The School of Charm: Books 1-5

by Maggie Dallen

  Blasted man with his handsome looks and his mischievous glint.

  He’d probably set out to impersonate her beloved Sir Edmond.

  She nibbled on her lower lip as she considered that.

  All right, fine. Perhaps he had not gone that far. But he had sold her out, making it sound like it was all her fault.

  I thought she was a child.

  She scoffed loudly in her bed. Oh please. As if that were some sort of excuse.

  I thought he was a ghost.

  She slammed a pillow over her face to smother her groan. If her father or any of his cohorts had ever doubted her sanity before, they were surely convinced she’d lost her mind now.

  If only she could explain…

  Maybe she could. Shifting again to try and get comfortable, she told herself that once her father had calmed down, she’d be able to make him see reason.

  She would explain everything and then he would see. She hadn’t been trying to cause trouble.

  It had all been a silly misunderstanding.

  Chapter One

  Six months later…

  Louisa leaned over the edge of the pram. “And so you see, Reggie, it was all just a misunderstanding.”

  She didn’t expect much of an answer from the sleepy babe who stared back at her, so the voice that answered gave her a start.

  “Yes, it’s all very clear now.”

  Louisa yelped in surprise and spun around to see her friend Adelaide standing in the doorway grinning. Louisa laughed as she picked a pillow off the bed and hurled it at her friend. “Addie, you scared me half to death!”

  “Sorry,” Addie said, but she did not look sorry at all. In the months since Addie had come to stay at Lady Charmian’s School of Charm, she’d grown into such a different person. She’d gained some much-needed weight and her cheeks were flushed and glowing. More importantly, she was gloriously happy now, where once she’d been so very scared.

  And really, who could blame her? The girl’s baby brother was safe from the scoundrel who’d tried to kidnap him, she’d found a home and close friends here at the school, and on top of all that—she’d gone and fallen in love with the Earl of Tolston, who adored her beyond all reason.

  Really, Addie had gone from desperate runaway to the school’s very own fairy tale come to life.

  Louisa shifted to look back at Reggie. He might have been Addie’s brother, but Louisa and Reggie had formed a bond of their own, and they were fast friends. Reggie’s eyes were shutting so she held a finger up to her lips and gestured for Addie to leave the room with her.

  Once in the hallway, Louisa linked her arm through Addie’s as they headed downstairs for supper. “How much of that did you hear?”

  Addie nudged her. “Not enough. I cannot believe you’d tell Reggie the story of how you came to be here at the school before you told me.”

  Louisa laughed; she knew her friend was in jest. But still, she had a point. Louisa had been awfully stingy with the details of why her parents had sent her away to finishing school, but then again—the other girls were just as quiet about their reason.

  The school was meant to teach young ladies to entertain and dazzle in society. Louisa was certain that some of the young ladies here were there for that very reason.

  But for Louisa, and some of the others, she suspected, the school had been a convenient place to stash the daughters they did not know what to do with.

  “There is not much to tell,” Louisa said now as they headed down the steps. “I embarrassed my father one time too many.” She held her fingers close together. “I’d come this close to being ruined, and that was the last straw.” She made a funny face that made Addie laugh. “He thought perhaps this school would help teach me how to stay out of trouble.”

  And keep me from embarrassing the family any further.

  “Has it?” Addie’s voice was filled with laughter because she knew the answer.

  Louisa feigned hurt at the question. “I never needed help on that front, thank you. As I explained to Reggie, that last incident, like all the ones before it, was merely a case of misunderstanding.”

  Sadly, her father had never given her an opportunity to fully explain that. Before she’d been able to lodge a protest, her father had her bags packed and the carriage called ‘round. Tonight, finally, she’d have a chance to explain. Surely by now her father had calmed down enough to see reason. “It really was just a misunderstanding,” Louisa said quietly, once more rehearsing what she’d say.

  “I see,” Addie said. “Because the gentleman in question thought you were a child, and you thought he…was a ghost.”

