Ladies of Disgrace Box Set

by Vicki Hopkins

“I cannot believe I’ve finally seen you smile, Lord Beckett. It’s an astounding expression on your face, and I rather like it.” Charlotte grinned in delight.

  “Do you now?” After flipping the boat upright, he pulled the rowboat back to the dock where Charlotte met him. She had plopped her wet hat upon her head, dripping water down her face. In her hand, she clutched his straw hat so hard it folded into an unrecognizable mess.

  The boathouse attendee took the rope and tied the boat to the dock. Albert climbed up and gazed down at Charlotte. She looked adorable, grinning at him like a wet Cheshire cat.

  “Well, give me a boost. Just don’t stand there like a wet rag,” she demanded.

  Albert grabbed her hand and hoisted her upward with a jerk. He picked up his discarded coat and wrapped it around her body. “Cover yourself up. You’re making an exhibition of yourself in front of everyone.”

  “I hold you fully responsible for my appearance. You should have watched where you were going.” Charlotte scolded him like a mother.

  “Frankly, it was your fault. I was enamored by your beauty in the sunlight and lost all sense of direction.” It was foolish to admit his weakness, but at least she shared the blame. A smile slowly curled the corner of her lips, indicating her pleasure.

  “Interesting,” she snickered. “You are a man with desires. And what do you propose we do now as we stand here soaked to the bone?”

  He bent down and picked up Charlotte’s discarded dress and corset. “Why don’t you slip into the boathouse and find a discreet place to put these wet clothes back on. In the meantime, I’ll hire a hansom and will wait for you to meet me at the end of West Carriage Drive.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’ll take you home.”

  “All right.” She slipped off his coat, shoved it in his direction, then ran toward the boathouse with her dress draped over her arm and shoes in her hands. Everyone nearby stared at her sprinting in her undergarments, and for her sake, he felt mortified. No doubt society would be talking about this incident for days.

  Chapter Twelve

  Aiming at the Target

  Albert arrived at the gentlemen’s club the following morning. As soon as he entered, a roar of laughter filled the sitting room. His eyes wandered over to the source of the ruckus. Cedric stood in the middle of a crowd with a newspaper in hand. Lord Grafton and Sir Walton huddled nearby, listening to Cedric read.

  “Lady Rutherford, dressed only in her undergarments, emerged from the lake, being hoisted up on the dock by Lord Beckett. The scandalous display elicited outrage from families who had gone to Hyde Park for a relaxing day of taking in the air. Mothers shielded the eyes of their children from the shocking scene.”

  “Oh, she must have been a sight.” Sir Walton grinned delightfully. “I’m sorry to have missed seeing your cousin in her undergarments, Cedric.”

  Albert had never blushed in his entire life but felt the warmth in his cheeks give way to sheer embarrassment. How did that get in the newspaper? Some gossip-happy bystander no doubt reported the incident, having watched the entire fiasco. Perhaps it was the gent he rammed with the boat, getting back at him for his lack of attention.

  He was about to turn heel and leave to save face when Lord Grafton saw him standing on the threshold.

  “There he is! The man of the hour.”

  “Beckett, you rascal. Come over here and tell us the full, unedited story.” Sir Walton waved at Albert to approach.

  Since there remained no apparent opportunity to vacate the premises, he sheepishly joined the trio. Cedric frowned, and Albert braced himself for the ensuing reprimand.

  “What the hell are you doing, Beckett? I thought you were the man to reform her ways, and here you are parading my cousin around in her undergarments in front of everyone at Hyde Park.”

  “It was entirely her fault,” Albert responded in haste. “We had a boating accident and overturned into the water.”

  “Well, how the bloody hell did she end up with no clothes on?” Cedric pressed his query in earnest.

  Sir Walton bellowed a hearty laugh. “Albert here must have fallen into her wiles.”

  “I did no such thing. After I pulled her up on the dock, Charlotte undressed in front of me and then decided to jump back into the lake for a swim.”

