The School of Charm: Books 1-5

by Maggie Dallen

  She set her cup down gently. It was not as though this was a surprise. She’d always known this day would come. This was her price to pay. After eighteen years of receiving everything a girl could wish—everything of material value, at least—it was now time to see through her duty.

  “You shall be pleased to hear that Lord Everley is exceedingly wealthy,” her stepmother said, all brisk business as though Delilah’s life was not crashing down around her ears.

  Indeed, Delilah had no doubt her stepmother was relishing this moment.

  Delilah’s mother had died during childbirth. Young and fragile, by all accounts, her mother had suffered numerous miscarriages and Delilah did not doubt that she suffered mightily from her father’s displeasure at being left heirless.

  Delilah often suspected that her mother was blessed to have died when she did, not knowing that her last act on this earth had been the greatest disappointment of all.

  She’d at last delivered a child, and it had been a useless girl.

  Her stepmother had been glad of it, no doubt. It gave her the chance to provide the son her father so desperately desired.

  But fate was not so kind to this family.

  And so it was that Delilah was given everything she wished. She was spoiled, she would be the first to admit it. Her father and stepmother handed her over to a steady stream of nursemaids, governesses, and tutors, until she’d grown old enough to attend finishing school.

  All of that learning, the skills and the manners, the jewels, the balls, and the best gowns money could buy—it had all been for this.

  So that she might snare a husband of great fortune.

  “A baron,” she mused, as though she were referring to someone else’s future husband and not her own. “I thought Father had his sights set higher.”

  The slight twitch of the baroness’s lips might have been a smile, if she were capable of such a thing. “Are you disappointed?” She eyed Delilah as though just seeing her now for the first time. “Did you expect to marry an earl?” She laughed without humor. “My, someone thinks well of herself.”

  She ignored the jab. Sharp words that used to prick her sensitive skin as a child, now bounced off of her skin, thanks to a thick layer of scars. “I merely meant that Father had always said—”

  “Your father wished for a marriage that would ensure his family had nothing to fear financially. Lord Everley can and will provide that comfort.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “Are you disappointed?” Her stepmother’s voice was mild. Distantly curious, at best, as she eyed Delilah over the edge of her teacup.

  Was she disappointed? That her father had just sold her to the highest bidder? No. That was to be expected. Was she horrified at the idea of spending the rest of her days with a man who might be more cruel than her own family?

  Yes.

  She met her stepmother’s gaze evenly. “Of course not.”

  That horror, the sinking sensation, the heartache that made her chest feel too small…

  She held her stepmother’s gaze as she forced that all aside. She pushed it down—far, far down. So deep inside her that she was finally able to tilt her lips up in the small, satisfied smile she’d so expertly perfected when she was nine years old. “I am certain this marriage will be quite satisfactory.”

  A little while later, when the carriage was to be drawn ‘round to return her to the school, she found she could not do it. She could not go back to the school and her friends and their kind concern.

  Here in this house, facing her stepmother, she could actually believe her own words. The marriage would be satisfactory. After all, Everley was a man of means. Her father had chosen him. He might not be kind, but he was nothing she could not handle.

  Delilah pushed her shoulders back and tilted her chin up. This was what she was meant for. This was her purpose, and she would make it work.

  She would build the perfect life, even if her husband wasn’t the man of her choosing.

  “You must be eager to return,” her stepmother said. “You will wish to share your good news with your friends, I am certain.”

  Whether her stepmother was in earnest or taunting her was difficult to determine. Either way, it did not matter because she found she was quite incapable of moving toward the door.

  After an hour of wishing to flee, she could not do it.

  The thought of their reactions… The way Addie would look at her with alarm, how Prudence would scowl and pester, how Miss Grayson’s eyes would fill with sympathy, how Louisa would… Well, Louisa would be Louisa.

  No. She could not face their questions nor their censure.

  Most of all, she could not face their pity.

  “Do you know…” she started slowly. “With all the preparations that will need to be made before the wedding. Might it not be best if I stay here at home until the wedding?”

  If her stepmother was surprised, she did not let on. “If that is what you wish.”

  It was not what her stepmother wished, that much was clear.

  Delilah didn’t much relish the idea of being under this roof again, either. But the alternative was so much worse so she said, “That is what I wish.”

  Her stepmother sniffed. “Then so be it.”

  Chapter Two

  Rupert Calloway might have been the second son of the Marquess of Markland, but few would ever know it.

  “A Mr. Calloway is here to see you, sir.”

  Rupert overheard the butler as he rudely followed in the servant’s wake. But really, the Earl of Tolston had been the one to summon him and had demanded he arrive in haste.

  Surely he was not meant to wait in the foyer. And aside from all that…

  “Rupert!” Tolston shouted his name as he bounded toward the door.

  Rupert grinned. Aside from that—they were old friends.

  Tolston embraced him in a hug that ended with him pounding his back. “Good to see you again.” Tolston gestured for him to take a seat. “And thank you for coming at such short notice.”

  Rupert followed the other man into the center of the room as the butler made his exit. “For you? Anything.” He fell into the seat, weary after a long day of travel. “I must admit, I was surprised at the suddenness of it all.”

