by Affair (lit)
Charlotte knew she could not argue with that observation. Her mother's experience with Lord Winterbourne and a career spent looking into the murky pasts of several callous gentlemen with so-called honorable intentions had left her with few illusions
about men.
That did not mean that she did not have a few lingering roman-
tic inclinations and the perfectly natural curiosity of a healthy young woman. Her memories of her parents' marriage were good ones, after all, and there were times when she would have given a
great deal to know the same kind of intimate happiness her mother had shared with her father.
But she was all too welt aware that the risks of marriage were
very great for a woman. She had no interest in the wedded state, which was )'List as well, given her age and circumstances, but she had toyed with the notion of a discreet affair.
Unfortunately, such things were easier to contemplate than they were to carry out. For one thing, it was difficult for a woman in her
situation to find a suitable man.
She did not move in social circles. She did not receive InvitatIODs and Introductions. The handful of respectable gentlemen who had entered her life over the years had failed to Inspire any strong emotions in her. Many, such as MarcJe, had been much too old. Others had simply been uninspiring.
It seemed rather pointless to have an affair unless one was infused with a truly grand passion, she thought, Why bother with the risks unless one expected to experience the stimulating emotions and exciring metaphysical feelings that the poets related?
The sort of feelings, for example, that had swept over her last night when Baxter had kissed her.
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The thought stopped Charlotte cold. Was she actually consid(i ing the possibility of having an affair with Baxter St. Ives?
She looked at the strange design that Drusilla Heskett h@,,d drawn in the watercolor sketchbook. The pattern was an enignia. Not unlike her feelings for Baxter.
"A lady in your position cannot be too careful, Miss Patterson."
Charlotte smiled at the woman seated across from her. She had a
theory that it was good business to compliment a client's foresight and caution. "You were wise to verify the impression Mr. Adams made."
"I told myself I must be careful."
"Indeed. But I am happy to inform you that our inquiries produced no reason to doubt either Mr. Adams's credibility or the
security of his financial situation." "I do not mind telling you that I am enormously relieved to
hear that. I do not know how to thank you." Honoria Patterson, a
pleasantly rounded woman with a pretty face and warm eyes, visibly relaxed her fierce grip on the reticule that rested on her lap.
There was an air of sweet, soft femininity, almost a maternal quality about Honoria, which made her appear a trifle fragile. Charlotte was not deceived. She knew full well that any woman who had kept her spirits strong and optimistic after nearly ten years as a governess was no delicate flower.
Honoria was typical of many of the clients whom Charlotte assisted. She was nearing thirty and had never been married. After struggling to support herself since the age of seventeen, she had
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come into a small, respectablel and completely unexpected inhei j -
tance.
Predictably, a handful of suitors had materialized in the wake the news of Honoria's good fortune. She had dismissed most of them
without hesitation. A governess learned early to be wary of a geiltleman's intentions. But one, William Adams, a widower in his
early thirties with two children, had captivated her interest and, apparently, her heart.
As she had explained to Charlotte, the years she had spent instilling the principles of logic and sound reasoning into her young charges had given her a measure of hard-won wisdom and a healthy sense of caution. A friend who operated an agency for governesses had referred her to Charlotte. "I'm delighted to have been of service," Charlotte said. "Especially so in a case such as this where the results of our inquiries are positive. " "I am so very fond of Mr. Adams." Honoria blushed. "And the children are delightful. But you know how it is. Ladies of our ad-
vanced years must question a man's intentions. After all, the world considers us well and truly on the shelf."
On the shelf.
Charlotte sighed. She was already twenty-five. Where had the time gone? she wondered. It seemed only yesterday that she had been desperate to create a career that would allow her to support herself and her sister. She had devoted all of her energy and passion to the task and somehow five years had gone by in the blink of an eye.
She did not regret having passed beyond what Society considered a marriageable age for a lady. Business had improved noticeably, in fact, after she began to look as though she were no longer fresh out of the schoolroom. But she could not help wondering now
just what she had missed never having known the thrill of passion.
The sense of wistfulness startled her. She was not lonely. She took great satisfaction in her work. She had her independence. What
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more could she truly want? Perhaps she had, indeed, been reading
much poetry lately, she thought. Never-huless, she did not want Ariel to follow precisely the same path. The business was important and Ariel was keenly interested In it. But Charlotte did not want her sister to sacrifice everything to it, as she had done. There was no longer such a
pressing need. They had sufficient income to keep them in com-
fortable, if not luxurious, circumstances. If her plans to attract
clients from the Polite World proved successful, a bit of luxury would even be possible.
She would give a great deal to ensure that Ariel had an opportunity to experience some of the innocent pleasures of young wom-
anhood. Such pleasures should have been part of her inheritance. Those advanced years that Honoria had mentioned came all too quickly.
With the ease of long habit, Charlotte pushed aside the intrusive thoughts. She forced herself to concentrate on her client.
"A sensible, intelligent woman must be cautious in a situation such as this, Miss Patterson," she said briskly. "After all, it is not as though I am a beauty," Honoria said in the practical tone of a woman who has long since accepted the facts of life.