  She sighed at her friend’s amusement. “Exactly.”

  Addie patted her arm with a sidelong glance. “I am certain it happens to everyone.”

  Louisa let out a reluctant laugh at her friend’s teasing. Unlike Margaret, Louisa never had been able to take herself all that seriously, and she wasn’t about to begin now. “He was more like an apparition, really,” she said, her old irritation with the man still there even after six months. She lowered her voice to an ominous whisper. “An evil spirit.”

  Addie laughed. “Evil, hmm?”

  “Undoubtedly. I have no idea how I’d ever managed to confuse him with my dear Sir Edmond, even for one heartbeat.”

  Addie shook her head. “No, I can imagine. This deceased beau of yours sounds far more congenial.”

  “Doesn’t he, though?”

  They were both laughing by the time they reached the dining room. The other girls were already sitting down to eat, and Miss Grayson—the kind unmarried lady who ran the school—greeted them with a warm smile. “Just in time, girls. Have a seat.”

  Addie leaned over after she sat, her voice quiet so no one else could hear. “I’m dying of curiosity. Who was he?”

  Louisa was already distracted by the plate of food a servant offered. “Who was who, dear?”

  “The mystery man,” Addie said. “The gentleman who was not deceased and who’d decided to dance with you because—”

  “Because he thought I was a child,” Louisa finished with a frown. That still rankled. She might not have been the beauty that Margaret was, but she was definitely not a child.

  “Yes, him,” Addie said. “Who was it?”

  Louisa exhaled loudly. She did not wish to speak about the man—the mere memory of him made her surly. And the fact that he would most likely be her brother-in-law in the near future? That made her queasy.

  His presence in her life seemed to be unavoidable, which was unbearable to consider. That haughty manner, the high-handed way he’d shifted the blame, not to mention that high-and-mighty glare…

  Insufferable.

  “The Marquess of Tumberland,” she mumbled his name under her breath, not wanting to start Prudence or Delilah off on a tangent about eligible young gentlemen this early in the day. Once they got started, there was rarely an end.

  “What about Lord Tumberland?” It seemed Delilah had incredibly keen hearing when conversation turned to wealthy marquesses.

  “Nothing,” Louisa said at the same time Addie spoke.

  “Louisa thought he was a ghost.”

  Louisa grimaced as all eyes turned to her in question. “Only for a moment.” Then she smacked Addie’s arm, making her friend laugh all over again.

  Mercifully, the other girls decided to let the topic drop, no doubt believing it was a silly private joke amongst the two close friends.

  “Where have you been all morning, Louisa?” Prudence asked.

  Of all the girls here, Prudence was the least likely to ask this. As the resident goody-two-shoes she seemed to have an innate distaste for Louisa. She was always nice enough—she would not be so irritatingly good if she were impolite—but the tall girl with the chestnut hair always seemed to address her with pursed lips, as though perhaps she’d just finished sucking on a lemon.

  “Yes, we wanted to know what you would be wearing to tonight’s festivities,” Delilah added a
s she reached for her glass. The raven-haired beauty arched her perfect brows in a haughty manner, although the more Louisa got to know Delilah the more she realized that the entitled brat persona was just one part of her. The unpleasant part. But when she thought no one was watching, or when she felt one of the girls was in distress, she sometimes—very, very rarely—showed a crack in that princess armor, and Louisa was beginning to suspect that somewhere deep, deep inside all that gloriously fair skin and jet black hair was a heart of gold.

  Not that anyone would admit that aloud—most certainly not Delilah.

  Addie leaned over to Louisa in eager excitement. “Oh yes, please say you’ll be joining us this evening.”

  “I plan on wearing my blue gown,” Delilah said, not bothering to glance over as she made this announcement. “If you are joining, do not even think about wearing yours.”

  Louisa met Miss Grayson’s gaze across the table and they shared a small smile at Delilah’s expense. Louisa’s mother had sent a blue gown last month and it just so happened to bear a resemblance to Delilah’s.