  Tolston sank into the seat across from him with a sigh. “You know that I’ve been looking into Lord Everley…”

  Rupert nodded, his smile fading fast as his eyes narrowed. He had a history with Everley, and Tolston knew it. “You should have brought me in from the start.”

  After all, this was what he did. Investigating the wrongdoings of the high and mighty had become his specialty.

  Tolston gave a rueful scoff. “And put Everley on high alert? That was the last thing I wanted.”

  Rupert wished he could argue. These days he went about his business with subtlety and tact. Sometimes even with subterfuge. But years ago, when Everley had callously stolen his friend from him…

  Well, he hadn’t the wherewithal to lie low. He’d shouted his suspicions from the rooftops, making an enemy out of Everley, and destroying any chance he might have had to get close enough to destroy the man in kind.

  Rupert leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why now?” he asked. “What has changed?”

  Tolston’s expression hardened and he looked every bit his age and his station—no hint of the boy he’d been when Rupert first met him during their school days. “He’s getting married.”

  Rupert’s brows arched in surprise. From the way he’d said it, marriage sounded like a deadly affair. Understanding dawned. “Is his bride-to-be a friend of yours? Family, perhaps?”

  Tolston shook his head. “Not quite. I’ve met the girl on multiple occasions, but she is a friend to my fiancée.” His brows drew down into a fierce glare. “Which makes her a friend to me.”

  “I see,” Rupert said.

  Quite honestly, he did not see. He’d never been engaged, and he wasn’t certain he wished to be if
it led a man to be quite so earnest about anything.

  Rupert leaned back in his seat. “So you wish to disrupt this wedding,” he surmised. “Have you thought about telling the girl’s family of your suspicions about Everley?”

  Tolston winced. “No. Mainly because at this point, that is all they are. Suspicions. Despite my men and I looking for evidence, everything we’ve found that points to Everley’s cruelty is circumstantial, at best. He covers his tracks well.” Tolston’s lips curved up in a sneer. “Unfortunately the man’s soulless use of his wealth and power, lending money to those who are too weak and vulnerable to see the sort of trap he’s leading them into… It isn’t enough. Cruelty is no crime, and from what I know of Delilah’s father…”

  “Delilah?” Rupert said.

  “Miss Delilah Clemmons,” Tolston said. “Only child to the Baron of Linden.”

  Rupert grimaced.

  “I see you are familiar with him.”

  “Only as a passing acquaintance,” Rupert said. But that was enough to know that the man was as greedy as they came. The only man who came close to Everley in terms of merciless ambition. “I’d thought the old man passed away years ago.”

  Tolston gave a little grunt of acknowledgement. “It seems he’s been threatening to die for years now, but the old bugger won’t let go.” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “He won’t shuffle off this mortal coil until he’s certain that his family is well taken care of.”

  Rufus furrowed his brow in concentration as he tried to reconcile the hard old man he remembered from his youth with this image of fatherly devotion. “He’s that committed to his family and their happiness, eh?”

  Tolston snorted in amusement. “Good heavens, no. It’s his pride at work, I’d imagine.”

  Rupert nodded. That was far easier to imagine. “And so he has handed over his only daughter to the devil himself to ensure that she is well taken care of.”

  “That is my best guess,” Tolston said.

  They sat in silence for a moment. Rupert couldn’t speak to Tolston’s thoughts, but for his part he was stewing in pity for this girl. “Young, is she?”

  Tolston nodded. “Slightly younger than Addie, my bride-to-be, and Addie is nineteen.”

  Rupert took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had no sisters, but he had female cousins he was close to, and he couldn’t imagine allowing any of them near a gentleman like Everley. “Terrible,” he muttered. “I can see why you feel a sense of urgency to stop Everley before he weds.” He shook his head. “It’s horrible to think of a sweet, innocent young lass in the clutches of one such as he.”

  Tolston’s burst of laughter had Rupert’s head snapping up, his eyes widening in surprise. “Did I say something amusing?”

  Tolston clearly worked to sober himself as he gave his head a shake. “No, no. Of course not. It is just…” He let out another choked laugh. “It is just hard to imagine anyone describing Delilah as ‘sweet’ or ‘innocent’.”

  Rupert’s brows hitched up further in surprise.

  “Not to say that she isn’t...an innocent, that is,” Tolston said quickly. “She is a proper young lady, of that there is no doubt.”

  Rupert laughed as well as he realized what his old friend was trying to say in his roundabout way. “But she is not sweet.”

  Tolston snickered. “Not as such, no.”

  Rupert arched a brow. “A bit of a cold fish?”

  “I wouldn’t say that…”

  “A nag, then,” he guessed. Honestly, now he was just having fun putting his old, slightly stodgy friend on the spot.

  “Oh quit it,” Tolston said with a huff. “I shall not speak ill of my wife’s schoolmate. Despite Delilah’s…haughty demeanor she has proven to be a loyal friend to Addie.”

  “Haughty demeanor.” Rupert leapt on the phrase. That gave him a clear impression, indeed. Knowing what he knew of her father, Rupert could easily believe that the girl would be spoiled and arrogant.