Nor am I, Charlotte thought with a fresh twinge of unease. Last night Baxter's passion had clearly been induced by the excitement they had shared. She had to be prepared for the possibility that he lould no longer find her so alluring now that the stimulating effIcts of danger had dissipated. . "And what with this recent inheritance from my cousin," Honoria continued, "well, I'm sure you comprehend why I felt the need to make inquiries into Mr. Adams's background."
A understand." I never expected to marry. Indeed, I had convinced myself that was quite content with my life now that I am financially indepen-
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dent. But Mr. Adams came along and suddenly I saw other pos-
sibilities. We share a great many interests." "I'm delighted for you."
This was not the first time that one of Charlotte's clients had become excessively talkative after receiving good news. Initially, the
ladies who sought out her services tended to be tight-lipped and extremely reticent. They were invariably stiff with tension when
they first sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk.
Teacups rattled against saucers. Gloved hands fluttered anxiously. Expressions were solemn.
When the news was bad, tears usually flowed. Charlotte kept a
pile of linen handkerchiefs in one of her desk drawers for such
unhappy occasions.
A favorable report, however, frequent
ly induced a mild eupho-
ria. It made some clients want to chatter endlessly about the re-
cently verified virtues of their suitors.
Generally speaking, Charlotte simply listened and made encouraging noises. Satisfied clients made excellent, very discreet references. She could afford to be generous with her time during the final
interview.
But this afternoon, Charlotte had an inexplicable urge to do the
talking. "I am happy for you, Miss Patterson. And pleased that I
was able to confirm your good opinion of Mr. Adams, But you must
realize that there is always some risk for a lady when it comes to marriage."
Honoria gave her a quizzical look. "Risk?" "I have done my best to make certain that Mr. Adams is not a
drunkard. He is not given to outrageous wagers. He does not fre-
quent brothels. He has a reliable income and he appears to possess a
stable, calm temperament."
Honoria glowed . All in all, a wonderful gentleman." "Yes. But you do realize that I cannot absolutely guarantee that
Mr. Adams will remain such a model of masculine perfection after
the wedding."
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"I beg your pardon?" Charlotte leaned forward impulsively. "He could decide to
,i.bandon you and his children next year in order to go off in search of adventure in the South Seas. Or be might grow bored with his liew life as a husband and take to drinking too much wine. He may @Uffer a siege of melancholy that will cause him to become ex-
p-emely unpleasant. There are any number of things that can go
v,rong in a marriage." "Well, yes, I suppose that is true." Honoria shifted uneasily in
1,.,@r chair. Her gaze became wary. "I realize that there can be no
,,ttarantees in a situation such as this." "Precisely. Yet you choose to go forth along the path that leads c,,ward marriage."
Honoria frowned. "You seem a bit agitated of a sudden, Miss Arkendale. Is something wrong?" "I am merely wondering why you are so set on marrying Mr. Adams. It is not as if there is no alternative."
"I told you, none of the other gentlemen interested me in the Icast."
"That is not what I meant by alternative. Miss Patterson, may I ask you a question that is of a somewhat personal nature?"
Honoria glanced at the door, as if gauging the distance. "What is it you wish to know, Miss Arkendale?" "Forgive me, but I cannot help wondering why you do not
consider the possibility of a discreet liaison with Mr. Adams. Why hazard the dangers of marriage?"
Honoria stared at her. For an instant Charlotte was afraid that she had offended her in an unforgivable fashion. Silently she cursed her Impulsiveness. Business was business, after all. She could not afford to go about horrifying her clients. "Have an affair, do you mean?" Honoria asked with a refreshing candor.
Charlotte flushed. "It would seem to be an obvious solution. Granted, a young lady could not engage in a romantic liaison with-
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out bringing scandal down on her head, but a woman of, ah, our
mature years has more freedom. So long as she exercises discretion, of course."
Honoria regarded Charlotte with a thoughtful expression. Then an odd little smile curved her mouth. "Perhaps you have been engaged in your present career a trifle too long, Miss Arkendale." "What do you mean?" "It strikes me that the business of making inquiries into gentlemen's backgrounds may have given you a rather cynical view of the world and of gentlemen, in particular. Perhaps you have lost sight of the reason why a lady would choose to make such inquiries in the
first place." "I beg your pardon?" "An affair may do very well for some people." Honoria adjusted the strings of her bonnet and got to her feet. "But Mr. Adams and I
are both looking for a good deal more." "I do not understand."
"It is difficult to put into words, Miss Arkendale. If you do not
intuitively comprehend the answer to your own question, I doubt that I can explain it to you. Suffice it to say that one enters marriage with hope." "Hope?" "And trust. And a vision of the future." Honoria gave her a
pitying glance. "An affair cannot offer any of that, can it? By its
very nature it is an extremely limited connection. if you will excuse
me, I must be on my way. I thank you again for your services."
Charlotte jumped to her feet, driven by the questions bubbling forth inside her. She suddenly wanted to know what Honoria Patterson sought in marriage that could possibly make it worth the
dreadful risk of finding oneself shackled to a man such as Winterbourne.
