wandering to the Earl of Frossly. She was attracted to him but wished she could erase him from her thoughts. He was a distraction she could not afford. Why did she have to meet him now? She had a goal, and his presence made it impossible to meet it.
She sighed in defeat.
Perhaps it was time to set her writing aside, at least within the privacy of her bedchamber. Nothing inspired her inside, and she may need something more…uplifting to assist her. She stood and went to grab a satchel, then placed her journal and pencil inside of it. She looped the long strap over her shoulder and left the room. She hopped down the stairs and exited the cottage. A walk might help stir her imagination. At the very least, it would give her some much-needed exercise.
She didn’t know where she intended to go. Sometimes having no particular place in mind resulted in the best outings. Spontaneity often helped incite her creativity. Charlotte wandered over the fields near her aunt’s cottage until she reached the pond she’d had her picnic at a couple of weeks ago.
A picnic she’d shared with Lord Frossly…
Again, her thoughts wandered to him. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Charlotte took a deep breath and shook her head. When she was done, she moved closer to the pond. Once she reached the edge, she rubbed her hands over her arms. Tiny bumps had formed across them as a cool breeze blew over her. She should have worn her spencer when she left the cottage, but she hadn’t considered it might be chilly.
She didn’t want to return to retrieve it. At least not yet… Charlotte didn’t want to waste her time away. It wasn’t that cold. She could settle somewhere near the pond. If she couldn’t write, she might at least be able to sketch. Any outlet of creativity would be beneficial to her. She didn’t have a blanket or a picnic basket this time. Sitting on the ground might ruin her skirts. The question was: Did she really care?
There was a nice tree on the other side of the pond. It had high branches, and the leaves were almost fully grown to fill out its branches. At the end of April, life had started to sprout again, and everything had turned a vibrant green. The sogginess from the melted snow had left the ground earlier in the month, which made her picnic more feasible. She might be colder under the tree, but she could lean against it as if it were a comfortable chair.
With her destination decided, she made her way around the pond until she reached the large tree. She settled against it and then pulled her notebook and pencil out of her satchel. Opening it to a blank page, she started to sketch. The pond would be her muse and she would bring it to life in her book. Maybe she could include it in her novel as an illustration.
She was so involved in her drawing the world around her nearly disappeared. All she saw when she looked up was the tranquility of the pond. A couple swans swam across the dark blue water. She added them to the paper. From the way they moved together, Charlotte wondered if they were a mated pair. They seemed almost inseparable.
“They’re lovely, aren’t they?”
Startled, Charlotte jolted forward, causing her journal and pencil to fly forward and hit the ground in front of her. She lifted her hand to her chest in an effort to calm her heavily beating heart.
“My apologies,” Lord Frossly said. He leaned down and retrieved her items and then presented them to her. “I didn’t mean to shock you.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took her belongings from him. Charlotte placed them in her satchel. She was too shaky to finish her drawing, and he would prove too much of a distraction. Later, she could finish it from memory. She had most of the outline done. She had to finish some of the fine details though. “How is the progress of your estate?”
“It’s going well.” He lifted his lips into a warm inviting smile. She was momentarily mesmerized by it. “I should be the one thanking you. The Duchess of Whitewood had the wallpaper delivered. It arrived this morning, and tomorrow the workers will begin to apply it to the walls. Everything else is done. Even the new chandelier has been hung in the center of the re-plastered ceiling. The contractor went with full embellishments. The ballroom has detailed borders, excessive corner treatments, and a center rosette. The whole back wall has a freehand painting and along the edge, stenciled decorations. It took a long time for the artist to complete it. All right it took a week, but it seemed to take forever.” He stopped a moment and took a breath. “The paper will be applied in the rest of the areas.”
“You are welcome,” she said. That had been quite a lot of detail. She held back a smile because she didn’t want to laugh at him. He’d rambled so much. Perhaps she made him a bit nervous. “I cannot wait to see it when its finished.”
“It will be ready for the ball,” he told her. “I’ve had the staff working as much as they can to finalize it all. I hope it meets all of your expectations.”
“A long as we can dance, everyone will be happy.” She shivered. While she’d sketched, she hadn’t noticed the cold. Now that her mind was no longer preoccupied, it made its presence known. Her teeth chattered a little. Drat. She’d have to return to the cottage now.
Collin slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around her. “I should have noticed you were freezing.” He didn’t chastise her for staying out without proper attire. He had a feeling she’d lambaste him for daring to dictate anything to her. “I hope my jacket helps a little.”
She snuggled into the warmth it provided and sighed. His heart nearly burst with pleasure. He had helped her achieve that comfort. There was a sense of pride in that. What was it about this woman that made him want to protect her and make sure nothing ever harmed her? Lady Charlotte glanced up at him. “I feel as if we keep thanking each other. I appreciate the gesture.” She patted the coat with her hand. “I foolishly left without my spencer. It’s such a nice day that I didn’t anticipate becoming cold.”
“Think nothing of it,” he told her. “I’m glad I was able to assist you.”
He felt like a bloody idiot. Had he forgotten how to carry a conversation? Everything he said to her was so mundane. What had happened to the charming rogue who flirted with the ladies of the ton? Collin didn’t resemble his former self, and it bothered him a little. Had rusticating in the country changed him so much? He gestured to the ground beside her. “May I join you?”
“You don’t mind possibly ruining your fine attire?” she asked.
He flashed her a warm smile. “It’s not so fine that a little dirt could possibly ruin it.” Collin would gladly toss his trousers in the rag pile if it gave him some precious time close to Lady Charlotte. “May I?” he asked again.
“Of course,” she said affably and patted the ground next to her. “We can discuss the swans.”
He sat next to her and glanced toward the pond. “Were you sketching them?”
She nodded and snuggled closer to him. “They’re so lovely and elegant.” She laid her head on his shoulder, and he had to resist the urge to pull her into his arms. Collin didn’t want to presume he had the right to do so. “What do you know about swans?” she asked.
“I cannot say I’ve ever studied them in length.” He glanced at
the pair swimming on the pond. Collin couldn’t do anything else. They transfixed him. “I have heard they mate for life. There are not many species that are as faithful as swans.”
“What a pleasant thought.” She pulled his jacket a little closer. “Marriage in the ton isn’t always so nice.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. Most marriages were business arrangements. His parents had loved each other. He believed that to the depth of his soul. Uncle Charles had adored his aunt. He’d witnessed some good marriages. Even his sister had found a man who worshipped her. Collin wanted that kind of love. “That doesn’t mean all marriages are like that.”
“I know,” she said softly. “My parents…” Her voice trailed off. “I didn’t agree with their decision to send me here. I hated them a little for it.” She sat up and he missed her warmth. “But I never doubted they loved me. They have always tried to do their best by word and deed. They showed me every day of my life what love was, and yet, I decided my lofty goals were far more important than something as mundane as love.” She turned to face him. “Have I made a mistake?”
“I’m no expert,” he began. “But I think we all make mistakes. The question you should ask yourself is if you learned anything from them and what you should do next.” He moved closer to her and placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. All children become angry at their parents and vice versa. Regrets don’t help anyone move forward.”
Her smile wobbled a little bit. “Wise words.”
“Don’t give that much credence to me. I’m repeating something someone once said to me.” After his parent’s died, he’d been so angry. At the world, at them for leaving him, and his uncle for being alive—it had taken Collin quite a while to accept his new life. “Perhaps you should write to them. Your parents that is… Have you heard anything from them since you were sent here?”