  It had nearly meant the end of the rather odd, entirely singular, and exquisitely fragile new alliance amongst the girls of this house. Ever since Addie’s ordeal had been exposed and she’d been attacked in their own home weeks before, the girls had formed a truce. Maybe even a friendship.

  After a lifetime of being on her own, Louisa wouldn’t dream of letting a silly gown ruin that.

  Miss Grayson, who knew this very well, answered on her behalf. “You have nothing to fear, Delilah. Louisa sent the gown to the modiste and had her gown dyed a different color.”

  Delilah shot her a look of surprise and Louisa shrugged. “Blue has never been my color anyway.”

  This earned her a small, almost grudging smile from Princess Delilah, as Louisa had started to think of her.

  “You haven’t answered the question,” Prudence pointed out. “Will you be joining us at the Havershams for the musicale?”

  The Havershams were relatives of Addie and Reggie. While they’d offered to take Addie in once they learned of her true identity, Addie had opted to stay here where she felt like she had a home.

  A boon for Louisa, to be sure. She’d be missing Addie and Reggie terribly when they finally did leave. Though there was no doubt, Addie’s next home would be with the Earl of Tolston, and she’d been assured by both Addie and Tolston that she would always be welcome.

  “A musicale, hmm?” she asked, turning to face Addie. “Might I assume this is another occasion for Lord Tolston to swoon over you?”

  The other girls giggled as Addie blushed. “Perhaps,” she said with an adorably smug smile.

  Louisa laughed. “Well, much as I hate to miss watching my two favorite lovebirds gaze longingly at one another, I am afraid I shall have to miss it.”

  “Do you have other plans?” Prudence asked.

  Louisa nodded, hoping her smile wasn’t fading on her as nerves took hold. “My family is in town for the remainder of the season. They’ve only just arrived and would like for me to stop by for a visit.”

  This was…not quite a lie. It was not entirely the truth either. But to say ‘my family is in town and expressed no interest in seeing me’ sounded too depressing for her own ears. Definitely not something she needed to share with others.

  Besides, she was certain her mother and sister wished to see her—they were just not terribly effusive in their correspondence, that was all. But her mother had mentioned they’d be staying in tonight, and while that was hardly an invitation—a daughter didn’t need an invitation to sup with her own family. Everyone knew that.

  She was certain they would be happy to see her when she came to dinner. It would be a surprise.

  And really, who didn’t enjoy a good surprise?

  Chapter Two

  “Tell me again why we are dining with the Viscount of Torrent and his family?” Mr. Gregory Allen asked.

  Lawrence Rivulet, the Marquess of Tumberland, turned from looking out the window to see his friend from Eton lounging in his seat looking far worse for the wear after last night’s debaucherous evening at a gaming hell. “You did not have to join me, you know.”

  Gregory grinned. Even in his rough state, the younger man still looked happier than Lawrence had ever managed being on his best of days. “It was either this or get dragged along to a musicale with my cousin.”

  “I thought you got on well with Tolston,” Lawrence said.

  “Indeed, I do. But much as I enjoy watching the old man giddy and in love, even I draw the line at musicales. They bore me to tears.”

  Lawrence smirked. “They must be very dull, indeed, if dining with the viscount’s family sounds more enjoyable.”

  “Are you joking?” Gregory laughed. “They have a daughter who prances around with ghosts in her nightgown. They sound far more entertaining.”

  Lawrence scowled over at his longtime friend. “I told you that in confidence.”

  “And I have said naught to a soul,” Gregory said quickly.

  Lawrence huffed. “Then how is it I have heard whispers about that poor girl.”

  I thought he was a ghost! The memory of that night still made his lips twitch with mirth, even now, so many months later.

  It had been the most novel evening he could remember. Well, the evening up until that moment had been deadly dull, but there was nothing like a near-scandal with a pretty young lady in a nightgown to liven a situation.