  And if she bore his resemblance in any way, she’d be remarkably plain, to boot. Which made him wonder… “Just what is Everley getting out of this match?”

  The last of Tolston’s humor faded fast. “That is exactly what I wish to know.”

  Rupert studied his friend. His normally stoic features were creased in concern, his posture tensed as though ready to spring into action.

  Tolston was normally so calm, so unreadable and seeing him agitated was alarming. Tolston’s fears were understandable if he knew the girl in question. But still…

  Rupert knew from experience how dangerous it could be to be emotionally involved during an investigation. Emotions only clouded the issue, it made it impossible to act with reason and logic.

  Which was why it was for the best that he’d arrived when he had. He’d learned how to keep an emotional distance while working an investigation like this one, even if there was a damsel in distress.

  Especially if there was a damsel in distress.

  “Has anyone tried talking to the girl herself,” he said.

  “Delilah? No.” Tolston’s brows drew down. “Addie and her friends have been trying ever since they received their invitations to the engagement ball.”

  “She hasn’t received them?”

  Tolston gave his head a quick shake. “Either she’s avoiding them, or…”

  Rupert made a growling sound in the back of his throat. “Or she’s being kept away.”

  “Precisely. We don’t know which, but either way, it’s been impossible to get to her. To warn her or help her or…” Tolston rand a hand through his hair in impatience. “Addie is beside herself with worry, and I…” Tolston flashed a rueful, nearly desperate smile. “I’m afraid that I cannot abide that. I cannot bear to see Addie upset.”

  Rupert was momentarily stunned into silence. He’d never known his old friend to care about anyone or anything to this degree. But then again, he’d never seen his friend in love before, either.

  Poor sap.

  “When is the engagement ball?” Rupert asked.

  “Two days from now.”

  Rupert frowned. That didn’t give him much time to wrap his head around the current investigation. “And the wedding?”

  “Three weeks hence.”

  Rupert cursed under his breath. “Then we must act quickly.”

  “Exactly. That is why I asked you to come. If there’s anyone who knows the extent of the danger, it is you. And you know how Everley thinks, how he acts.”

  Rupert grunted his agreement. For better or for worse. He’d spent months trying to prove that Everley had murdered his younger cousin, Lyle. The heir to the title that Everley now bore, Lyle was Everley’s rival…and Rupert’s closest friend.

  As good as a brother, really.

  “Do you think you could help?” Tolston asked.

  Rupert met his friend’s gaze evenly. His heart began to pound with determination. “I will do everything in my power to bring Everley to his knees before he has a chance to wed your fiancée’s friend.”

  Tolston’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’ll do anything I can to assist you. Just tell me what you’ll need.”

  Rupert rested back in his seat as he crossed his arms and stared into the distance, his mind racing to come up with a plan. “First and foremost…” He turned to his friend. “I’ll need admittance to the engagement ball.”

  Tolston nodded. “Consider it done.”

  Chapter Three

  The room seemed to be spinning as Delilah made her way through the crowd.

  “You look so beautiful, darling.” An older woman who smelled of licorice and talcum powder kissed the air beside both her cheeks.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. Her hair felt too heavy, her face strained from smiling. The party had only just begun, and she already felt exhaustion creeping in.

  The gown was cinched too tight, and her breath came in short bursts as she made her way slowly through the crush.

  Where was she heading?

&n
bsp; To her betrothed, she presumed. She had yet to speak to him alone. It had been weeks since she’d discovered she was engaged to Lord Evil—no, Lord Everley.

  Blasted Louisa with her silly nicknames.

  It had been weeks and she’d yet to see her fiancé.

  Was that normal?

  Ought not an engagement begin with a courtship?

  Apparently not, as far as her betrothed was concerned. He’d come to the house to discuss the details of her dowry, but left before she was able to see him.

  Pressing business, her father’s solicitor had explained when he’d come into the drawing room to make Everley’s excuses.

  Had he known that she’d been waiting for him?

  Had he cared?

  She shoved the questions aside. Likely not, and that did not matter. This was no love match, and she’d never expected it to be. Other girls might have spent their childhoods dreaming of fairy tales and romance, but not she.

  She certainly would not begin now.

  The room seemed to swim around her and a trickle of sweat made its way down her neck.

  It was stiflingly hot in here; she couldn’t breathe properly.

  And the people.

  She’d never minded crowds before, but today…tonight…

  She itched to tug off her clinging gloves. She had an overwhelming urge to take off her slippers, let her hair down, and…run.

  Just run.

  She clasped her hands together and focused on her breathing. It was just emotions talking. Nerves, most likely. After all, it wasn’t every day one attended one’s own engagement party.

  She looked around her, a small smile plastered in place as it had been for the past two hours. Some faces she recognized, but not many.

  Everley was popular, it seemed.

  Her mind flashed back to earlier in the summer when Louisa had overheard him talking.

  Perhaps he wasn’t popular. Maybe he was just feared. Maybe everyone here owed him something. Perhaps, like Louisa’s father, these partygoers were at his mercy now that they’d handed him their fate.

  Just like her father had handed him hers.