An Inconvenient Trilogy (31 page)

The Baron’s eyes lit up at the thought of a regular income with a new customer. A large regular income, if his tastes were directed to the more unusual. “Good, which girl is it you require?”

Stephen paused; he hoped Peters knew what he was doing. “I tend to prefer Laura, but I’m not really bothered who it is.” He had to give the impression that Laura wasn’t that important or Kersal may become suspicious.

“Do you think she’s strong enough for an active night?” Peters asked the Baron with a leer.

“She will be. You will see that all my girls are capable of whatever the gentlemen want.” Baron Kersal replied. He led the gentlemen up to the first floor and led them into a large bedroom. The four poster bed dominated the room. The fire was lit and there was a decanter of wine and clean glasses on a small table. There was one chair, but apart from that the room was empty. The Baron’s view was that excess furniture was a waste of money.

“Is this room acceptable, gentlemen?” Baron Kersal asked.

“This is fine, all we are missing is the lady to make sure our night is a success,” Peters said, handing over a substantial amount of his evenings winnings. Stephen had noticed that he had kept an amount back, which the Baron did not seem to notice. As he was being paid around ten times what he was normally paid for the use of one of his girls, Stephen doubted that he would care that he had not actually received all the money back.

The two men were left alone, the Baron assuring them that Laura would be with them soon.

“I hope you know what you are doing,” Stephen said quietly.

Peters smiled slightly and nodded. He moved to the bed and started to close the bed curtains.

“What are you up to now?” Stephen asked.

“Rooms like this will usually have peep holes, so that some of the men who can’t afford a woman, or who prefer to watch rather than take part, can look on. I don’t perform for anyone.”

Stephen had a sudden sick feeling to his stomach. He was not sure whether it was because most of his acquaintances had probably seen him perform at one time or another, or whether it was because he was not sure what the night was about to bring. Whichever it was he longed to be hundreds of miles away from this house. Where, he could not openly acknowledge, because to think of that, to think of
her
, while he was about to do goodness knew what, was a slight on her innocence. It was going to be a long evening.

Chapter 13

Charlotte had dressed carefully for the ball. She loved the dresses she now owned through Stephen’s and Elizabeth’s kindness. Stephen. If only she could dance with him, she thought with a sigh. They had jumped a few stages of a normal relationship, straight to kisses and marriage proposals and heartache. Not the stuff of romance novels, where the hero woos the heroine and there is a steady progress of the romance, she thought ruefully.

The preparations for the ball had been different to the other entertainments that had been going on. Charlotte knew that both Violet and Elizabeth hoped that she was going to make a match of it with someone in the area. Elizabeth had confided one day that, although she was no matchmaker, she was hoping that Charlotte would settle in Somerset, so that Elizabeth could enjoy her company for longer. The two had grown close over the weeks of her visit, and Charlotte had to admit that to be able to see Elizabeth every week would be a real temptation when thinking of a place to live.

She could have laughed off the matchmaking if she did not think that there was going to be an approach to Lord Dunham for her hand in marriage. She was flattered that she had been welcomed into local Society, although she acknowledged that it was her connections with the Dunhams that ensured she would be accepted. What Charlotte failed to realise was that her admirers were genuine. Yes, she had no fortune, but she was a beautiful girl and her liveliness and kind nature were very real added attractions to the young men of the area.

Mr O’Hara was the most persistent of her admirers and she worried in case she was being rude by her behaviour towards him. She was doing her best to make him understand that she was not interested in him romantically. He called every day, he sent flowers every morning, and he asked for the first dances whenever there was the opportunity. Tonight, again, he had secured the first two dances. Charlotte had been unable to refuse, she did not want to encourage him, but she could also not refuse the request of dancing, if she hoped to dance with anyone else. It would be a poor reflection on herself and her hosts. She had decided though, that she had to tell him that he must not continue with this attention. Others, in the wider social circle were beginning to speculate on a match between them.

Charlotte smiled to herself as Maggie stood behind her, performing her usual magic on Charlotte’s hair. A few months ago and Mr O’Hara would have been everything she had ever wanted. He was handsome, funny, kind and thoughtful, everything that a good husband should be. He had only one fault and that was, he was not Lord Halkyn. No matter how perfect Mr O’Hara was, how comfortable his income was, how nice his house in Bristol was, he was not Lord Halkyn. He could not make her heart race; could not make butterflies appear in her stomach, or make her blush at a look or a word. He would never be someone that she could fall in love with; she liked him, but did not love him.

