Ladies of Disgrace Box Set

by Vicki Hopkins

  Captivated by her appearance, he stepped aside. Charlotte slammed the door behind her, barring any further look into her private residence. Her insistence on privacy irked Albert.

  His driver stood by the carriage. Charlotte climbed inside and sat down, giving him enough room to sit alongside. Feeling like a moth to the flame, Albert did not resist the space beside her body. When he settled himself, her perfume wafted up to his nostrils like a bewitching potion.

  “Why so quiet?” she asked as the carriage jerked forward to their destination. “Oh, I know, my vulgar, off-the-shoulder dress. We are not living in 1812, Albert. It’s 1890, and evening fashions changed.”

  “But the aspect of modesty has not,” he pointed out. “You dress to bring attention to yourself.”

  “And what if I do? What is wrong with that?” she replied with a coquettish grin.

  “There is no humility in such actions,” he quickly spouted in a self-righteous tone.

  “No humility?” Charlotte snorted a laugh. “It’s a quality you are sorely lacking. What is that saying—judge not lest you be judged? You are the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.”

  “Oh, now you are spouting biblical verses to reprimand my behavior? I find that quite comical,” he replied. Albert physically leaned away from Charlotte, pressing against the inside of the carriage wall. “Your perfume is gagging me.” He wheezed. Inwardly, though, Albert fought his male impulses. Not even the insults he threw in her direction could get his mind off the temptation filling the carriage. She had begun to wield her arsenal of sexual attraction to pull him off course, but he determined not to allow her behavior to seduce him. Instead, his tongue rambled about the forthcoming ball.

  “Our hosts this evening are the Duke and Duchess of Bedford,” he announced. “Their youngest daughter has recently entered society.”

  “No doubt husband hunting,” Charlotte replied.

  “Balls are an innocent amusement for the younger generation. It keeps them from vices that can corrupt their character,” he recited in a plummy voice.

  “Do they now?” Charlotte responded sarcastically.

  Albert turned his head toward her, demanding Charlotte’s attention, but she ignored him.

  “Don’t you think it brings the younger generations together for sensible recreation, gives them exercise, and creates beauty and elegance that can elevate a depraved mind?”

  “Oh dear Lord,” Charlotte groaned. “Is that what you are attempting to accomplish with this ball—elevate my depraved mind to something more amenable?” She rolled her eyes.

  The carriage slowed and came to a halt. “It wouldn’t hurt to modify your immoral thoughts,” Albert snidely responded.

  They stopped at the cloakroom, where Charlotte removed her shawl and checked her reticule. Albert winced at the flash of her flesh dancing before his eyes.

  “Well, I hope you are at least a good dancer,” she remarked.

  “I dance well enough to please the ladies,” Albert responded in a matter-of-fact declaration.

  “And can you please the ladies in other ways?” Charlotte winked at him, accenting her meaning. Albert clenched his jaw at the suggestion. Her tactless behavior never ceased.

  They entered the grand hall crowded with over a hundred attendees who were engaged in waltzing. Only a few stood on the sidelines, conversing with guests or in a nearby room taking refreshments. Wasting no time, Charlotte grabbed his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor.

  “For goodness’ sake.” He balked. “It is customary for the man to ask a woman to dance.” He stood before her and scowled.

  “Well, ask me,” she remarked.

  He inhaled a breath, closed his eyes, and found the words leaving his lips with great difficulty. “May I have the pleasure of this waltz?”

  “You sound convinced waltzing with me would give you anything but pleasure.”

  Albert slipped his hand around her waist, tenderly touching her back. As he held out his white-gloved hand, he took control of the situation. Charlotte, small in stature, looked delicate and tiny next to his large frame. It would be an accomplishment if she could keep up with his enthusiastic steps. After a slight hesitation, she rested her hand on his. Albert led her through the crowded ballroom, spinning her in circles. Of great distress, however, was the nearness of her bosom and the perfume that relentlessly intoxicated him.