There were even worse possibilities, she reminded herself. Possibilities that sprang straight from the heart of a nightmare. What
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could make It worth the risk of binding oneself to a monster such as the creature who had slithered in the shadows of the hall outside Ariel's bedchamber five years ago?
Charlotte realized that Honoria had paused at the door. Her expression was one of grave concern.
"Are you feeling ill, Miss Arkendale?" "No, not at all." Charlotte drew a deep, steadying breath. What on earth was the matter with her? she wondered. She reached out and braced herself by planting both of her hands flat on her desk. With an act of will she produced what she hoped was a businesslike smile. "My apologies. I shall summon my housekeeper to see you
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out.
A sharp knock interrupted Charlotte just as she reached for the velvet bell pull. The door of the study opened.
Mrs. Witty's majestic form loomed grandly. "Mr. St. Ives is here
to see you, maIam. Says he has an appointment."
Charlotte's morbid thoughts and unanswered questions vanished in a heartbeat. Baxter was there. She tried and failed to suppress the little burst of delight that flowered inside her. "Thank you, Mrs. Witty. Miss Patterson was just leaving. Will you see her out, please?"
Mrs. Witty stood back and looked expectantly at Honoria. "Yes, ma'am. "
Honoria went out into the hall with a cheerful spring in her step that had not been present when she had arrived a short while earlier.
It occurred to Charlotte that she had just been presented with a golden opportunity to conduct another experiment on Baxter. "Oh, Miss Patterson, a moment if you please." Charlotte hurried around the corner of her desk and went to the doorway of the study. She peered out into the hall.
Baxter stood there, enveloped in the unshakable aura of limitless
111M that Charlotte found both intriguing and disturbing. Others Might interpret his self-possessed air as the patience of a naturally
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staid, rather boring individual, but she knew it was something elsc entirely. It was a manifestation of his inner strength and self-
mastery.
She drew in a little breath at the sight of him. He was dressed in a severely cut dark blue coat that, although a bit wrinkled, nevertheless revealed the powerful line of his shoulders. His plainly tied cravat, conservative breeches, and boots suited him, she thought. Fashion was clearly unimportant to him. He was a man of deeper sensibilities.
His gaze met hers at that moment. His eyes glinted behind the lenses of his spectacles. She had the uncomfortable impression that he knew precisely what she was thinking. She felt the rush of warmth into her cheeks and was thoroughly annoyed. She was a lady of advanced years and far too much a woman of the world to blush, she told herself.
"Was there something else, Miss Arkendale?" Honoria asked politely.
Charlotte took a single step out into the hall. "Before you leave, Miss Patterson, may I present Mr. St. Ives?" She paused as Honoria
turned toward Baxter. "He is my man-of-affairs." "Mr. St. Ives," Honoria murmured. "Miss Patterson." Baxter inclined his head in a short, brusque
manner.
Charlotte watched Honoria's face
very carefully. There was no
trace of surprise or curiosity or anything else to indicate that she
suspected Baxter of being something other than what he was sup-
posed to be, an ordinary man of business.
Amazing, Charlotte thought. She caught herself just as she was
about to shake her head and smiled at Honoria instead. "Mr. St. Ives is of great assistance to me. I do not know what I would do without him."
Baxter's eyes glinted. "You flatter me, Miss Arkendale." "Not in the least, Mr. St. Ives. You are invaluable."
"I'm delighted to hear you say so."
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f4onoria gave both of them a vague smile. "If you will excuse
roe, I havc a number of calls to make." She turned and went out the
front door without a backward glance.
Charlotte waited until Mrs. Witty had closed the door. Then she stepped back into her study and waved Baxter into her sanctum.
1 Mr. St. Ives. We have much to discuss." "Do come n, Baxter walked across the hall to join her. "You do not yet know the half of it, Miss Arkendale."
Sh, ignored the remark to glance at the housekeeper. "Would you please bring us a fresh tea tray, Mrs. Witty?" "Yes, ma'am." Mrs. Witty went down the hall to the kitchen.
Charlotte closed the door and whirled around to face Baxter. "Miss Patterson did not even hesitate at the introduction. She obvi-
ously accepted you as my man-of-affairs without so much as a qualm. " "I told you that I would have no difficulty playing the role." His Mouth twisted slightly. "You are the only one who has ever
questioned my striking ability to masquerade as a potato pudding."
The grim tone of his voice brought her up short. "What on
earth is the matter, sit?"
He went to stand at the window. "Last night after I left you, I did a great deal of thinking." "So did L" "I doubt that we came to similar conclusions." "Mr. St. lves, I do not understand what this is all about." "There are some things I must explain to you." "What things?" A coil of unease began to untwist within her. Perhaps he already regretted last night's brief bout of passion. "Sir, You are behaving in a rather mysterious fashion today. Is something wrong? " "Bloody hell. We are engaged in a hunt for a murderer. Of course something is wrong. For your information, Charlotte, this sort of venture is not a common occupation for ladies. Nor is it c,nsidered a gentleman's sport, for that matter."