  “A swim, you say? And I read here you joined Charlotte in her frolics. Were you fully clothed or did you two swim in the nude?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Albert spat. “I needed to retrieve the rowboat that was drifting aimlessly in the lake.”

  Cedric folded the paper. “My trust in you, Albert, is shattered. I held great confidence in your abilities to train Charlotte in good behavior. Instead, you bring shame on our family.”

  “I’m not the one who disrobed in front of everyone,” Albert shot back with flared nostrils. “It’s your cousin who made a spectacle of herself. I was appalled and embarrassed the entire time.”

  “I bet you were,” Sir Walton replied. “Tell me, what did her figure look like in her undergarments? Did anything spill out or perk up?”

  The question recalled Charlotte’s hardened nipples against the wet fabric. As a man, he had to admit it was a stimulating sight. A sly grin spread across his face.

  “Well, if you must know, the lady is well endowed.” He grinned mischievously. “I may have high moral standards, but I’m a man like anyone else.”

  “You rogue,” Cedric railed. “You are going to bed her, aren’t you?”

  “I have no intentions. Although I must admit your cousin is doing everything in her power to weaken my resolve.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Cedric replied. “Come. Sit with me and have a drink.”

  “All right. Perhaps an update is in order.” Albert ordered a drink and encouraged Lord Grafton and Sir Walton to take leave. With whiskey in hand, he chose a chair and settled in for an anticipated interrogation.

  “How are things progressing?” Cedric narrowed his eyes, looking as if he had lost all faith in Albert’s ability to succeed.

  “As well as can be expected,” he replied. “We have been continuing our activities, which I used to further her education. She, on the other hand, is quite adept at twisting my endeavors to suit her purposes.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Cedric replied. “Are you making any headway at all?”

  “I’ve been attempting to get to know her on a personal level so I can understand the motivation behind her actions.” Albert took a relaxed pose as the whiskey soothed his nerves. “You need not worry, Cedric. I have everything under control regardless of yesterday’s fiasco.”

  “Hmm, a curious thing to say since Charlotte appears to have the same attitude.” He cast a smug smile.

  “What? She thinks she has everything under control?” Albert leaned forward in his chair, agitated over the news.

  “Yes, I stopped by her residence this morning to talk about the scathing article in the newspaper. Unsurprisingly she felt little remorse for her behavior.”

  “Did she let you in?”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Cedric replied, cocking his head in confusion.

  “Well, she refuses to let me see the interior of her abode for some odd reason.”

  Cedric chuckled. “Another means of controlling you, I’m afraid. She enjoys making herself a mysterious creature. Tell me what is next on your schedule?”

  “I thought I would take her to Broughton Hall and introduce her to my uncle and cousins,” Albert mused. “It might be good to expose her to the influence of a more refined family.”

  “Good God, man, are you crazy? How will you introduce her to your uncle? It will look most curious.”

  “Oh, I’ll think of a ruse.” Albert thought of how Charlotte would act among genteel gentry. It would be an interesting test of her commitment to behave like a lady.

  CHARLOTTE ARRIVED AT the appointed location of an archery range to meet Albert. It was his latest suggestion for a healthy open-air amusement. She ha
d never cared much for the sport even though she had been taught as a young girl to participate in the activity. When Charlotte mentioned she was better at billiards than archery, Albert promised to improve her aim.

  Anxious to get on with their training session, she couldn’t believe Albert was late. Charlotte smiled, recalling how Cedric arrived that morning, waving the morning newspaper in her face. When she read the article about yesterday’s swim in the lake, she laughed so hard tears streamed down her cheeks. No doubt her outlandish antics had set Albert’s bid for her reformation back to the dark ages, and their tit-for-tat endeavor would continue in Charlotte’s favor.

