The School of Charm: Books 1-5

by Maggie Dallen

  Gregory laughed. “Do you think he forgave his daughter so easily?”

  Lawrence winced at the memory of her expression in the face of her father’s rage. “I’m sure he got over it in time,” he said.

  Not that he’d been of any help.

  It was guilt, plain and simple, that had him hoping she’d be there tonight so he could see for his own eyes how well she’d recovered after that night.

  Lawrence leaned forward in his seat to try and catch sight of the townhouse the viscount had rented for the season. A new eagerness had him itching to open the carriage door the moment it came to a stop.

  “My, my,” Gregory drawled. “Are you so very eager to attend a dull dinner party…or to see viscount’s beautiful daughter?”

  Lawrence glared over at his friend. “I’m not here for the girl,” he started, even as his mind rushed to envision what the bright-eyed redhead looked like with her hair up and wearing a gown—

  “I wouldn’t blame you in the least,” Gregory said quickly. “Like I said, Miss Margaret is said to be quite the beauty.”

  Margaret. He stared at his friend in confusion for a moment. Then once again he had a vague image of blonde hair and an ever-present smile.

  Ah yes. Margaret.

  “I am not here for Margaret,” he said.

  Gregory’s smile turned irritatingly annoying.

  “Or any other young ladies who happen to be here.”

  “Whatever you say,” Gregory murmured.

  Lawrence leaned forward to open the carriage door when it came to a halt, but turned quickly to jab a finger in his friend’s face. “Whatever you do, do not go in here making insinuations to embarrass the poor girl. She’s already been through enough.”

  Gregory’s eyes widened. “I would not dream of it.”

  Just as Lawrence was turning away, Gregory mumbled, “Besides, I hear she’s only interested in dead men, anyway.”

  Chapter Three

  Louisa had to admit, she’d expected her family to be slightly more enthusiastic at the sight of her. Instead, they were eyeing her in the drawing room like she was some sort of puzzle.

  “So you just…decided to visit,” her mother said, trying and failing, it seemed, to grasp the situation. Her brows were knit in confusion as though this was truly a stunning turn of events.

  “That’s right.” Louisa’s smile never faltered. “You’d said you would be staying in this evening and so—”

  “You told her that?” Her father addressed her mother, making it sound like an accusation.

  “Yes, well…” Her mother clutched at her pearls. “I did not realize she would take that as an invitation.”

  Louisa—the she in question—tried not to be hurt. Truly she did. Clearly surprising her family had not been the best tactic. She glanced over at her sister and received a tepid smile in response. Not exactly a warm welcome but better than anything her mother and father had managed to muster.

  Looking at the three of them, standing there like some fair-haired portrait of domestic bliss, she felt more like an outsider than she cared to admit. The odd man out, that was she. Flaming red hair while they were blond, short and curvy where they were tall and willowy, loud and prone to sticking her foot in her mouth where they were quiet and dignified…

  The list went on and on, really.

  “You needn’t worry,” she said, aiming for a teasing tone. “If there is not enough food to spare, I shall be just fine with a bit of bread and cheese.”

  Silence.

  Her smile started to feel strained. Her cheeks ached with the effort to pretend that her feelings weren’t hurt by this cold reception.

  Margaret was the first to break it by stepping forward and embracing her stiffly. “It is good to see you, Lulu.”

  The use of her old nickname gave her a much needed dose of warmth. She and Margaret had never been close, but this was still her sister, and her sister truly was kind at heart. Too kind to let Louisa feel unwelcome.

  “Of course you are welcome.” Her mother’s smile looked strained, her gaze flustered as she looked from Louisa to her husband and back again.

  Louisa too turned her gaze to her father. It was true they had not parted on the best terms when she’d last seen him, but he was her father and he loved her. She knew this to be true.

  He seemed to remember it at the same time as she and the hard lines of his face creased into a rueful smile. “Louisa, you know you are always welcome with your family…”

  He trailed off.

  A ‘however’ seemed to hang quietly in the air amongst them. Another awkward exchange of looks between her parents and her sister.

  Her mother turned to face her with a grimace. “It is just that…this particular evening is perhaps not the best time for a visit.”

  “Any other evening,” her sister added quickly, her brows high with an optimistic look that fooled no one. Least of all Louisa.

  She was not wanted here.

  Louisa’s throat swelled, her chest ached. But her smile grew more brilliant than ever with false cheer. “I see,” her voice was too breathy but she managed to sound upbeat. “I understand completely.”

  She did not understand. Not at all. But her pride was stinging and she hated the glimpses of pity she caught from her sister, her mother…even her father.

  “I will just, uh…” Too late she realized that she’d sent away the school’s carriage. It had not occurred to her that she might need to flee her family’s home on such short notice.

  How thoughtless of her.

  Her father seemed to understand her predicament. “I shall have Mrs. Martin escort you home.”

  Home. Her eyes stung but she widened them farther, not wanting her father to see how much it hurt that he’d referred to a finishing school as her home. Is my home not here with you?

  She bit back the question because the answer was clear.

  No. Apparently not.