She stood before the full length mirror in the corner of her bed chamber. Tonight she had to be polite but clear, she would set him straight on her feelings. Her appearance gave her courage; her dress was made of a pale green silk. It suited her blond colouring perfectly and brought out the colouring in her eyes. She was not officially out yet, but Violet had suggested that she come out in London, while visiting with them. Officially, she should not have been attending such a grand ball, but because she was unknown in the area Elizabeth had insisted that it was a minor technicality, to which Lord Dunham had shaken his head in despair.

Her hair had been expertly curled by Maggie and ringlets allowed to fall, framing her face and tickling her neck. Maggie had a wonderful technique of arranging her hair, so that it bounced as she walked. Elizabeth had given her a small necklace of silver chain with an emerald droplet. It was perfect for a girl not long into Society. Her apparel was completed with the pale green ribbon that secured her hair.

Charlotte smiled at herself; she looked every inch the lady, not a young girl virtually on her own in the world, and lucky to be in such fine surroundings. It still made her shudder to think how different her life could have been but for Lord Halkyn’s help. He would never realise how much happiness he had inadvertently brought her, she had never experienced family life such as she was now involved with every day, and she loved every moment.

She thanked Maggie and left her bed chamber. It was time to join Elizabeth, Michael, Violet and Edward in greeting the guests. She was nervous, but excited too. Her first ball, in such a fine house, with nearly all of the people she cared about most gathered around her.

*

The music struck up for the first dance and Charlotte was approached by Mr O’Hara. He led her onto the ballroom floor and they began their journey down the long set. They chatted when they met in the dance, mainly about the ball and those present. Charlotte knew her moment had to be chosen well. When they reached the bottom of the set and waited to rejoin the dance, Mr O’Hara changed the tone of the conversation slightly.

“You look beautiful tonight Miss Webster,” he said with a smile. He was dressed finely himself, a dark frock coat, contrasting with a royal blue waistcoat. His cream breeches and white stockings set off his outfit. With his dark hair and dark eyes, set against his pale complexion he looked every inch the fine gentleman he was.

“Thank you,” Charlotte said demurely. Compliments were always something she did not quite know how to respond to, not being used to receiving them.

“I am the luckiest man here tonight,” Mr O’Hara continued his flattery. “I can see all the others glaring daggers at me as we dance.”

Charlotte laughed. “I think you exaggerate, Mr O’Hara,” she said, dismissing his words.

“I don’t think so, I can almost hear their mutterings!” Mr O’Hara continued determined to woo his chosen one.

They rejoined the set and Mr O’Hara continued his bantering, sometimes making Charlotte laugh, sometimes making her groan at him. He pretended to take offence, but laughed when she appeared concerned that she had insulted him.

As the dance came to an end, he took Charlotte’s hand. “We have the next dance, but could I persuade you to miss it?”

“Of course, are you unwell?” Charlotte asked with concern.

“No, I would like to speak with you. I realise that I can’t take you out of the ballroom, but if we could sit by this window, I shall obtain some refreshments and we can take the opportunity of speaking without the interruption of the other dancers,” Mr O’Hara said, leading her to an empty chair.

Charlotte did not want a tete-a-tete, but she realised it may be the only opportunity to speak to him in relative privacy. The windows along the ball room were slightly inset, creating a small seating area in front of each window. As it was the early part of the evening, some of the windows were still closed, something that would change as the heat increased.

Charlotte sat compliantly and waited while Mr O’Hara gave instructions to a footman to bring them some wine. Charlotte was not sure about drinking wine, but the footman had disappeared before she could utter any objections. Mr O’Hara sat in the chair next to her; they were in full view of the ballroom, so it was perfectly acceptable.

“You do know that I want to take your hands, no I want to take
you
into my arms at this moment,” Mr O’Hara said, quietly enough that no one passing could overhear.

Charlotte blushed, but her voice was firm, “Mr O’Hara, I am not used to such talk, please let us not be silly and spoil what is promising to be a lovely evening.”

Mr O’Hara smiled, “You wish me to hide my feelings? Miss Webster ever since I have met you, I have wanted to shout them to the whole world, and I am not a man who is used to feeling so strong an emotion as this.”

They were interrupted by the footman returning with two glasses of wine. Charlotte grasped hers gratefully, all worries gone of drinking something that she was unused to, as she took a large gulp. Mr O’Hara’s words were making her slightly uncomfortable and panicked.

“Mr O’Hara, please do not utter such things!” she pleaded, after allowing herself a moment to get over the burning of the wine as it travelled down her throat.

“Why not? Why can I not be honest before the woman who I wish to address as something more than Miss Webster?” Mr O’Hara said.

“Because I do not return those feelings!” Charlotte said bluntly.

