The School of Charm: Books 1-5

by Maggie Dallen

  Ridiculous, really. She had far too many concerns in front of her to be smiling like a dolt over this man’s brash morning behavior.

  It was rather endearing to see him ill at ease, though. Their every other encounter had left her feeling as though she were an overly sensitive shrill beast in the face of his calm, laid-back demeanor.

  This morning he looked far more like a bear than a man.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asked warily.

  She gave her head a shake and wiped any trace of a smile from her lips. “I just didn’t know you were so disgruntled in the mornings, that is all.”

  He grunted again and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even further. “Yes, well. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” His glower seemed to indicate that this was her fault, and the urge to smile died as surely as her smile.

  Oh.

  She shifted uncomfortably under his glare.

  He’d been up thinking about her plight, no doubt. Perhaps wondering just how he’d gotten stuck with an ungrateful brat when he’d only been hired to investigate Everley.

  Or maybe he’d been regretting that kiss.

  The thought stung.

  Or wishing he could take back his proposal.

  That cut like a knife.

  She fiddled with a ribbon on her gown and avoided looking directly at his furrowed expression. Of those options, she supposed she preferred the first so she chose to address that. “I will compensate you for your efforts, of course.”

  He stilled in the act of reaching for his tea. “Pardon me?”

  She licked her lips only to find that her entire mouth was as dry as the desert. “Perhaps I will have another cup of tea, after all,” she said, craning her neck as if she might find Mrs. Tate hiding behind the cupboard.

  “You will pay me,” he said slowly, his tone incredulous.

  “Er, yes,” she said, her voice pitching up at the end as though it were a question. She huffed in exasperation with herself. What was it about this man that brought out the worst in her?

  Where were her cool, pleasing manners that she wielded so handily around gentlemen of the ton? She’d spent a lifetime perfecting the art of prudent flirtation and tinkling laughter, only to have it fail her whenever this brute was in her presence.

  She cleared her throat, and tried again, with a small smile this time. “What I meant to say is…I realize that you were hired by Tolston for one particular job, and now you have been saddled with me.” She paused, humiliation threatening to stop her words altogether. “You went above and beyond the call of duty yesterday, and I would like to ensure that you receive proper compensation.”

  His glower never wavered and then after a heartbeat of studying her a flicker of amusement broke through that dour expression and he burst out in a laugh that had her cheeks bursting into flame.

  She kept her composure, however, as she clasped her hands in her lap. “I did not think I said anything so amusing.”

  He gave his head a little shake. “You will pay me,” he muttered again under his breath, like he still could not believe it.

  She opened her mouth to ask him just why he was laughing at her, but then she saw it.

  A flicker of hurt beneath the mirth.

  Oh drat. The words died on her tongue. She’d hurt his feelings.

  She bit her lip. She should be used to this feeling. Her tongue had a tendency to sting, even when she wasn’t trying to be mean. That was why Prudence had been her only friend for a while there, until Louisa and Addie had decided to overlook her flaws.

  Prudence never took her seriously. The others were learning not to.

  But this man…a man who looked so strong and…well, untouchable really. She couldn’t have hurt this man.

  Could she?

  She scrambled to think of a good apology, but apologizing had never been her strong suit. “I only meant—”

  “With what?” he interrupted.

  She blinked. “Pardon me?”

  He leaned forward slowly and she was reminded of a large cat, hunting its prey. “With what do you mean to pay me for saving your life and keeping you safe?”

  “Uh…” She swallowed at the predatory look in his eyes. Not cruel, like Everley, just…disconcerting. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at her with such intensity before, and certainly not a man.

  Definitely not a man she’d kissed.

  And there she went, thinking about that kiss again. Her cheeks must have been scarlet if the heat scorching her cheeks was any indication.

  “You are right, of course,” she said with as much humility as she could muster.

  It wasn’t much.

  She looked down at her lap as his meaning hit home. She came from wealth. She’d been spoiled with every gift she’d ever asked for. She only had to tell her nurse or governess what she desired, and it appeared as if by magic.

  But money…actual money…

  Her only wealth was in the form of a dowry. “I, uh…I…” She swallowed. “I could marry you.”

  His eyes flared wide, the amusement gone in a flash. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she knew what she was thinking and it made her want to cry.

  Was that why he’d offered to marry her the night before? Did he think he’d won himself a golden goose when he’d saved her life and potentially ruined her reputation?

  Even as she thought it, she kicked herself for thinking it. The man had been nothing but kind to her, she ought not be suspecting him of mercenary motives.

  Her gaze collided with his and she could not read him at all. He was staring at her with the same amount of intensity, but she could not read his thoughts.

  She forced the hurt feelings down. Deep, deep down to some hidden place where she might eventually pull them out and analyze them. But for now, this was a stranger who’d done right by her.

  Whether his offer to marry her had been fueled by a desire for her fortune or not, it did not matter.

  Besides, he had every right to wish for some sort of payment for the noble act he’d undertaken.

  It showed he was sensible, really.