  NOT QUITE SURE WHAT Albert was struggling to accomplish by his overzealous waltzing, Charlotte decided to change the direction of the evening. She noticed his bulging arousal earlier in the carriage that he tried to hide, which confirmed her appearance had lured him. The dress, perfume, and jewels were accomplishing their task. Unfortunately, his self-important arrogance had ruined any affection she might otherwise feel.

  After three waltzes, Charlotte had had enough. “I need refreshment,” she declared out of breath. She hated sweating, and her forehead beaded from the heat of the crowded room.

  “I thought you enjoyed dancing.” Albert grinned, apparently satisfied he had worn her out.

  “Well, if you enjoy dancing so much, you should know the rules that it’s considered rude to continue to dance with the same partner the entire evening.”

  “Perhaps, but I dread the trouble you will get into if I let you linger among the crowd alone.”

  “Oh for God’s sake, Albert, you are insufferable.” Charlotte glanced around the dance floor, and her eyes rested upon a young lady she had noted earlier. Every ball had its so-called wallflowers, and in the distance stood one waiting for rescue.

  “Why don’t you take up a gallant task and ask that lonely young lady over there to dance?”

  Albert glanced in the direction of Charlotte’s eyes and immediately denied the invitation. “I do not feel inclined.” He turned away.

  “Yes, she is rather plain, isn’t see? Small breasted, pointed chin, pale complexion, and is wearing a dreadful patterned dress that accents her plump figure. I suppose she deserves to stand there alone since she doesn’t meet your expectations of beauty.”

  Cross by Albert’s answer, Charlotte abandoned him and headed to the anteroom for champagne. She made her way to the table, took a glass, and sipped the cool liquid. The exuberant dancing had parched her throat.

  Albert, however, didn’t follow. Instead, he stood where she left him by the door like a fool pondering what to do next. Then, to her utter surprise, he gradually approached the young lady and held out his hand. The wallflower beamed with excitement.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” she mumbled under her breath. “I may soften his pretentious ass after all.”

  The lonely lady stared at Albert the entire time as if he was her knight in shining armor. He swung her around the dance floor with less enthusiasm than he had with Charlotte. When the waltz ended, she acted shy and unsure of what to do next. Albert spoke a word, bowed, and returned to stand by Charlotte. The young lady retreated to the wall with a downcast expression. At least she had one moment of pleasure.

  “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Charlotte remarked. “I am proud of you for showing an ounce of chivalry.”

  “To be honest, it was most uncomfortable.”

  “Perhaps for you, but you gave enjoyment to another human being.”

  Albert spoke nothing further and acted aloof. A sour expression spread across his face as if he had sucked on a pickle. The ball was a bore. He made no effort to socialize with any of the attendees. Perhaps he was embarrassed to present her to anyone of importance.

  Anxious to leave and enjoy her preferred form of entertainment, Charlotte decided to change the direction of the evening.

  “It’s my turn, Sir Galahad. Why don’t we leave this stuffy room and find more pleasurable entertainment elsewhere?”

  “If you insist,” Albert said without complaint. Surprised he relented, they embarked on the second half of their tit-for-tat evening.

  Chapter Eight

  A Spin Around the Wheel

  Charlotte loved
to gamble. She found her luck lay more at the roulette table than it did when it came to love. Excited to throw off the stuffiness of the ball atmosphere, she brought Albert to a private club. Her former husband didn’t mind dropping a few pounds during cards, and any roll of dice or spin of the wheel exhilarated Charlotte too. The one prerequisite, of course, is that she possessed the good sense to quit when luck turned against her at the tables. She had every intention of keeping her fortune intact, unlike her father who often lacked self-control.

  Naturally, gambling was considered a terrible vice in the eyes of the morally upright. By the distressed look on Albert’s face as they entered the gaming room, he was not pleased.

  “You do know the National Anti-Gambling League is determined to put a stop to these establishments. Frankly, I applaud their campaign to end this vice.”

