Moon and Stars

by Elizabeth Johns

  At least, now, she could die having been kissed. It would have to do.

  Everyone had long ago accepted her spinsterhood—as had she, yet the dark, handsome stranger called to her inner longing. He made the contentment she had only thought she had achieved now feel like a drab, unpleasant state of existence. Charlotte never did anything exciting or unexpected. Did anyone truly know her? The longing to do something more bold filled her heart.

  Charlotte was one of the last down to breakfast. She did not particularly enjoy early morning without a good reason. Everyone else had eaten and were preparing to return to their country estates that day. Only her brother and his wife, Jolie, remained in the breakfast parlour.

  “Good morning, Lottie,” her brother greeted her as he set down his cup of coffee.

  “Good morning, Benedict. Jolie.” She could not help but smile this morning despite her self-doubt. Even the bright yellow room echoed her sunny disposition today.

  “Are you feeling quite the thing, Lottie? You seem different,” Jolie asked with a suspicious glance of her violet eyes.

  “I feel quite well, thank you,” she replied in the most unassuming manner she could manage as she made her way to the mahogany sideboard to fill her plate.

  “Charlotte, we were just talking about you and wondering if you would care to come to Yardley with us? Since Mother is away in Italy, I cannot abide the thought of you going back to Langdon House alone.”

  “Benedict, I think it is high time you stop thinking of me as a schoolroom chit and accept I am past my prayers. No one will think anything of it. Besides, you know how I loathe winter and it is harsh enough on the south coast.” She placed some bacon and eggs on her plate with deliberate slowness before turning around to face the conversation she dreaded.

  “Then I insist you find a companion.” He flashed his determined, green-eyed look at her which he tended to do when issuing ducal edicts. She would not be dictated to in this.

  “Do not be ridiculous. Mother will return soon, and I have my maid until then. No one will take note either way. I never go into local society.” She placed her plate on the table and sat in one of the large chairs as far away from him as she could.

  Her brother let out a loud sigh, which expressed the constant argument they had had over the years. He was quiet while he was gathering his thoughts…she could see by the way he put down his cup and looked at her with pity in his eyes, though she was unprepared for his next question.

  “Lottie, are you happy?”

  She did not answer for a moment as she tried to quell her anger. However, as she thought about it, she realized she was not happy. Perhaps her experience the night before had made her recognize she was not even content.

  “I do not think I could lay claim to happiness precisely,” she answered quietly as she plucked a slice of toast from the rack before her and spread butter on it before she took a bite.

  “Then why not do something about it?”

  “What do you suppose I can do, Benedict? Ladies cannot stroll into White’s. I cannot go to the theatre or Astley’s or Tattersall’s by myself without being thought fast. I cannot be a wife and mother because no one wishes to have me. Is that what you want to hear? The cold, ugly truth?”

  She looked up to see her brother and sister-in-law staring at her. Never before had she spoken in such a way to either of them. She continued.

  “No, it is much easier to assume the role of plump spinster who stays in the shadows in Society, and jolly aunt to my scores of nieces and nephews. My novels and cats keep me company in the cold winter and do not complain.”

  Benedict’s spoon slid from his hand, the clink echoing in the room.

  Jolie finally spoke. “Is there anything else that would make you happy? Helping at one of the schools or orphanages? Travelling? Or do you really wish to be a wife and mother?”

  “It would be easier if I knew what I did want. I had always thought I would have children, but there has never been an acceptable opportunity. Perhaps there is something more I could do with my life, though.” She pondered this idea.

  “We only wish to help, not criticize. I have not been a proper brother in seeing to your future. Is there anyone at all who interests you? Perhaps something could be contrived to put you in the way of some desirable suitors.” Charlotte could see her brother’s mind taking hold of the idea.

  “It is rather too late for me, I am afraid.” As she spoke the words, she realized she did not want them to be true.

  “With your beauty, fortune and connections, I cannot imagine there would not be some good matches for you,” Jolie said, her eyes kind.

  Charlotte scoffed and pulled a mocking face. Jolie—the ton’s most celebrated, goddess-like creature alive—was calling her a beauty? It was too much. She still could not stop the heat she felt coming to her cheeks, though. Charlotte was interested in a man for the first time in her life and she had no idea who he was. It was not something she wished to confess at the breakfast table. “There were some people I was unacquainted with at the ball last night,” she confessed, her eyes averted to her tea cup, hoping they would see it as a change of subject.

  “I did not see anyone who was not close friends and family. I wonder who it could be? Was it a gentleman?” Jolie asked with undisguised interest.

  “Perhaps I have just forgotten,” Charlotte remarked, not wanting to draw more notice to the fact. She was often in her own world and did not pay as much attention as she ought.

  “Are you well acquainted with David Douglas?” Yardley asked his wife.

  “Sir David?” Jolie asked as she reached for the marmalade. “He is Maili’s uncle. I only saw a glimpse of him last evening.”

  “He was not at the ball long,” Yardley remarked.

  Sir David. Charlotte did not know the name. Could he be her mysterious gentleman?

