Page 5 of Under the Seductive Ladys Charm
Charlotte sat for a moment more, but Amanda did not offer to take her to the vicarage. “Very well,” Charlotte said. She stepped out of the carriage and gave Amanda a smile. “When shall I expect you?”
“I shall send the carriage around to the vicarage tomorrow morning, if that is suitable?” Amanda asked the question and it surprised Charlotte that she was even being consulted.
Charlotte nodded. “That sounds fine.”
“See you then,” Amanda said with a wave. The footman closed the door and managed to get on the back of the carriage before it rolled away.
Charlotte stood in the light rain staring after the carriage for a moment before she turned and walked toward the vicarage. As she stepped towards her home, the clouds let loose and fat, heavy drops of rain coated her quite thoroughly.
Charlotte groaned. “For the love of all that is pure,” she muttered. Her dress would be ruined, but there was no helping it. She trudged on in the downpour.
When she reached the vicarage, Mrs. Wilson gave her a look of horror. “I apologise for dripping.”
“Not at all. Go on and change quickly,” Mrs. Wilson said, ushering her up the stairs.
Charlotte was grateful to change out of her wet clothes, which she laid aside with dismay. Mrs. Wilson came in with towels. “Here you go,” she said, handing Charlotte one.
“Thank goodness for my hat,” Charlotte said as she set the wet thing aside and eyed her nearly dry hair. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson.”
“I thought you would be in the village by now,” Mrs. Wilson said with visible curiosity as she lingered nearby.
Charlotte tugged on a new and blissfully warm dress as the chill from the damp set in. “I would have been, but I stopped to speak with Miss Easterly. She saw me walking along the road and wanted to catch up.”
“Oh, did you talk to her about your situation?” Mrs. Wilson meant well, but Charlotte cringed at the harsh reminder of just how desperate she really was. “Sorry,” Mrs. Wilson whispered.
Charlotte sighed. “No. It is true that I am quite bereft of options,” She sat down on the bed behind, which creaked. “We did talk about my situation. She offered to let me live with them, but I refused. That is just too much of a handout for my dignity to withstand.”
“Oh no,” Mrs. Wilson said mournfully. “I am sure she did not mean it that way.”
Charlotte waved off the woman’s concern. “She did not, but I still refused. Then she offered me a position working as a companion. Against my better judgment, I have accepted that offer.”
“She is your friend. You should be happy to have a position working for someone you like. This is a marvellous opportunity, Charlotte.” Mrs. Wilson was positively beaming and seemed confused as to why Charlotte was so reserved about it.
Charlotte nodded. “It is. I just do not know if Lord Easterly will feel the same way. She offered me a position without his knowledge.”
“But it is a household position, surely she has some sway in that area,” Mrs. Wilson said with a cluck of her tongue. “You are simply so accustomed to the worst happening that you have come to expect it.”
The idea made Charlotte laugh, even as the truth of it stung. “You might have a point.”
“I am sure the children will be sad to see you go and so will I, but I do think it will be a good thing for you.”
Charlotte nodded and tried to convince herself that Mrs. Wilson was right. It was harder than one might expect. She had learnt the hard way to not place her hopes on something.
Mrs. Wilson left her and Charlotte decided to forgo the evening meal. She could scarcely think of food with her stomach tied up in knots as it were. She had to pack and there was little enough time for that and sleep.
Charlotte went to her desk and lay her hand on the newspaper that lay there still open at the page telling of how the king was going to bestow a new title of viscount upon Lord Easterly for his commendable service to the crown in the war. Her brother would get no titles, but the very thought that she would soon see Lord Easterly set the knots tighter in her stomach. She wondered what the man was like now.
She tried to recall from her time as a child in Berwick Manor the man’s face. He had been older than her and Amanda. He had married shortly before Charlotte stopped going to the manor and their lives diverged.
She still remembered the day that she had heard of Lady Easterly’s death. It had been such a sad affair that mourners from all over the county had come to show their respects. Charlotte had not told the man how sorry she had been for his loss. She understood what it felt like to have someone ripped away like that.
Charlotte frowned. She shook herself out of her revelry and opened her wardrobe with determination. She had to decide what clothing was worth taking with her. She had no idea what sort of clothing a lady’s maid and companion would need to have on hand.
Being a lady’s maid was not a horrible fate and, in fact, could be seen as a very respectable position. It might even make her somewhat appealing for marriage, which Charlotte would not mind. She sighed and took dresses out of her wardrobe to lay on the bed.
The only issue Charlotte had was that she did not have the skills of a lady’s maid. As much as she had tended to the Wilson children and helped around the home, she was still lacking in other areas she felt sure would haunt her. Charlotte learnt things from books because she did not have a mother or a governess to teach her.
She sat on the edge of the bed and wiped away a tear. All the grief and loneliness came back in a wave that left her shaking from the exertion to not sob. She had no time to break down and cry.