  She chuckled under her breath, remembering Albert’s boyish smile as they splashed in the water. It had been the first time his lips moved into a pleasant position, which made him appear handsomely roguish. His eyes kept drifting down to her chemise clinging to her body, tempting his saintly ego. Nevertheless, it was the character of a woman that attracted him on a deeper level. The more she pondered that weakness, she decided her ultimate change in behavior would be the weapon to wield rather than her flesh.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” Albert approached her from the left with a mortified look on his face. She recalled his comment about the value of punctuality but didn’t have the heart to scold him for his obvious poor conduct. Had it been her tardiness, she probably would have received an earful of criticism.

  “Good day, Albert,” she replied, glancing at the sporting elements. He held a longbow, and a quiver of arrows dangled from a leather strap over his shoulder. “Here, let me help you with those things.” Charlotte reached out and took a bow in hand and cringed at the thought of stringing it. She had tried once to do it as a young girl. In her weakness, the bow flung back and hit her in the cheek. Sneering at the thing, she remembered how much it smart.

  “Oh dear, you’re scowling with hatred at the apparatus,” he noted.

  “Not at you,” Charlotte clarified. She held the bow away from her body at arm’s length. “I’ve been slapped in the face with one of these unruly wooden weapons when I tried to string it as a child.”

  “Ah, yes, they can be a challenge if you’re not strong enough. Of course, there is a proper way to do it and a wrong way.” Albert glanced down the field where a few others stood before targets. “Shall we join them?”

  “Yes, let’s get on with this endeavor to teach me to hit the bull’s-eye.” Surprised Albert had mentioned nothing about the previous day or the morning’s newspaper, she decided to let the subject remain unspoken. Perhaps he felt embarrassed over the occurrence and didn’t wish to relive the horror of the scene. Either that or the sting from Cedric’s probable rebuke lingered.

  “I think no more than ten yards to begin. As you improve your aim, we can choose targets placed farther away.” He handed her an arm guard.

  Ten yards. A slight flush of insult poked Charlotte. She had never considered herself much of a novice. “Well, I believe that is a bit elementary but if you insist.”

  Albert ignored her statement as he strung her bow. Instinctively she took a step back and fastened the guard on her left forearm. She had brought a pair of leather gloves to protect her fingertips.

  “Now why don’t you show me what you can do,” Albert said, handing her the bow. He took an arrow from the quiver. “These arrows should be correct for your arm length. I chose the twenty-six inch.”

  “How considerate,” Charlotte replied. “You’ve thought of everything.” Carefully taking the arrow and laying it upon the rest, she notched it upward until it locked in position. It had been some time since she pulled back a bow and at her first try had difficulty doing so. “My goodness, how many pounds’ pull is this weapon?”

  “No more than thirty at full draw,” he replied. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for an energetic woman as yourself.”

  Charlotte relaxed the string and looked at him cockeyed. “I’m sure I can handle it just fine.” She raised the bow, pulled back the string with a grimace, and barely took a moment to aim before the arrow flew off the rest and landed flat on the ground a few yards away.

  “Well now, that was impressive.” Albert stifled an impolite chuckle.

  “You are amusing.” Charlotte grabbed another arrow and tried again.

  “Please take your time and let me see your entire technique so I can help rectify your poor delivery.” Albert took a step closer and stood off to her right-hand side.

  After inhaling a breath, Charlotte set her jaw, pulled the string back to the side of her mouth, but trembled as she struggled to hold it in place. Feeling confident she would hit the target, she released her fingers and watched the arrow hit the grass a few feet short of the target. “Oh for heaven’s sake,” she spat. “Must we continue this fruitless exercise?”

  “Now where is your patience, Lady Rutherford?”

  He stepped closer. Charlotte gazed at his sparkling brown eyes in the sun. The pompous ass had become a bit more attractive with each passing day.

  “Do you mind if I put my arm around you and help you in your positioning?”

  Actually looking forward to the physical contact, Charlotte kept a straight face to hide her pleasure at the thought. “No, not at all, Lord Beckett.” She took an arrow and placed it on the rest, latching it upward in place.

  Albert came from behind and reached around the left of her body, placing his hand underneath her own to help steady the bow as she aimed. “I’ve noticed your arm is not entirely straight. Keep it firmly in place without bending your elbow.”

