Page 1 of Under the Seductive Ladys Charm
Chapter 1
The vicarage in Dallington was a pleasant sort of place if one liked screaming children and having no space for one’s own thoughts. Charlotte sat outside in a crude swing that Mr. Wilson, the current vicar, had fashioned. Her feet swung back and forth, sweeping the grass to and fro.
Charlotte Browne had lived in this place for most of her life. Her father had been the previous vicar and although he had died four years earlier, thankfully Charlotte had been allowed to stay as a tenant of the current vicar and his wife.
The downside to that was that she spent a good deal of time helping Mrs. Wilson attend to her brood. As much as Charlotte longed to have children, she prayed fervently that they would not be the same sort as the vicar’s offspring. She could hear the children howling about some perceived injustice even as she sat outside.
She looked down at the letter. News had been slow to trickle in after the battle at Waterloo. In her hand she held the fate of her beloved brother Charles. It was one she had feared would come when the papers announced the end of the war but no word had come from her brother.
He was gone, dead on a battlefield somewhere. News of his death had finally trickled down to her, almost as if by happenstance. A tear rolled down her cheek as she promised her brother that she had not forgotten him as it seemed so many had.
Charlotte held the small clutch of letters she had received, including the last that informed her that her brother’s body was on the way home. That letter had been a bittersweet surprise. She had assumed her brother, a soldier of no great rank, would be left on the battlefield as so many others had. It was a kindness that she thought the lord himself must have visited on her.
“Charlotte.” Mrs. Wilson came bustling out of the house, a towel held between her well-worn hands. “Are you well? It has been some time since you stepped outside and I feared perhaps you had caught that sickness that Roger had the other day.”
With a forced smile, Charlotte shook her head. “I assure you that I am not ill. I was just reading the letter again.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Wilson said with a frown. “Have you given any thoughts as to what you will do now?” The woman’s voice was kind as she came to stand beside the swing and look down at Charlotte with sad brown eyes.
Charlotte’s brow wrinkled as she thought about the question. She had done little but think of that question since she had received the letter confirming her brother’s death. If she was more truthful, Charlotte might have said that she had thought of what she should do with herself long before the news arrived.
“I have thought about it. I just cannot seem to come up with any conclusions.” She looked up at Mrs. Wilson with a sigh. “You and the vicar have been most kind to me, but I cannot in good conscience stay on here without a stipend from my brother to cover my costs.”
Mrs. Wilson reminded her, “You do quite a bit around here to earn your keep, but a smart girl like you has other avenues. You could probably find a good job as a governess.”
Charlotte knew that Mrs. Wilson was trying to console her and be kind, but they both knew that the vicar did not earn enough to afford another mouth to feed. “I do not even know how to begin.”
Whatever Mrs. Wilson might have replied was lost in a deluge of wails as the woman’s two-year-old daughter came tumbling out of the back door. The indistinguishable babble of the child was of no use in deciphering why she was crying. Mrs. Wilson hurried over to the child and scooped her up.
“Now, now Dot, what is the matter?” Mrs. Wilson bounced the baby girl up and down on her hip.
Dot waved a hand still quite chubby with baby fat toward the door. Charlotte suggested, “Think Roger grabbed her doll again?”
“It is likely.” Mrs. Wilson placed a kiss on Dot’s blonde hair.
Charlotte gave Mrs. Wilson a smile. “I shall see if I can find him. He’s likely hid himself, thinking he will get in trouble.” She turned and went into the house. The Wilsons’ ten-year-old son Josh was sitting at the kitchen table working on what appeared to be schoolwork.
Josh looked up as Charlotte came over to him. “Roger’s hiding in the linen closet,” he confided to her in a whisper.
Charlotte gave Josh a pat on the back and went to find the mischievous Roger. The boy meant no harm. He merely liked causing a bit of a ruckus to get some attention. It was difficult to garner focused attention from the middle of a brood of six children in the Wilson family.
That being said Charlotte, despite her love of children, held no deep affection for the Wilson children. They were unruly and determinedly dirty despite all of Charlotte’s efforts to help Mrs. Wilson with them. Charlotte felt a little guilt at the irritation that she felt towards them.
Perhaps she was not cut out for this mothering business. Charlotte thought of other children she had been around who did not fill her with such agitation. The Wilson children were their own special brand.
“Roger,” Charlotte called as she neared the linen closet. “Where oh where could Roger be?”
There was a lilting laugh from the closet and Charlotte opened the door to find Roger hiding his face as if the grown-up could not see him if he could not see Charlotte. “Found you,” Charlotte called in a sing-song voice.
Roger peeked up at her through his hands and gave her a grin showing the gap where his first tooth had recently fallen out. “You always find me,” he complained, but not enough to stop grinning at her.
“That is because you laugh a lot.” Charlotte held out her hand and helped the boy up.
He scuffed the floor with his foot. “Can’t help if it’s funny.”
“Where is your sister’s doll?” Charlotte noticed the doll was not in the closet where Roger had been.
He shrugged. “I threw it.”
