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

by Henrietta Harding

  She lay back down on the bed and sighed. The ceiling looked the same as it had since she was a child. Yet somehow it looked different tonight. That ceiling looked worn. Had it looked like that this morning?”

  Maybe she had just never taken the time to look at it properly. Amanda wiped a tear from her cheek. It infuriated her that she was wasting tears over that scoundrel, but the sadness would let her do nothing else.

  It was fortunate really that her brother had shown her Lord Stanhope’s true nature. Amanda’s pride cried that she could change him, but she knew that people had to want to see their flaws before they would change. That was something Amanda knew all too well.

  If she never slept again maybe it was just as well. The thoughts of all her shortcomings swam in her head. Despite Katrina’s words that she was better off, Amanda wondered if she truly was.

  Her brother would certainly do his best to make sure that Lord Stanhope caused no undo trouble for her. But still, Amanda feared what the whisper of scandal could do. After all, look what it had done to Charlotte, and she was the very epitome of lady-like virtue. Amanda in no way thought herself immune and her brother’s persuasion and influence would only do so much if Lord Stanhope chose to spread rumours.

  Despite herself, she fell asleep. The next time her eyes opened she was being woken up by Katrina. The maid helped her get dressed while filling the void with small talk.

  Once she was alone, Amanda stared at her reflection in her mirror. She looked the same, yet older somehow. “Maybe it’s just the puffiness from my crying last night,” Amanda mused as she turned her head to the side to examine her profile.

  She sat there for a long while. She sat there for so long that Katrina had time to return with her breakfast. “I don’t think you’ve moved at all,” the maid said with a frown. “Are you certain that you are not sick?”

  “Heartsick, perhaps,” Amanda turned in her chair to face her maid. “Truthfully, I am not well. It is not an ailment that a doctor can cure, though.”

  Katrina came over and knelt down beside Amanda. “What is it that troubles you? You know that Lord Stanhope does not deserve your grief.”

  “It is not Lord Stanhope that ails me.” Amanda drew in a deep breath. She waved a hand at her reflection. “Is this all I am? This face that stares back at me mocks me.”

  Katrina frowned, her hand coming to rest on Amanda’s arm. “I don’t think I understand.”

  “A young lady only has so many seasons to find a match. I was late debuting and who is to say with all of this that I shall ever find someone who wishes to marry me?” Amanda choked back the tears. “I do not want to be alone.”

  Katrina gave her arm a squeeze, the girl’s pretty face taking on genuine concern and sympathy for her mistress. “You are not alone. You have friends who adore you. And you had plenty of suitors before Lord Stanhope.”

  “Yes, and I brushed them all away for a charade.” Amanda sighed and shook her head at Katrina. “What friends do I have? All I had I mistreat. Even you.”

  Katrina scoffed. “Nonsense. You have done me no harm. I am still your friend, Miss.”

  “It makes me happy to hear that.” Amanda gave the maid a smile. She wondered if she and Charlotte would be able to put their relationship back on the right track. If possible she would like to mend things with the woman. “I just hope that I have not proven my brother correct and finally ruined my future.”

  Katrina clicked her tongue and patted Amanda’s hand. She stood up and brushed her skirt back into place. “Loving someone may hurt, but I would never call it a mistake. You saw the best in Lord Stanhope. You even saw that Charlotte had a lady in her.”

  “Yes and look what my pushing her into that role earned her. Her reputation is ruined,” Amanda said. The guilt rose up in her and Amanda had no defence against. There was nothing in her that could redeem that.

  Katrina poured Amanda some tea. “That talk is foolish. You had nothing to do with Charlotte’s scandal. That is on her and your brother and should not be shouldered by you.”

  “Should it not? I practically forced her into that position.” Amanda took the tea. She was not hungry, but she doubted that Katrina was going to let her get away without at least attempting to eat.

  Katrina sighed and looked at Amanda much like her teacher used to when she had missed an answer. “You talk of your brother and his ridiculous tendency to martyr himself. Well, I think I’ve finally found the family resemblance beyond your blonde hair and grey eyes.”

  Amanda wanted to rebuke her words. She tried to come up with a way to deny them. After all, Amanda was no martyr. Yet, here she was taking on all the blame when it should be shared.

  “I think your family’s tendency toward protectiveness and charity is a wonderful thing, but there are those that will use it to their advantage, Miss,” Katrina said with a smile. “I thought you were very clever to suppress that side of yourself. It doesn’t seem like it would be much of an asset in society.”

  Amanda looked at Katrina. The maid thought much as she had. Her brother’s weakness was something she strove against. “I used to blame my brother a lot for his weakness. It made him leave me and go off to war with only the staff and my aunt to guide me.” She ran her finger along the lace that adorned her sleeves. “Seeing what he went through with his wife convinced me it was best to marry without love.”

  “Did you love, Lord Stanhope?” Katrina asked the question with a respectful dip of her head.

  Amanda’s brow furrowed as she thought of the man. “No. I did not truly love him. I was rather attached to the idea of him.” She shrugged and sipped her tea.

  “It’s brave to love,” Katrina said, “but not always wise.”

  Amanda nodded. “I think I’ve felt the barest touches of love before. It is a frightful thing, and I do not know if I truly have the strength to endure it.”