  “It’s part of our culture and tradition, Albert. Aristocrats have little else to do with their riches if you haven’t noticed already. They would rather lose what they have gambling than give any of it to the needy.”

  “Exactly my point. Gambling corrupts,” Albert complained. He glanced around the room, perusing the crowd.

  Charlotte halted and looked at him. “So what do you do with your riches, Albert? You don’t even know how to give a measly crown to a poor flower girl without expecting change in return.”

  “Well, I—”

  Charlotte cut him off, not interested in his excuses. “Oh look. The Prince of Wales is here,” Charlotte exclaimed. Without hesitating, Charlotte sauntered over and flashed the prince a broad smile while displaying a curtsy that showed her bulging assets. He returned her gaze with admiration. “It is so good to see you, Your Royal Highness.”

  “My favorite widow,” he beamed, eyeing her up and down. “You do look stunning tonight. Your husband is no doubt missing you in the afterlife.”

  “You tease,” she innocently replied, batting her eyelashes. “May I introduce you to Lord Beckett? He is my companion this evening.”

  “Companion you say?” the Prince of Wales queried, observing Albert with interest.

  “Yes, a friendly companion whom I’m introducing to vice-filled entertainment.” Charlotte flashed a toothy grin at Albert, putting him on the spot.

  “Your Royal Highness, it’s a rare pleasure to meet... to meet your acquaintance.” Albert nervously stumbled over his words, bowed, and appeared flabbergasted at the introduction.

  “I give you a royal decree, Lord Beckett, that you do not offend Lady Charlotte. It is my rare pleasure to call her a loyal subject whom frankly I adore.” The Prince of Wales wrapped his arm around Charlotte’s waist. “Shall you play cards with me this evening?” He leaned into Charlotte and grinned mischievously. “I have been told my gambling is becoming a scandalous pastime for the monarchy and am being pressured by the prime minister to repent.” After letting out a hearty laugh, he squeezed Charlotte’s waist. “What do you say? How about a game of baccarat?”

  “If you would be so kind as to excuse me, I had planned on taking Lord Beckett for a few spins on the roulette wheel.” Charlotte eyed two beautiful women standing near the prince, looking a bit disgruntled she had drawn his attention elsewhere. “Besides, you are surrounded by loveliness as always.”

  “I deserve nothing less.” He grinned, eyeing the women. “Go then, and spin. The best of luck, young lady.”

  “And to you.” Charlotte gave a quick curtsy, and Albert followed with a bow. A moment later she had grabbed his forearm and tugged him away like a dog on a leash, heading straight for the roulette wheel.

  “Think of a number, Albert, and whether it will be red or black.”

  “Whatever for?”

  The poor man looked stunned and confused after meeting the prince. She was quite sure he hadn’t expected that happenchance.

  “And open that wallet of yours so we can purchase some chips.”

  “Purchase your own chips,” he replied bitterly. “I’m not gambling my money away to make you happy.”

  “Did the Prince of Wales not give you a command? Shall I go over to him and give him an earful about how you are a disgruntled companion who knows nothing about enjoying pleasure?”

  Albert nervously glanced in the prince’s direction. “You have created an unfair playing field to your advantage.” He shoved his hand into his inside pocket. “How much?”

  “A hundred pounds should suffice to get us started.” Charlotte opened her palm before him.

  “A hundred pounds?” He moaned. “That’s outrageous.”

  “You do have a hundred pounds with you, don’t you?” Charlotte waited with an upturned palm.

  “Here,” he snapped, shoving the bills in her direction. “If you lose a penny of it, I expect you to pay me back.”

  “Do you now?” she drawled. “Watch me double or triple it, and I’ll keep the profits.”

  They approached the gaming table after purchasing chips. “All right, Albert, what number fancies you?”

  Albert studied the table and the numbers in red and black. “Twenty-one red,” he remarked.

  Charlotte let out a sigh. “Not my choice.” She placed her bet on black eight. “I prefer this one.”

  “Then why did you ask me?” Albert angrily stated, grabbing one chip. “I said twenty-one red.” He slammed it down on the gaming table, drawing everyone’s attention.

