Under the Seductive Lady's Charm: A Historical Regency Romance Book Read online

  She set her mind to just simply getting through the funeral and then she would see what she needed to do next. Perhaps she could wash clothes or do needlework. She was not much on sewing but she could try. Charlotte squared her shoulders and put her mind back on her work. A step at a time would get one down the road in front of them, as her father had always said.

  *

  On the day of the funeral, the sky was covered with a stubborn layer of clouds that not even the persistent wind that blew through the trees could budge. Charlotte felt that was right and proper. There should be no true sunshine in the world on the day she said goodbye to her brother.

  Charles deserved for the whole world to join Charlotte in mourning him. Even the clouds wept, and Charlotte walked down the steps of the church proud to walk through those raindrops. Her dark mourning dress and hat kept the drops from hitting her, but she could hear the taps that the rain made as it hit the world around her.

  She still had two of the white roses she had brought to leave at her brother’s grave in her hand. Charlotte tipped her hat back and a drop of cool rain hit her cheek. Her feet quickened their pace as she walked down the lane towards Dallington.

  It might be a small village, but it was all that was close by and Charlotte could think of no likelier place to find a better situation for herself. She could not continue staying at the vicarage, nor did she truly wish to do so. Perhaps she could find work as a maid at the inn, or wash dishes at the tavern.

  Most of those places probably used family labour, but Charlotte had to hope. She would trek into the village and see if she could find something suitable. If she was quick, she could be back at the vicarage by nightfall.

  Charlotte kept the tears at bay because, although she was sad, she simply had no time to indulge the emotion. She had to move forward and find herself a suitable place before she could even think of such things. It was not likely she could marry at this point as she was without dowry and of such a lowly position that she was a virtual social pariah.

  She became aware of another sound over the din of the rain. It was the sound of a carriage. There was a creaking as the driver called on the horses to slow. Charlotte looked around but did not recognise the carriage or driver. The man dipped his head to Charlotte and she gave him a little curtsey in return for his deference.

  It was then that a face appeared in the carriage window. “Charlotte Browne, is that you?”

  Charlotte peered at the window, but it was not until the footman hurried over and opened the door that Charlotte connected the voice with the face before her. “Amanda,” she breathed in surprise.

  “What are you doing walking in the rain? Get in the carriage.” Amanda leaned forward and waved Charlotte over eagerly, as if she were trying to save her from drowning.

  Charlotte’s situation was such that she decided that she had little choice. She climbed up into the carriage with Amanda. “This is such a treat,” Amanda continued once Charlotte was seated next to her, but the carriage did not move. “We have not seen each other in so long that I feel as though we are not the same people.”

  “That is probably true,” Charlotte said with a smile. “Time does change people. How have you been, Amanda?”

  Amanda gave Charlotte a bright smile that most likely set young men’s heart’s racing as Charlotte noted the twinkle in her old friend’s eyes. “I am preparing for the season, but I do not want to talk of such dull things. Do you recall how we used to hide from my governess?”

  “I believe that was mostly your doing,” Charlotte reminded her. “But yes, I do recall. You liked to climb up into the attic and hide among your mother’s old dresses.”

  Amanda agreed with a nod. “I still love visiting those old dresses, although we have got rid of a good amount of clutter in the attic.”

  “That is a shame. There were so many interesting objects in there.” Charlotte felt genuine sorrow for the loss of the treasure that held childhood memories for her.

  Amanda waved off her concern. “We still have plenty up there. My brother just takes these whims of generosity and decides to donate things.”

  “And is that really so bad?” Charlotte thought it was rather a sensible thing to do when one had such a cluttered space.

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “Oh, I should have known you would end up like your father. What was it he always said, if you have something then you have something to share?”

  Charlotte giggled and nodded. “He did use to say that, especially when we had some treat that one of us refused to share.”

  Amanda shifted, causing Charlotte to take in the lovely dress the girl wore. It was of a brilliant blue and the shawl around her shoulders was a crisp clean white that made Charlotte wonder if her friend had ever worn it before. Amanda seemed to only then register how Charlotte was dressed. “Why are you dressed so?” Amanda frowned at Charlotte as if she did not really want the answer.

  Charlotte looked down at her dress. It was her best one that was suitable for mourning. It was nothing fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was respectable. “Charles died in battle in the war,” Charlotte said as she smoothed her dress. “I have just come from his funeral at the church.”

  Amanda gave her a look of disturbance. “You went to a funeral? Are they not those usually held at night?”

  Charlotte straightened her shoulders. “I would not abandon my brother no matter the social decorum. I chose to have it during the day as my brother hated those long night-time processions.”

  “I am deeply grieved to hear of his death. He was a nice man from what I knew of him,” Amanda said.

  “It is quite fine. We had not seen each other since before my father’s death.”