  Katrina smiled. “Yet, you worry that you might not marry.”

  “There is quite a difference between marriage and love,” Amanda said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m beginning to think that only fools pursue it.”

  Katrina nodded as she turned to leave. “You might be right about that. Certainly didn’t do my mother much good.” With another smile, Katrina was gone from the room, leaving Amanda alone with her thoughts again.

  Amanda sighed at her reflection. She would simply have to take what comes. Graham certainly did not seem concerned about Lord Stanhope, but Amanda knew he could cause trouble if he truly wished to.

  Chapter 12

  Charlotte had not seen Amanda since she had come down to eat breakfast. She wandered the halls and chided herself at how much like home the manor had come to feel. There was little use at getting nostalgic over the walls and floors. Soon enough she would be back at the vicarage.

  Amanda’s words echoed in her head from the night before. She had seemed certain that Lord Easterly would help Charlotte make a match. He had certainly been willing to allow her to choose to marry Lord Stanhope.

  Her pride stung at the memory of Lord Easterly discussing her dowry with the man. She tried to tell herself that it had little to do with her and more to do with Lord Easterly teaching Amanda a lesson. Yet she had taken it all too personally.

  No matter how she tried to erase the memory, the kiss with Lord Easterly hung between them like a ghost. The man had the unusual effect of making her heart swell to bursting and then ripping it out, sometimes all within the same conversation. Charlotte shoved the thoughts away.

  She tried to think of anything else, yet her mind wandered back to Lord Easterly. His dark blond hair covering his face just enough to give him a boyish appeal, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief came to her mind’s eye no matter how much she tried to banish them. Charlotte’s mind retraced how the man’s broad shoulders had felt under her arms when she had wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Lord Easterly might have the grey streaks of wisdom showing in his beard, but his body had felt hard and un
relenting when she had pressed close to him. Despite it not being the fashion, the man spent a good deal of time outdoors and it showed in his tanned skin. He was dashing if she was being frank.

  No wonder the duchess was so taken with him. A pang of jealousy struck her heart. She recalled Lord Easterly’s words about how he was friends with the duchess. Friendship was a good place for the start of a marriage, and often was the only requirement for such an arrangement.

  The very idea of Lord Easterly marrying the duchess repulsed her so much that she suddenly felt her appetite flee. Yet she was already pushing the kitchen door open. The smells of warm pastry filled the air.

  “Miss Charlotte!” Henrietta practically bounced up onto her toes as she embraced Charlotte in a hug so warm that she felt her worries vanish for at least a moment.

  Charlotte hugged the woman back, fiercely. “Henrietta, I have missed you so.”

  Henrietta chortled with laughter. “I should say. I no more than heard you were back from London before a maid told me that you had left to live with the vicar.”

  “Yes. I have taken on a governess position tending to the vicar’s children.” Charlotte tried to fill the words with a chipper tone, but she could tell that it had not worked by the look on Henrietta’s face.

  Henrietta patted the kitchen table. “Sit. I shall not allow Lord Easterly the pleasure of your company this morning. I shall keep you to myself.”

  “I have not yet even seen Lord Easterly or Miss Easterly.” Charlotte did as she was bidden and took a seat while Henrietta gathered the tea and pastries onto a tray. “I am only here now because Lord Easterly insisted on me not riding home in the dark.”

  Henrietta huffed. “And well he should have. There are scoundrels aplenty in this world.”

  “I need to get back to Mrs. Wilson. She will be terribly worried. I did want to thank my hosts before I left though.” Charlotte breathed in the smell of cinnamon as Henrietta put the tray down on the table.

  Henrietta took a seat as well and she poured them some tea. They ate a pastry each in silence before Henrietta said, “I am saddened to hear that you will not be staying with us.”

  “Well, I have made a commitment.” Charlotte knew it was not exactly a ringing endorsement of enthusiasm for her employment, but she had been taught not to break a commitment.

  Henrietta sat her teacup down gently on the saucer. “A man or woman is only as good as their word.”

  “Yes. My father was very strict on the matter of promises. He believed once you gave your word then you were bound to fulfil your agreement.” Charlotte felt some of the old grief and loneliness invade her heart as she thought of her family.

  Henrietta shook her finger at Charlotte. “There are times when commitments can be broken, though, and one’s dignity remains intact.”

  “I have few options at my disposal.” Charlotte took a sip of the sweet tea that tasted of peppermint. “Even if I were inclined to get out of my commitment, I have nowhere to go.”

  Henrietta tutted at her. “You have here. Tell me that you think the lordship would turn you out and I will tell you the falseness of that.”

  “I do not think he would turn me away, but I also do not wish to put the burden of myself upon him. I have already led him to scandal. He is a good man, a kind man. He does not deserve that.” Charlotte took the last sip of her tea. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  Henrietta reached across the table. “Please do not be angry with me. I only wish you to stay.”

  “I know,” Charlotte assured the woman. She clasped Henrietta’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I could never be angry with you. You have always been so kind to me.”

  Henrietta let go of Charlotte’s hand and pulled a handkerchief out of her apron. She dabbed her eyes. “I wish I could make you stay.”

  “It is not for the best. But I promise that I will take the time to come visit.” Charlotte stood up. “Can I help you with the dishes?”

  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.