  “I will have the carriage brought around,” her father said, moving toward the door of the drawing room with rare speed.

  “I shall go tell Mrs. Martin to be ready,” her mother said, off to find their long-time housekeeper.

  And then Louisa was alone with Margaret, the beloved daughter. The great blonde hope for a good match. The daughter who did not cause scandals wherever she went and who never once embarrassed their parents—accidentally or otherwise.

  “Well, I hope you enjoy your evening,” Louisa managed, already moving to follow her parents to let them know there was no need to bring her ride around. She could go to the carriage house on her own. She could slink out the back like a burglar or a thief.

  “Wait,” Margaret said, her voice a little too loud.

  Louisa paused in the doorway.

  “Please, do not leave like this,” Margaret said.

  Kind, noble Margaret. She was twisting her gloved hands together in agitation when Louisa turned to face her. She looked prettier than ever, Louisa noticed. She was wearing a shimmering new gown that suited her willowy figure, and her hair was done in an intricate design. Standing there in the middle of the room alone, with her hands clasped demurely—Margaret looked like perfection.

  Louisa was reminded of a doll she’d received as a present when she was a child—the thing had been so delicate, so dainty, so perfect. Not a hair out of place. It’s porcelain skin unblemished…

  Until Louisa got her hands on it.

  Louisa had wrecked that doll, and she had a feeling she was being sent away now so she could not do the same to Margaret.

  Her sister looked pained now—filled with regret because of course Louisa had not done a decent job of hiding her hurt.

  Margaret would have been able to hide her pain.

  Louisa never had learned how to do that.

  “It is all right, Margaret,” she said with a small smile. “I understand.”

  Margaret finally broke her perfect pose and hurried over to her. “I do not think that you do, Lulu.”


  Louisa huffed. Her nickname had been a nice reminder of their familial bond just a moment ago, but now it spoke to her being the younger sister. It made her feel like a child. She sniffed and tilted her chin up. “Then why don’t you explain it to me?”

  Margaret’s expression grew strained as she looked from Louisa to the door where their parents had just left. “They need me to make a good match, you know that.”

  Louisa nodded. This was hardly news. All anyone had been talking about since Margaret made her debut last season was how wonderful a match she was sure to make.

  Granted, she hadn’t yet, but that didn’t stop everyone from fussing over Margaret, praising her constantly for being such an elegant and poised young lady, not to mention such a beauty.

  Margaret licked her lips. “You don’t understand, Louisa.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, meaningfully. “They need me to make a good match.”

  Louisa blinked as her words took on a new meaning. “Are you saying…” She inhaled sharply, her brain putting pieces together to form a whole new picture. “Does this mean…”

  Margaret regarded her steadily, waiting for her to catch up. The short season this year, the rented townhouse because theirs had been sold, the noticeable lack of staff these past few years, the dinner parties and soirees last year at which her father spent most of the time locked in an office with the other gentlemen.

  It all came back to her at once and the individual memories seemed to collide together. The pieces of a puzzle forming a whole picture at last.

  Louisa met Margaret’s gaze evenly. “How bad is it?”

  Margaret’s expression was so strained, her lips pressed tight together as she shrugged. “Honestly, I do not know. I only know what I’ve overheard or pieced together.”

  Louisa nodded, her insides deflating oddly with guilt and shame. How had Margaret gleaned that her parents were facing financial difficulties when she had not?

  A whole new thought occurred to her as she heard servants bustling about in the other room. “You have guests this evening,” she said, stating the obvious.

  Margaret nodded, her gaze holding hers steadily.

  “Who is it?”

  “The Marquess of Tumberland and his friend.”

  Louisa bit her lip, a surge of heat creeping into her cheeks at the mere mention of his name. She’d heard countless times that he would be the ideal match for Margaret, but now those words, which had seemed like idle gossip at the time, took on a new significance.

  “Is he courting you?” Louisa blurted out.

  Now it was Margaret’s turn to blush and she glanced around the room as if gossipmongers might be hiding behind the credenza. “No, Lulu,” she said, her voice resigned. “Not yet, at least.”

  Louisa caught a flicker of determination in her sister’s eyes and her own eyes widened in surprise. She’d heard her sister talk about eligible men for years now, but she’d never seen this side of her before. She looked resigned. Determined, even.

  It was…impressive, really.

  “Do you like him?” Louisa asked.

  “Louisa, please.” Margaret said this with an exasperated huff, as though the question were ridiculous.

  For what felt like the millionth time this year alone, Louisa got the sense that she and her sister were speaking different languages. Louisa felt that liking one’s intended was rather pertinent, indeed.

  But clearly Margaret was more focused on marrying to save their coffers, and that Louisa had to admire even if she could not quite comprehend it.

  She’d always thought her sister was merely obsessed with gaining status and riches and running her own house, but she was starting to think that perhaps she’d been judging Margaret too harshly.

  Worse, she was starting to understand that perhaps she was the selfish one in this family. She bit her lip as a surge of shame had tears stinging the back of her eyes all over again. “I’ve never meant to be an embarrassment,” she said in a high, tight voice.