  “You were not the only one in attendance,” Gregory reminded him. “Someone else must have talked.”

  He grunted in acknowledgment, vowing right then and there to give hell to whomever it was who’d spread the gossip about him and the young lady.

  The gossip wasn’t bad enough to ruin the poor lass, but it was enough to cause a stir, and no gossip was good gossip when it came to sweet, innocent debutantes and the ton.

  He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. It was regret, no doubt, that fed his determination to do right by the girl now, when he’d done such a bad job of it that night.

  In his defense, he’d been too taken aback by the oddity of the situation to do more than stammer a defense for his own actions. The moment he’d realized his mistake, he’d been beset by shock and horror. The implications of what he’d done—of what he had appeared to have done…

  “Much as I’d love to meet the daft girl, I thought you weren’t terribly fond of the viscount and his family.” Gregory held up a finger. “Enchanting midnight dancers aside, that is.”

  Lawrence fought a grin and lost. Enchanting, that was one word for the redhead with the big green eyes and the fetching freckles. He rubbed a hand over his face, wiping away the smile. “I’m not terribly keen on them but they own the property next to mine and rumor has it, he’s looking to sell a portion of his estate.”

  “Rumor has it he is bankrupt,” Gregory said bluntly.

  Lawrence dipped his head in acknowledgement. “That too.”

  “So, he is looking for you to buy his land?” he asked.

  “It would appear that way,” he hedged.

  “Are you interested in buying the land?” Gregory asked.

  He shrugged. “If we can come to an agreeable arrangement.”

  “Hmmph.” Gregory regarded him steadily. “Would this arrangement involve you marrying his daughter?”

  Lawrence’s mind automatically called up bright red hair and equally red cheeks. “What? No. Of course not.”

  Gregory held his hands up. “No need to get worked up, old chap. I’m just drawing logical conclusions. You are neighbors, they are a good family—minus one odd black sheep,” he added with a wicked grin. “Word is the eldest daughter is quite pretty.”

  “Mmm.” Lawrence honestly had nothing else to say on the matter, not because he disagreed, only because…he could not remember. He had a vague memory of blonde hair and a simpering smile during the soiree he’d attended at their country estate months earlier. But, for the life of him, he could n
ot recall if they had talked and, if so, what they’d discussed.

  Truth be told, the only vivid memory he carried from that night was the unexpected sight of a redhead dancing, which had been followed closely by the startling shock of realizing he’d made a massive mistake.

  Lawrence dropped his head back against the seat with a sigh. If he could turn back time, he’d do it all over again.

  This time, when he walked into the supposedly empty ballroom to snatch up the last of his drink, he’d take one look at the ethereal vision floating across the floor and then he would run.

  That’s what he should have done.

  Instead, he’d stood there like a fool, watching her.

  Whether it was the alcohol in his system, or the dim candlelight, or the way her hair had fallen down her back in a long braid, or the way she was padding around barefoot… He’d gotten it into his head that she was a child. Some delightfully enchanting young girl dancing clumsily as she spoke to her make-believe partner.

  He should have waited until she’d spun around so he could see her face, not to mention the soft swell of her curves, which were unabashedly clear when he’d viewed her face-to-face a little later.

  But instead of doing anything right, he’d taken one look, decreed her a child, and had thought to make her laugh by dancing with her.

  He had not made her laugh.

  Indeed, he was fairly certain he’d ruined her night, her father’s good favor, and any chance that he might have had of walking away from her father’s pleas to buy his land.

  It was one thing to turn away from a neighbor who’d fallen on hard times. It was quite another to turn one’s back on the man who’d forgiven him for embracing his scantily clad daughter. Alone, no less. And in the middle of the night.

  “What’s that sigh for?” Gregory asked.

  Lawrence opened his eyes just as the carriage slowed on a quiet, tree-lined street. “Just that I’m fairly certain this deal is done, whether I want it or not. I’m hardly in a position to argue when the viscount forgave me so easily for that ridiculous debacle.”