Page 67 of Under the Seductive Ladys Charm
Henrietta shooed her off, waving her handkerchief to fend Charlotte’s hands away from the tray. “I will not hear of it. You go on and talk to Lord Easterly.”
Charlotte nodded and left the woman to her dishes. Of all the people Charlotte wanted to talk with, Lord Easterly was not Charlotte’s first choice. She was afraid of what she might say to the man.
She stopped in her tracks as the doorman called out to her as he rounded the corner. “Miss Browne, you have a visitor.”
“A visitor?” Charlotte could not fathom who it could be. Had Mrs. Wilson come to find her?
The doorman nodded. “Yes, Miss.” The man leaned forward and whispered, “It is that Lord Stanhope, Miss. Do you wish for me to get rid of him?”
Charlotte sighed in exasperation. What on earth could the man want? “I suppose I shall have to see him, or it would be rude. Is there anyone free to be a chaperone?”
“Miss Sullivan is already in the conservatory,” the doorman said. He looked a little displeased that Charlotte had not given him permission to oust the visitor. When Charlotte nodded her agreement, he gave her a bow and went off to fetch Lord Stanhope.
Charlotte hurried along to the conservatory where she found Mrs. Sullivan waiting. The woman was just as Charlotte remembered and she grew nervous as the woman eyed her sternly. Mrs. Sullivan nodded to Charlotte. “Good to see you again, Charlotte.”
“And you,” Charlotte echoed back. It honestly was good to even see Mrs. Sullivan. “I appreciate you taking the time to chaperone for me. I would apologise for taking up your time, but I had no idea the man was coming here.”
Mrs. Sullivan waved off her words. “Unannounced guests are the worst sin,” the woman muttered. “Let us just see what he wants, shall we?”
Charlotte nodded and took a seat. A couple of minutes later, the doorman announced Lord Stanhope, who barged in before he was even properly announced. “Forgive my rashness, but I could not stand to wait another moment to see you.”
Charlotte eyed the man with suspicion. She was sure he was not telling the whole truth, but then when had he ever? “Lord Stanhope, do come in,” she said politely.
Mrs. Sullivan seemed to be intent on staring a hole through Lord Stanhope and the young lord finally noticed the tall woman. Charlotte waved her hand at Mrs. Sullivan. “This is Mrs. Sullivan. She is Lord Easterly’s housekeeper and, as such, has agreed to chaperone us.”
“Oh, good,” Lord Stanhope said as if it were not good at all, not even a little bit.
The man’s discomfort brought Charlotte a small amount of pleasure, which was swiftly stamped out by her guilt for feeling such a thing. “What is it that you came to talk to me about, Lord Stanhope?”
He did not sit down as Charlotte had expected him to. Instead, he dropped down on one knee before her. Charlotte’s mind quickly put together exactly why the man was here as he took her hand in his. “Again, I must ask forgiveness for my forward nature, but I feel there is no need to wait even a second more. I came here this morning, Miss Browne, to ask if you might consent to marry me?”
Charlotte stared at the man. The words of Lord Easterly the evening before echoed in her mind. “I see,” Charlotte said as she pulled her hand out of his grasp.
Lord Stanhope let his hand drop as he eyed her, as if he was not quite sure what to do. He stayed on his knee, waiting for her response. Charlotte could see the man’s brow wrinkled in confusion.
“Lord Stanhope, I know you are aware of my dowry. I also know that you told Lord Easterly you were amicable to marrying me,” Charlotte said, her voice calmer than she felt. Her heart beat against her ribcage as she had no idea how the man might react.
Lord Stanhope nodded and gave a little laugh. “Of course you do. We were all there,” he said with a smile. “Surely you hold some measure of affection for me. Most marriages do not even begin with that.”
“True, most marriages are based solely on the benefit of the union for the respective parties,” Charlotte said as she inclined her head to concede that point. “But the problem is that I require someone I can respect.”
Lord Stanhope stood up and dusted off his trousers. “Is this about the incident at the vicarage. Miss Browne. I was merely overcome – “
“Save your words,” Charlotte said as she cut him off mid-sentence. “This is about so much more than that. But yes, in essence, it is about how you feel it is perfectly fine to behave as you did. I deserve to be with someone who would never put me in such a situation to begin with, who would think of my wellbeing before their own gratification.”
Lord Stanhope smoothed his jacket. “Miss Browne, with all due respect, I am trying to help you. Do you think there will be many willing to marry you with your reputation as it is?”
Charlotte could not dispute the man’s point about her reputation. “Do you really think that saying it is for my benefit will really make me want to marry you? Lord Stanhope,” Charlotte rose to her feet so that the man was longer talking down to her. “For all of your put-on charms and the grace of your upbringing, you seem to have completely missed what being a gentleman truly is.”
“And you think to educate me?” Lord Stanhope chuckled and shook his finger at her. “I knew you were cheeky, but I had no idea you had this much fire in you. Go on then, tell me my flaws, Miss Browne.” He stood there waiting for her to continue, a smile upon his face.
Charlotte smoothed her dress as she calmed the anger that flared up within her. When she looked back up at him, she said, “Do you know what a real gentleman does? He gives of himself to those around him. He is kind and gentle.”
“I think you do not understand what a gentleman is at all,” Lord Stanhope said with a smirk at her description.
Charlotte shook her head at the irritating man. “No, Lord Stanhope. You are the one that is quite mistaken. You think you are better than everyone around you. But no one believes these airs you put on.”
“You and Miss Easterly certainly seemed to believe,” Lord Stanhope said as his irritation began to show. His hands clutched his jacket front.