  “Perhaps he is not comfortable in Society yet. Apparently, he was involved in the scandal with Lord Brennan. I heard he was the one who finally brought him to justice,” Jolie said after a sip of tea.

  Charlotte wanted to know more.

  “It does not change the fact of his being a smuggler and kidnapper,” Yardley retorted.

  Charlotte swallowed her hot tea too fast and tried not to choke.

  “Brennan was blackmailing Sir David to gain his assistance. He escaped to the West Indies after Brennan killed several people and placed the blame on him. It is said Brennan killed David’s brother and wife, although David managed to save the children. That is how Seamus, Catriona and Maili came to be at the orphanage where Lord Craig found them,” Jolie explained.

  Is this why her gentleman had said he was better not to be known? He sounded more like a hero than a scoundrel to her.

  “Our departure will be delayed a while. Cavenray has asked me to help him with a small matter this morning.” He folded up his paper and set it aside.

  “How does he wish for you to help?” Jolie asked, a slight wrinkle forming between her brows.

  “To lend my support to having Sir David pardoned. I am well acquainted with dear George.”

  “Why does he need a pardon if he was innocent?” Charlotte could not help asking.

  “He was not completely innocent in his younger days. He was a smuggler,” Yardley muttered.

  “Will you help?”

  “I have yet to decide. I will go along and hear it out. There might be more to the story than I am aware of.”

  “So long as we can leave today, husband. We must be at Yardley in time for Christmas Eve.”

  “I will bid you farewell and Season's Greetings now, then. I am off as soon as my trunks are loaded.” Charlotte said, wanting to ask more, but she was afraid to expose her interest. If he really was a rogue, it was likely he considered it a game to kiss every pathetic spinster he happened upon. She suddenly felt very sorry for herself and made her excuses to leave the table. It was better to go back to her comfortable way of life where last night’s kiss would be but a fond memory.


  “What is going on? Why are you reluctant to help a member of the family?” Jolie asked her husband once Charlotte had departed.

  “Can a man not guard his own reputation?” Yardley asked, mildly affronted.

  Jolie narrowed her eyes and waited for a proper response.

  “Very well. I saw Douglas and Charlotte dancing—waltzing—on the terrace last night.”

  “How romantic! Were you afraid they would be caught? As Charlotte pointed out, she is rather firmly on the shelf. No one even remarks it if she does something outlandish. And she has become more and more so with each passing Season.”

  Yardley grunted.

  “Did you spy on them?”

  Yardley arched a haughty eyebrow. “I would not call having an eye for my sister’s welfare spying. He is the first person I have seen her react to in such a way, and he appeared to be equally enchanted.” He did not seem pleased by the revelation.

  “Yet you do not want him anywhere near her.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “How could you consider him to be worthy of Charlotte?”

  “Cavenray says he is a reformed man.” She countered.

  “I am delighted for him. As long as he stays away from my sister.”

  “Benedict,” Jolie warned.

  “Even if I were to overlook his scandalous past, he is still at the mercy of the King, his current title belongs to his nephew, as does his estate and fortune. He has nothing to recommend him but a criminal record!”

  “If our families support him, there is nothing about his situation that cannot be portrayed in a heroic light. Society loves a reformed rogue.”

  Yardley scowled and brushed back a lock of blond hair that had fallen across his handsome brow.

  “Do you think she realizes it is him? Besides, Charlotte will return to Langborn and not venture out for months until there is a compelling reason for her to do so.”

  “She has already refused my offer of returning to Yardley with us,” he agreed.

  “So there will be little cause for them to associate. I am certain there is nothing for you to concern yourself over,” Jolie said, careful not to allow any hint of her plan into her voice, as she drew her husband into her arms to distract him from his foul mood. “So you may go and lend your support, at the very least.”

  “Very well,” he agreed reluctantly. “But only for you.”

  David fidgeted and paced as he waited in the antechamber to the King’s Drawing Room. The Duke of Yardley, the Duke of Cavenray and his nephew, now Lord Dannon, were all having a private audience with the King on David’s behalf. No matter the prestigious names speaking for him, he was still nervous and his palms were sweating like a schoolboy about to go before the headmaster. He had no idea what to say to the King if he even granted him an audience. The truth was, he had been a free-trader, smuggling goods illegally. He had killed people in self-defence, and he had kidnapped his nieces and nephew for their own safety. On the other hand, he had done some things to atone for his sins—but were they enough? He saw how Seamus, Catriona, Maili and Letty had become wonderful adults and felt a small spark of pride at his part in that. He had freed all of his slaves and felt pleased with the knowledge that he had done the right thing. But were those enough recompense for his youthful indiscretions?

  He sat back down and put his head in his hands, ruffling his hair. What would he do next, if he were free? The title and estate in Westmorland really belonged to Seamus. He had always had an interest in horses and he had enough money to begin a respectable stud farm. Yardley owned one of the best in England and perhaps he would give him some advice. He still could not believe that Lady Charlotte’s brother was here, speaking for him today. It did not mean he would condone David courting his sister—certainly not if he knew he had been with her on the terrace the night before. That was another matter entirely, especially when he himself agreed he was unworthy to wash her feet. Yet, that kiss…he shook his head. He had stolen it, knowing she was too innocent to know what she was saying. He must stop thinking of her!