  “All right.” Charlotte felt the warmth of his hand, enjoying the closeness.

  “Now pull back just until your fingers reach the corner of your mouth and hold it there, if you can, for a few moments. Lift the bow into position, aim at the target with the arrow, and slowly release your fingers.”

  The thirty-pound pull felt slightly easier on her third attempt, and she closed her left eye, aimed, and did as Albert suggested. As the arrow cleanly released, it flew forward in a straight path heading for the target. Excited she might hit the thing, she squealed.

  “I think I got it!” A second later a thud hit the lower right edge, firmly embedding the projectile.

  “Much better,” Albert declared. “You did well. With a little more coaching, I’m sure I can turn you into a crack shot that would beat every woman in an archery league.”

  “I don’t fancy I shall join one,” Charlotte responded. “But the sport is much more pleasurable when you hit the mark.” Albert remained close by Charlotte’s side, sporting a confident grin over his achievement. “One more and then I need a cool drink.” She positioned the arrow, drew back, carefully aimed, and released the feathered end toward its target. To her surprise, it landed in a far better position than the last. “I’m a crack shot,” she crowed with pride.

  “Well, not quite,” Albert replied. “Here, let me have a go at it.” He moved over to the left a few spots, choosing a target at forty yards. With a perfect draw from his strong arm and a moment’s aim, he hit the target with exact precision.

  “Hmm,” Charlotte mused. “Another aspect of your personality has revealed itself.”

  “And what’s that?” he remarked, looking at her with a curious raised brow.

  “You’re an exhibitionist, showing off your skill and a bit prideful too.” Her eyes sparkled at him playfully. “I dare say, Lord Beckett, I so enjoy discovering your faults. They are becoming endearing to me.”

  Charlotte kept a civil tone as she winked at him. He stared at her in return and shook his head. “You have much to learn about me, Charlotte. Much indeed.” He unstrung the bow and grabbed the quiver. “Let me buy you a lemonade to quench your thirst. There’s something I need to ask you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Broughton Hall

  The carriage bounced over the ruts in the road on their last leg of their journey, and Albert pondered the day ahead. They had taken a train from London to Bristol and were now bound for the e
state where he grew up.

  Charlotte had nearly choked on her lemonade when Albert invited her for dinner and an overnight stay at his childhood home. At first, she balked at the idea but later reneged. No doubt she had become curious about his upbringing and wanted to know more.

  “And how shall you introduce me to your family? Am I to be your newfound friendly acquaintance or your love interest?” Charlotte queried.

  “Let’s make a game of it, shall we?”

  “You know how much I like games. What do you propose?”

  “I shall introduce you to my family as an acquaintance but shall privately tell them I am thinking of proposing marriage.”

  “Marriage? My, my, we’ve evolved in our relationship.” Charlotte took her index finger and tapped her lips thoughtfully. “What is your intent behind this ruse?”

  “The point of the exercise is for you to get my family’s approval based on your character and behavior while in their midst.”

  Albert, pleased with himself, gloated with a big grin. The outcome would be amusing. Nevertheless, a question remained in his mind. Did he want her to succeed? In all honesty, he wasn’t sure. Based on her recent behavior and indecent exposure, he doubted she could in any fashion or form convince her family he had finally met the perfect match. If he anticipated her failure, then he had unsuccessfully achieved his goal in her reformation. To be frank, after this weekend if no lasting change became evident, he decided to end the pursuit regardless of Cedric’s disapproval.

  “Hmm,” Charlotte purred, poking her finger at him. “Another flaw. You lie when it suits your purpose.”

  “I justify my actions because it suits the greater good of my task to reform you.” He leaned toward the window and pointed. “There is Broughton Hall,” Albert announced proudly. Charlotte turned her head and observed the grand estate.

  “Impressive,” she replied with one dramatic word but void of enthusiasm as if she were hiding her exact thoughts.

  The carriage slowed, came to a halt, and they exited onto the pebbled surface. To Albert’s surprise, his cousin Benjamin sprinted out of doors to greet them.