Mr O’Hara looked surprised, but not disheartened. “I realise I am being forceful with you, we have barely known each other more than a few weeks, but in time you could develop feelings for me. If we could make things more official, we don’t need to marry immediately, we could take our time.”

Charlotte finished off her wine quickly and placed her glass down on a conveniently placed side table. “Mr O’Hara, I’m flattered, I truly am, but I don’t wish to marry you, not now, or at any time in the future.”

“Give me time, that’s all I ask,” Mr O’Hara persisted.

Charlotte frowned, he was being too insistent, too intense for such a location, they were in a public place. People may notice. Her fears were confirmed when they were interrupted by Violet.

“Ah there you are my dear,” she said speaking to Charlotte. “Elizabeth would like to introduce you to a latecomer; he is hoping that you still have room on your dance card.”

Charlotte rose, feeling the effects of drinking a glass of wine quickly, but managed to remain composed. She was grateful for the opportunity to leave Mr O’Hara, she had been dismayed when she had seen his frown at the information that a guest wanted to dance with her. “Of course, please excuse us Mr O’Hara, I hope you enjoy the remainder of your evening.” She hoped by her words that he would get the message that she would not be seeking out his company again.

Violet linked her arm through Charlotte’s as they skirted the dancers. “I thought it time to intervene,” she said smiling at people as they passed.

“Thank you, it was most opportune,” Charlotte responded gratefully. “Mr O’Hara was becoming a little intense.”

“Yes, it looks like you have made a conquest there my dear,” Violet said happily.

“Unfortunately, he is not listening to the fact that I do not wish for him to be anything more than an acquaintance!” Charlotte said firmly.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Violet replied. “He would have been such a suitable young man.”

“It appears that I still prefer someone who is most unsuitable,” Charlotte said sadly.

Violet patted her hand in sympathy. “Work hard to forget him, let the others have a chance to show what happiness they can offer. Excitement is fine, but marriage needs to be based on trust and affection. To not be happy in a marriage can make the soul wither and die; I have seen it happen time and again, please don’t let me see that happen with you, my dear.”

Charlotte sighed, “I know, I am trying honestly, just no one seems to compare to him.”

Violet handed Charlotte over to Elizabeth and was introduced to Mr Dawson, an old friend of Lord Dunham’s and a very dear one of Elizabeth’s. He seemed a pleasant gentleman and offered to take Charlotte in to supper when he realised her dance card was full. She agreed to this, as she had immediately warmed to this gentleman who would be staying with them for the coming week.

Charlotte put Mr O’Hara to the back of her mind as she danced with her other partners. They flirted and she laughed, not taking their words seriously, but in the spirit most of them had been given. She was realistic, she was not an heiress, so although she was a popular dance partner, she would not been seen as a serious consideration by many of those gathered here. That was perfectly acceptable, she was not looking to marry. At least, no one from Somerset anyway.

Mr O’Hara appeared by her side when the supper gong was rung and was deeply offended that Charlotte would not be going into supper with himself, even though no arrangement had been made to this end previously. He glared at Mr Dawson as he held out his arm for Charlotte.

“It seems I should watch my behaviour tonight, or I am liable to be called out by your young man,” Mr Dawson said, good naturedly as they entered the crush of the supper room.

“He is not my young man,” Charlotte replied. “Until tonight, I thought he was very pleasant and amenable, but he is rapidly becoming the annoyance of the night,” she said with feeling.

Mr Dawson chuckled and shook his head. It seemed that Elizabeth had found herself a like minded friend, one who said exactly what she was feeling. When he had made sure that Charlotte was seated comfortably, he offered to get her a drink.

“Would you be kind enough to bring me a glass of wine?” Charlotte asked, with a faint blush at Mr Dawson’s raised eyebrow. “I really feel I need one after Mr O’Hara’s behaviour.”

Mr Dawson nodded and brought over two glasses and then returned to bring some food. Charlotte picked at the food while being entertained by Mr Dawson. He was very fond of Elizabeth and Lord Dunham, and took pleasure in telling Charlotte some of their earlier escapades, those which were suitable for a lady’s ears. She drank the wine and asked for another; the wine and Mr Dawson’s charm were making the night seem pleasant once more.

The dancing started again and Charlotte was entertained by her partner, she felt light headed, but freer, more open to the compliments and empty flirting, she found everything very funny. After two dances, she needed to sit down. She excused herself and sat in one of the window bays and watched the dancing. It was a lovely evening. She felt in need of something to drink, so skirted the edge of the dancing and made her way to the refreshment room. She could have sent a footman, but wanted to move around. The table was laid out, with a footman busy serving. She obtained a glass of wine and moved out of the room. She drank quickly; she was due to start another dance when the music ended.