  What else was there left for him? He could always return to his plantation and rebuild the manor house. There was always America, where many people had chosen to begin a new life. It was all so daunting, but something inside him wanted to remain at home.

  The large white and gold door opened and a liveried footman stepped out.

  “His Majesty will see you now, sir.”

  David walked into the bright red room, ornately decorated with gilt and boasting large chandeliers. He bowed deeply to the King. He had seen him as the young Prince Regent but the years of dissipation had not been kind to him. He was very portly and struggled to breathe, but his eyes held intelligence. David waited for His Majesty to speak.

  “I hope, should I ever find myself in a pinch, I would have such loyal men to speak on my behalf. ’Tis still hard to believe Brennan was the mastermind of the smuggling operation for all those years, beneath our noses. I am obliged to you for your part in stopping him. Have you anything to say for yourself?” he wheezed.

  “Thank you, your Majesty. I will confess to being a rogue in my youth. I have learned the error of my ways and can promise to be a loyal citizen to the Crown now.”

  The King chuckled appreciatively, which brought on a fit of coughing. “Lord Dannon says he does not wish for the baronetcy and estate of Crossings to be taken from you. He says his hands are quite full with the Dannon holdings. Will you also refuse them?”

  David did not know what to say. This was wholly unexpected.

  “Astonishing, is it not? I have never seen such goodwill amongst men. Perhaps I should set you all amongst the Tories and put them in line.” He chuckled at his wit.

  David was speechless.

  The King’s face straightened. “However, I do think I could use your help in a little matter.” He waved his corpulent hand. “Earn your pardon.”

  David’s heart sank. Of course it could not come so easily.

  “Since you have intimate knowledge of the free-traders, I thought to set you amongst the Rottingdean gang, to see if you can help disband them. They are becoming a demned nuisance. They killed some of my men and are raiding my ships.”

  It could also be a death warrant for him, David realized while the King had to pause to catch his breath. “Your Majesty, if I may, it is common knowledge that it was I who betrayed Brennan. No one would trust me within a mile of the coast, now.”

  The King wrinkled his brow, clearly not pleased with his plan being contradicted. The advisor, a nondescript gentleman in black, shifted uncomfortably.

  “Then do not let them know who you are,” King George said in a fit of petulance. “When the Rottingdean gang is brought down, you may have your pardon.”

  “Yes, your Majesty.”

  Seeming somewhat mollified that David had agreed to his plan, the King nodded and excused them with a wave of his hand as the servants swarmed in to attend His Majesty. David released a sigh of frustration. He could live without the title or estate. He only hoped His Majesty would be so accommodating if he failed to destroy this group.

  “I am grateful for your efforts on my behalf,” David said to the others once they were outside St. James’s Palace and waiting for their mounts.

  “I wish your pardon had not been conditional. Is what he asks possible?” his nephew asked as they mounted and made their way north on Albermarle Street toward Mayfair.

  “I suppose if Brennan was brought down, then Captain Dunn can be. However, I had a great deal of help in making that successful.”

  “We will help however we can,” Cavenray assured David, having been part of the group which had helped foil Lord Brennan. “I assume the gang operates out of the village with the same name?”

  “His trails run near my Langborn estate, in fact,” Yardley finally spoke.

  He had said nothing up to this point, David had noticed, still wondering why he was there.

  All of the men turned to look at Yardle
y with surprise.

  “They have never been violent, or bothered my land or peoples, so I have not felt the need to pursue it,” he explained.

  “They must have done something else to have wrought the King’s ire,” Cavenray said.

  “Do you have any idea where to start?” David’s nephew, Seamus, asked.

  “Lady Brennan and Letty will be arriving soon at Wyndham for her convalescence; you could join them there. It is not too far to Langborn,” Lord Craig suggested.

  “I do not want anyone to associate them with me. The only way to bring a gang down is from within—become one of them. I will need to live like them.”

  “Let us know how we may help. You saved our lives once,” Seamus pleaded.

  David shook his head. “I cannot risk your lives again. Captain Dunn is rumoured to be every bit as nasty as Brennan, and he has less to lose.”

  “It does not mean we cannot offer assistance,” Cavenray suggested.

  “There is a cabin on my property you may use, on one condition,” Yardley interjected.

  David and the others all turned to look at Yardley with astonishment.

  “You stay away from my sister.”

  Chapter 3

  In my new pique of independence, choosing to ride for the first time in heaven knows when, I could barely button my habit today. If that were not humiliating enough, I can scarcely feel my bottom and my every joint aches. It was, however, invigorating and I must resolve to renew daily exercise. I fear I am becoming my mother. But why, oh why, are biscuits so hard to resist?—1 Feb

  Melancholy is a very real part of an English winter. Even in the south, there was cold, damp and a biting wind coming off the Channel. All the chimneys had plumes of smoke rising from them, indicating a day best kept inside. Why had she agreed to a weekly tea at Wyndham Court, the estate of Lord and Lady Easton and the Earls of Wyndham? Much as she adored them, she would like nothing more than to stay in bed the entire day.