  She tilted her chin up higher. “I do not know that my father would honor the dowry he’s promised to Everley. But I know he would ensure that I was well settled. And once he learned of the circumstances leading to the…the…”

  He arched his brows. “The marriage?” he offered.

  She nodded. “Once he understood that you’d saved my life, I am certain he would…provide handsomely.”

  She thought. She hoped. She bit her lip. Oh drat, what if he didn’t?

  Her father was not a warm man, and they had never been close. He took pride in having a beautiful, marriageable daughter who could ensure a good match.

  But if she couldn’t?

  What value did she have?

  She looked down at the table as the truth hit home.

  She had none.

  Not to her family, at least.

  Perhaps Mr. Calloway sensed the change in her, because he sighed from across the table. “Let us shelve all talk of compensation and marriage for the time being, shall we?” His voice sounded weary. “For now let us just focus on the task at hand, which is to keep you safe from harm.”

  She nodded, her throat still too choked to speak.

  “Come,” he said, his voice sounded far more normal—all gruff and low and at ease as he came to stand. “We shall visit your School of Charm and ensure that they understand your predicament. I’ve already told Tolston to meet us there.”

  She felt a smile tugging at her lips as she lifted her gaze. “It could not have been difficult to convince him. Lord Tolston will find any excuse to spend time with his future wife.”

  He smiled in return and she felt warm all the way through at the affection in his eyes.

  The awkwardness from a moment ago was gone, and they were back to being…

  Friends.

  Allies?

  Oh, whatever they were, they were back.


  Chapter Eleven

  Rupert tried not to notice the whispering that was taking place the other side of the door.

  Miss Grayson smiled kindly. “Do not mind the girls, they are just curious.” She glanced over at Delilah. “And worried.”

  Delilah looked away.

  “Tolston and I will only tell them as much as you wish to let them know,” Miss Grayson said to Delilah.

  Delilah sniffed, her haughty expression speaking volumes—to Rupert, at least. She was uncomfortable with Miss Grayson’s kindness, unused to being the object of concern.

  “Whatever you please,” Delilah said stiffly. “I leave it to your discretion.”

  Tolston, who’d arrived at the same time they had, looked to Delilah as well. “We will get to the bottom of this, Miss Clemmons.”

  She nodded, but her confidence was feigned. He could not blame her. Rupert had been trying to affix a crime to Everley’s name for years and had never made progress. What were the odds that they could do so now, with her wedding date looming in the not-too-distant future?

  Miss Grayson reached a hand out to Delilah but seemed to think better of it and snatched it back. “Should we not tell your father? Your stepmother?”

  Did Delilah have any idea how much her silence gave away? How her eyes spoke volumes even when she kept her mouth shut.

  She did not believe they would care, or maybe she just was not certain they would believe her. Either way, every time her family had been mentioned, she’d drawn into herself in a way that made Rupert want to rage.

  He could handle her anger, he now knew how to soothe her when she was frightened, but this… Her withdrawing into herself, not trusting the people around her with her emotions—it drove him mad.

  Specifically, it made him want to rail against the person or people who had instilled this level of distrust. Who had raised her to be a veritable hermit crab. All hard shell on the outside, and a soft underbelly she was terrified to expose.

  Miss Grayson and Tolston were waiting patiently for her to answer the direct question about her family, perhaps not realizing what a sensitive topic they’d touched upon.

  When he could stand it no longer, Rupert answered on her behalf. “I’ve advised Miss Clemmons to keep this business as confidential as possible for the time being. As her father is sick and ought not to suffer undue stress. I believe it would be for the best if we wait to speak to him until we have conclusive proof.”

  He looked over and found Delilah staring at him, her expression inscrutable.

  He turned back to the others. “We’re only sharing this information with you because we may need your help to keep Delilah’s reputation intact,” he said.

  Miss Grayson nodded. “Of course. We will do whatever you need.”

  Delilah stepped in with the details of the message she wished for Miss Grayson to send to her home. That she had decided to stay at the school for a while to see her friends.

  “Of course I will send that,” she said, concern tightening Miss Grayson’s pretty features. “But…to stay at the home of a bachelor, unchaperoned…”

  “It is not ideal,” Delilah said, her tone dry. “But it is where I am safe.”

  Rupert wasn’t certain, but he suspected his chest puffed to double its size at that show of confidence that he could keep her safe.

  He would.

  He had no doubt of that. He’d give his life before he let any harm come to her.

  But the fact that she knew it too—that was a boon to his pride.

  Once Miss Grayson was appeased and had gone off to her writing desk in the corner to compose the missive, Tolston turned the conversation back to more pressing business.

  “So, after all that…are we really no closer to having any proof that Everley is the man behind so many crimes?”

  Rupert sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

  Tolston gave Delilah a sidelong look that Rupert could well interpret. Time is running out.