  Margaret sighed and her smile was weary. “I know, dear. We all know that. You’re just…” She flailed a hand. “You are you.”

  Louisa let out a choked laugh, one that sounded like a sputter and a sneeze at once. It was the sort of sound Margaret would never make, not even in private, and just one more reminder of how badly Louisa represented her family.

  Well, no more.

  Louisa straightened her shoulders. She would just have to change, that was all. There was no time like the present to start fresh and make a new name for herself. She was currently living at a finishing school, for heaven’s sake. There could be no better place for her right now.

  “I wish I could do something to help,” she said.

  Margaret reached out and squeezed her hand. “I did not mean to make you fret, Lulu. I just wanted to explain why we acted the way we did when you showed up here so unexpectedly.”

  Louisa nodded, her chest still aching with humiliation and shame, but at least now she understood why she’d not been wanted. If there was anyone who could ruin the marquess’s good opinion of Margaret and this family…it was she.

  Louisa cringed at the memory of their one and only meeting. He must think her a lunatic…or a child.

  Or both.

  Ugh, was it any wonder they wanted her far, far away from tonight’s visitors? Especially when Margaret was looking so lovely and Louisa was—

  “They are here!” Her mother rushed into the room with more frantic haste than Louisa had ever seen her exhibit before. Which honestly, wasn’t much. Even in a tizzy, her mother kept her composure. Just like Margaret.

  Too bad Louisa hadn’t seemed to inherit any of that innate grace and poise.

  Louisa held back a sigh. There would be plenty of time for self-pity when she was back at the school, comfortable and cozy with Reggie and the housekeeper while the other girls enjoyed an evening at the musicale.

  At least there she had Reggie, and it was nearly impossible to get into trouble.

  She headed over to Margaret and gave her a quick squeeze. Two hugs in one evening was a new record for the Purchase girls, but this was a night of new understandings. Her sister was acting on behalf of the family, and Louisa would do anything she could to help.

  Right now that meant leaving, and not reminding the mighty marquess of the odd little sister who darkened the family’s good name. “Good luck,” she whispered to her sister.

  Margaret gave her a tight smile and they both started when their father came bounding into the room, buzzing with energy. Nervous energy.

  Her father was nervous. Scared, even.

  Louisa felt it to her core, and had to clench her fists at her sides to keep from running over to her father and wrapping her arms around his neck. A selfish part of her was desperate to apologize for adding to his troubles, and a daughterly love made her want to comfort him in whatever way she could.

  She sniffed as she headed toward the door of the drawing room with new determination. This was the dawn of a new day. She was officially saying goodbye to her own selfish, childish desires, and embracing her new role in this family.

  She lifted her chin as she reached her father. “I will leave, Father, and I will ensure that Lord Tumberland never sees me.”

  Her father’s brows hitched up in surprise—no doubt at her very serious tone. This was a new side of her he’d never seen, but he would have to get used to it. She clapped a hand on his shoulder as she passed. “I wish you all the best this evening.”

  “Er…thank you, Louisa.”

  She could not blame him for being confused by her behavior. He had yet to experience this new and improved, serious, polished, docile, and oh-so-mature Louisa. But soon he would know her well.

  He started to follow her, but she flashed him a reassuring smile. “I shall see myself out. You must see to your guests.”

  “Oh, uh…all right then.”

  In the hallway, she headed toward the servants’ entrance in the back. There was no way she would risk running i
nto the marquess and his friend by going out the front door.

  There was a bustle of activity going on in the back of the house as the servants prepared for this monumental dinner. She greeted the servants she recognized, stopping briefly to introduce herself to the ones she did not know. By the time she reached the back entrance, she was certain she could slip away without being seen…

  Until she saw it. The vat of hot water that was currently blocking her escape.

  “Apologies, my lady,” the cook said. “I’ll have Johnny move it shortly.”

  And interfere with the industrious activity that would ensure a smooth and orderly meal? She thought not. “No need, I shall find another way out.”

  “I’ve had the groomsman bring the carriage around to the side of the house as your father requested,” the butler informed as she passed.

  Excellent. The side of the house was ideal—little more than an alley in which she could skulk off like a thief in the night.

  She fought a grin. This was a serious matter, after all. Not an adventure. Certainly not.

  And yet her heart was thudding loudly in her chest at the excitement of trying to escape. She could hear voices in the main hallway, her family gathering to greet their visitors, no doubt.

  A little exploration showed that she could either go back the way she’d come or climb out through the study window, which led directly to the alley.

  The voices grew louder as servants rushed past her toward the front door.

  Her heart leapt with the danger of it all. The excitement!

  No, not the excitement. She was a dutiful daughter, that was all. And no one would want her to reappear at the front entrance now—not when the marquess would be entering at any moment.

  She glanced out the window—not a bad jump, really. Louisa stood back and brushed her hands on her skirt as she prepared to hoist the window. No, not a bad jump at all. She could handle it easily.

  Besides, this was what a dutiful daughter would do.

  Chapter Four

  “You know, we could turn back,” Gregory said as he and Lawrence loitered in front of the townhouse, making no move to knock.