  “He’s not in a good mood,” Charlotte remarked to the dealer who raised his brow.

  “Place your bets,” the dealer announced. A few remaining gamblers chose their numbers.

  Albert watched the wheel intently as it spun the white ball. When it finally came to a halt, Charlotte squealed with delight as the dealer called the result. “Black eight.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Albert lamented in a wail. “How did you know it would land on that number?”

  Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. “It’s luck, Albert. Just plain old luck.”

  “Place your bets.”

  Charlotte put her chips down on the next number that tickled her fancy. She felt excited and assured tonight would bring a decent return. Albert, on the other hand, would no doubt lose if he continued to play. The poor man was such a miserable sod. Did he even know how to have any fun? She sincerely doubted it.

  .

  Chapter Nine

  Picnic and Ants

  Albert tossed for hours in bed after the evening of waltzing and gaming. Astounded by Charlotte, who had increased her purse by five hundred pounds, he thought her a sorceress. She had managed to arouse him with her scant gown and perfume and then bewitched the gaming table as if it belonged to her alone. Even the dealer appeared quite surprised at her luck that evening. To be honest, he was tired of being in her company because they had nothing in common.

  For their next activity, Albert suggested they go horseback riding and take a picnic lunch in the country. In return, Charlotte proposed they attend a horse race the following day, which Albert had no objection to whatsoever. Though he wasn’t much of a betting man, as he expressed last evening, a good race of well-bred horses was part of English tradition.

  Of more significant concern, however, had been his initial intent to reform Charlotte’s behavior for acceptance in high society had been an utter failure. When she had introduced him to the Prince of Wales the evening before, their familiarity with one another had driven a stake of disappointment into his heart. She had already gone as far up the social ladder as possible, but as most of England knew, the Prince of Wales had his questionable dalliances.

  As he lay in bed, with one arm under his head on the pillow, it became apparent what he needed to do. As Cedric had mentioned, she was a complicated woman and a mystery to her family. There had to be good reasons she turned into such a willful creature. Perhaps getting to know her on a more personal level would help him understand her motivations, thus empowering him to counteract former influences.

  With renewed determination, Albert rose and readied himself for their outing
. After bathing and changing into comfortable clothes, he felt rejuvenated and steadfast in his resolve. Charlotte would not get the better of him today regardless of any mischievous ploy she wielded as a tool of seduction.

  Albert arranged with Lord Grafton to use his stables outside the city boundaries. Charlotte insisted on meeting him there rather than traveling together. To forgo another argumentative moment, Albert agreed.

  As Charlotte’s carriage arrived at the Grafton estate, Albert’s eagerness to mount a horse and depart morphed into irritation. She slowly exited the carriage dressed in a burgundy riding habit with a black hat and netting that covered her face. Her brown riding boots and gloves accented the outfit, making her look professionally confident in her riding abilities. To his surprise, she had brought a riding crop, clutching it in her right hand like a weapon.

  “Good day, Lady Rutherford.” Albert gave Charlotte a charming grin of approval.

  “Good day, Lord Beckett,” she replied, keeping the air of formality. Charlotte strode toward him and halted a few feet away. “Fine weather we are having, wouldn’t you say?”

  Albert glanced at the blue skies and puffy white clouds passing overhead, pushed along by a vigorous breeze. “Yes, it is fine albeit a bit blustery.”

  “You always find something wrong even in enjoyable climate,” she dryly noted.

  Charlotte took the end of her crop and patted her palm with it, acting as if she wished to use it on him. She had been in his presence a mere minute, and already they sparred with one another.

  “I just mentioned it was breezy.”

  “I heard,” she replied, impatiently tapping the crop.

  “Do you intend on using that on the horse or me, might I ask?” Albert queried, keeping his eye on the leather. She smiled at him wickedly.

  “The idea of giving you a good wallop when you act conceited does sound appealing to me. I just may crack you occasionally across your rump to keep you in line.”