  “We have plenty of circumstantial evidence,” Tolston said. “Perhaps with our testimony… I mean, having the Earl of Tolston and Lord—” He stopped himself when Rupert’s eyes narrowed. “Er, a distinguished fellow like yourself, Calloway.” Sitting back in his seat, Tolston crossed his arms over his chest. “Would that not be enough?”

  “I’m afraid not,” he muttered. Rupert was still shifting uncomfortably at the use of the title. It had been an age since he’d gone by the honorary title, and it didn’t sit right. It never had. Unlike his father and elder brother, he’d never seemed meant for the peerage. He was too big, too unrefined, too uninterested in societal politics, and even less interested in learning how to charm and persuade.

  He glanced over at Delilah to see if she had heard but she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.

  What would she think if she knew he was the second son of a marquess?

  He felt his lips quirk with rueful humor. Would she still offer to pay him? He’d admit, that had stung.

  Worse, would she offer to marry him like she was some commodity he might accept in lieu of coins?

  He gave his head a little shake. Delilah’s safety was what was at stake and he had to focus.

  Tolston heaved a weary sigh that echoed his sentiments exactly. “So then, what do we do next?”

  He’d been pondering that all night—well, when he wasn’t reliving that kiss. He’d tossed and turned the night before, torn between concern for her safety and the desire to wake her just so he could relive that kiss.

  “Unfortunately our best lead is at the docks, but we don’t have any specifics.” Rupert shook his head in irritation. “I still think our clues lie in his home somewhere—we know he conducts his business there. I had my chance to search and I failed.” He glanced over at Delilah. Not that he could call their first interaction a failure.

  It had been monumental. Life changing…

  But no help in the course of his investigation.

  “If we knew he’d be out of the house, I could attempt to break into his office again, I suppose,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. “But we’d need to know ahead of time that he’d be gone.”

  He was about to suggest they send someone to bribe a servant when Delilah chimed in.

  “Tomorrow evening.”

  Both men turned to look at her.

  “Pardon?” Tolston said.

  She licked her lips. “He has an appointment tomorrow evening with someone named Albert on Rivington Street. I saw it in his diary.”

  The gentlemen continued to stare at her in silence. Rupert’s brain clicked into gear for what felt like the first time since that kiss had addled him. Albert. Rivington. “What time?”

  Her gaze shifted upward as she searched her memory. “Nine o’clock.”

  He and Tolston exchanged a look.

  “Why? What is it?” Delilah asked.

  He couldn’t help it. He laughed. Tolston grinned as well. Rupert did not wish to put the cart before the horse, but his gut told him this was it.

  This was precisely the bit of information he’d been trying to find.

  “Why are you laughing?” Delilah demanded, her tone delightfully peevish. He turned to find her scowling at him and he laughed harder.

  Oh yes, he much preferred this Delilah. She was much more fun to tease.

  “I’m laughing at you, silly girl.”

  Her frown deepened and he leaned toward her with a grin. “You are absolutely brilliant, did you know that?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, a smile tugging at her lips as she gave him a look of wary amusement. “Of course I know that,” she shot back. She folded her hands primly. “But why exactly do you know that?”

  He and Tolston filled her in on the fact that Albert was the name of a dock and Rivington was street near the wharf that was lined with warehouses for storage.

  “You just asked if there was anything suspicious in his diary,” she muttered defensively. “How was I supposed to know any of this?”


  “You weren’t,” he assured her. “But now that we know…”

  “We can finally end this,” Tolston finished.

  The very thought of finally bringing justice to the man who murdered his best friend just to inherit the title…it should have brought a world of relief. His best friend’s so-call accident and Rupert’s suspicions around it were why he’d chosen this life in the first place.

  It had all begun with Everley, and Rupert’s inability to prove him responsible for murder.

  And now it was within his grasp and…

  He was worried.

  Blast it all. He was too worried to truly enjoy this new turn. His mind was already on Delilah, and what this would mean for her future.

  Chapter Twelve

  Delilah listened as the two men sketched out a plan for the following night.

  She was to stay here at the school as they and their men descended on Everley, hoping to catch him in the midst of a dastardly act.

  Mr. Calloway had assured her no less than ten times now that he’d have ample security posted at and around the school’s premises.

  “We will ensure that all of you are safe,” Tolston added.

  She had no doubt that Tolston would move heaven and hell to make sure that Addie was protected. Her gaze met Mr. Calloway’s and her breath caught in her throat when she realized…

  He would do the same for her.

  Annoying, uncalled for tears stung the back of her eyes.

  Mercy, what was happening to her? She was never this emotional about anything.

  She supposed nearly dying was a valid excuse.

  She dropped her gaze, unable to hold it any longer because… He would see.

  That was the thing about Mr. Calloway. He seemed to see everything. Too much. The way he’d been looking at her earlier, she’d wanted to get up out of her seat and run.

  Instead, she’d born Miss Grayson’s kindness and Tolston’s concern and Mr. Calloway’s…

  Well, she wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been feeling. She had no earthly idea what he even thought of her. But he was protective of her and seemed to genuinely care about her survival.

  Maybe even her happiness.