  “Had we known, we would have made an appearance,” Amanda continued. “You could have reached out and said something.”

  Charlotte remained silent and looked out of the window. It was a small village. Surely Charles’ death would have reached their ears had they been listening.

  Amanda continued, “Come to think of it I think I do remember my brother on his return saying something about it all. I must admit that I was not paying attention and thinking it merely another war story. He has war stories aplenty.”

  Charlotte eyed the woman curiously. Lord Easterly had known? He had not made a point to come to the funeral. Amanda was still talking. “Still, you should not be out walking so in the rain. Where is your husband or escort?”

  “I have neither,” Charlotte said with great effort. “I have been living with the new vicar and his family as a tenant. Charles and I had planned to move away when he returned from the war.”

  Amanda looked at her for a long moment before she clapped her hands together like she used to when she had come up with a grand game for them to play as children. “Come and stay at Berwick Manor!”

  Charlotte’s mouth fell open and she snapped it shut with her very manners. “I could do no such thing.” She fought not to feel scandalised. She knew that Amanda had probably offered the invitation from the best possible place, but Charlotte could not in good conscience bring herself to accept such an offer, even if she did have nowhere else to turn.

  “Are you rejecting me or the offer?” Amanda put her hands on her hips.

  Charlotte sighed. “The offer, of course. I have not seen you or Lord Easterly in years. It would not stand for me to impose on his household in such a manner. My mother would rise up and scold me herself.”

  Amanda shook her finger at Charlotte. “We might not be the children we were but you are still very much the same old Lotte.”

  “Well, when you were called to go off and be a lady of high society, I was called into the community to be a vicar’s daughter. The two lives are hardly comparable,” Charlotte said with a smile. Lotte was an old nickname that she had not heard in a very long time. It warmed her heart toward her friend and softened her resolve against Amanda’s well-intentioned, if ill-advised, words.

  Amanda gave Charlotte a smile. “There is
no reason we should be separate any longer, though. Why, this could be a splendid opportunity for us to get reacquainted. Do you not see that this could be fate?”

  “You believe in fate now?” Charlotte gave her friend a knowing smile. “You have not changed that much either. You still cannot stand to not get your own way.”

  Amanda pushed her lips out in a pout then grinned. “I admit that I do like having my way. I shall make you one final offer.” Charlotte started to refuse before Amanda even finished speaking but decided to hear her out. Amanda leaned forward slightly in her seat. “You should come and be my companion and chaperone, lord only knows I probably need one. Just think about it, Lotte. It will be a lady’s maid position but without all the grubby parts.” Amanda seemed most amused with herself as she giggled.

  Charlotte sighed. The shadows were growing longer and still the carriage did not move. She had thought Amanda meant to give her a ride, but that was becoming less likely. No, Amanda had probably only been trying to satisfy her curiosity. Charlotte would be walking after dark at this rate to even get to the village.

  Amanda could have ridden her to a larger town that was not that much further away, but here Charlotte felt trapped by the movement of the sun and her own situation. “I do not know that I can accept such a position. It seems rather frivolous.”

  “There will be work involved,” Amanda assured her with a laugh. “I shall work you until your fingers bleed. Does that meet your requirements?”

  Charlotte could not help but laugh along with Amanda. “I am not that bent on punishment, but I would like an honest pay for honest work. Do you even really need such a person as that?”

  “You ask me if I need a chaperone? You grew up with me. What do you think, Lotte?” Amanda leaned back in her seat as a look of smugness settled over her face.

  Amanda had her there. Charlotte very much did think Amanda needed someone supervising her, but Amanda had always been a mischievous child, more so than one out to do harm. Charlotte sighed. “I suppose you have this all worked out somehow in your mind.”

  “I do,” Amanda assured her.

  “Should you not run this all by your brother before we agree to anything? He may have reservations.”

  “Nonsense,” Amanda batted the word back to her. “You just want to find a way out of it.”

  Charlotte gave her friend a smile and shook her head. “I appreciate your generosity, but I also know that taking on a person such as myself can have repercussions.”

  “I am hiring you. I should think that my brother will look upon me kindly for that. He is always on about how I should be a better person and such. Here I sit trying to do better and you throw it in my face.” Amanda folded her arms, but Charlotte could see no offense on the woman’s face.

  Charlotte slowly nodded. “I will tentatively agree. It is a generous offer that you have made me.”

  “Good. Then we should go home at once!” Amanda seemed quite dizzy about everything suddenly.

  Charlotte interceded. “I really must return to the vicarage and let Mr. and Mrs. Wilson know that I have other arrangements. It would be only right.”

  “Oh,” Amanda said with visible disappointment. “I suppose you are right. I would not want people out looking for you while you sip tea at the manor.”

  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.