Page 37 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
Charlotte laughed, tired of fighting the urge. “I suspect no one would think to court your wrath.”
“I despise musicales, but Niall asked me to attend. And since it’s not Shabbat, and I have no other excuse, it would be best if I didn’t disappoint him. Although I’m loath to admit it, I don’t like to tell him no.” Flora squeezed her fingers. “But the idea of sitting through Miss Eddington’s so-called performance is much more palatable knowing you would be there with me.”
“Misery loves company, I suppose,” Charlotte offered drily.
“Oh, it does.”
Charlotte finally allowed her spine to rest against her seat back. “If you insist upon it, I’ll do my best not to embarrass you.”
Flora snorted. “There is a greater chance I’ll embarrassyou.”
A burst of laughter flew from her mouth before she slapped her hand over it to stop it.
“Well, I see my job here is done.” Flora smoothed her hands down her skirts and stood. “If you’re laughing, you’re not melancholy, or worse, afraid.” She patted Charlotte on the shoulder. “I’ll do everything I can to help you sort this matter out.”
Crossing to the other side of the room, she pulled a bell cord. “I’ll ask Mrs. Patterson to escort you to a guest chamber so you can rest and freshen up before Niall escorts us to Little Windmill House. And I have a letter to write to my sister.”
“My lady?” Charlotte blurted out before she thought better of it.
“Yes?”
She swallowed convulsively as she tried to think of the best way to ask the question that had worried her tongue since the musicale was mentioned. “Will there be others in attendance tomorrow night I may know?”
“I’m not sure.” She wrinkled her nose in consideration. “Aside from Niall, my sister, and Ashwood, the Monroes will probably be there. No doubt the Fitzherberts.” Flora pointed at Charlotte. “Do be careful around Lord Fitzherbert’s hands—if you’re not, one, or perhaps both, will find their way to your bottom.”
“I’m quite adept at avoiding wandering hands.” It was the witty, flirtatious rejoinders falling from the lips of handsome blond men that left her vulnerable.
As if somehow sensing the direction of her thoughts, Flora’s eyes narrowed on her. Charlotte instantly grew wary.
“You don’t particularly care about any of those people, though, do you? You’re only concerned with whether a handsome viscount we both know will be in attendance.”
Counting slowly to ten, Charlotte held her breath, hoping to stem the flush of red threatening to swamp her cheeks. She feared her efforts were for naught when Flora grinned.
Before she could reply, Flora shook her head back and forth. “At the risk of you uttering your favorite line again”—she cleared her throat—“‘I don’t know what you mean’, know thatIcan see the sparks flying between the two of you as if you’re pyrite to his flint.”
Charlotte picked up her teacup before quickly putting it down when she noticed how much her hand trembled. “Lord Firthwell has been very kind.”
“He has. But for all his jests, he’s honorable.”
The woman’s words felt very much like an endorsement. Unable to help herself, she asked, “Have you set your cap at him?”
The other woman’s hearty laugh echoed about them. “Lud, no! I enjoy Firthwell’s witty banter, and heaven knows his face is no burden to look upon, but we would not get on.”
Uncertain of what to say, Charlotte remained quiet. Relief bloomed warm and soothing in her chest, and she feared Lady Flora would notice if she met her gaze.
“Let’s meet here in an hour, or whenever Niall arrives,” Flora suggested as an older woman entered the room. Turning to Charlotte, she held out a hand to the woman. “This is Mrs. Patterson, the housekeeper here at Campbell House. She’s been here, caring for Campbells, since well before I used to slide down the stair railing into the foyer.”
“Aye, I remember when Lady Flora was nothing more than a black-haired sprite who used to delight in scaring my maids by popping out at them while they went about their business,” Mrs. Patterson said, smiling fondly at Flora.
“Is it any wonder my parents hesitated taking me out in public?” She smirked. “Mrs. Patterson, this is Mrs. Taylor, the French and deportment teacher at the home. She will be staying with us for sometime and serving as my companion, ensuring I don’t embarrass Niall too greatly when I accompany him to events.” Flora flashed a smile when the housekeeper smacked her hand, clearly not admonished. “Please ensure she’s given the best guest room. And Charlotte, please let her know if there are certain food items you do not eat so she may notify the kitchen. I want you to be as comfortable here as possible.”
Charlotte was pleased that her employer was shrewd enough to consider whether she kept kosher. She followed Mrs. Patterson from the room, feeling more hopeful than she had an hour before.
…
Charlotte’s improved mood died a swift death when she returned home to gather her belongings and found the note lying on top of her cover pane.
How it had even come to be there, Charlotte didn’t want to contemplate, for it meant she’d been wise to accept Lady Flora’s offer of hospitality.
