Page 23 of Not his Marchioness (Daughters of the Ton #2)

“Well, My Lady,” Lady Woodhaven said as she adjusted the large turban on her head.

The gemstones fixed to it jingled and caught the light as Charlotte watched her get up.

“I think we are in agreement. I will help you raise the funds. And if you can find a location, then I dare say we will be in business. Although I ask that you find the building in a place other than St. Giles or Whitechapel. Something a little bit more respectable. Islington, for example. That will do nicely.”

Charlotte wanted to argue that it was the people who lived in Whitechapel and St. Giles who needed schooling the most, but she sensed that now was not the time to bring this up. She was fortunate enough that Lady Woodhaven had taken a genuine interest in her school.

A week had passed since the ball, and while she and Rhys had come to something of a standstill when it came to their connection, her project was coming along rather nicely. She took comfort in that.

Lady Woodhaven had contacted her two days after the ball to inform her that, after much consideration, she and her friends had decided their support would be far more beneficial to Charlotte’s school than the reformists.

She said the word reformist in the sort of tone one might use when one’s porridge was too salty or an apple had gone bad.

Charlotte neglected to inform her that she had been in contact with some of the reformists herself and that they had rejected her ideas.

Why, she did not know as of yet, but she had to assume it had to do with a certain husband and his reputation.

What a shame. She had been looking forward to working with women of a more rebellious spirit. In her head, they’d engaged in wonderfully spirited conversations about reforms, education, and the work of Miss Wollstonecraft.

Now, she had to make do with the sternest, highest in the instep ladies of the ton.

The things one does to achieve one’s dreams…

Today, Lady Woodhaven had presented herself with all manner of documentation, ideas, and plans. It had been such a startling shift from the last time the woman had graced her drawing room that Charlotte hadn’t known what to say at first.

Indeed, she had expected she would wake up at any moment, utterly disappointed because she would find that she had dreamt it all. But she hadn’t.

Throughout the day, Lady Woodhaven had treated her as though she had genuine merit, not as the foolish girl she had deemed her during their last meeting.

Charlotte hadn’t been able to make sense of it until it occurred to her that this was all due to Rhys’s conversation with Lord Woodhaven.

Rhys had a way about him. He could be charming. He could draw people in. It was what he did. What he had always done. He had employed the same charm that could charm the cyprians at St. Giles on Lord Woodhaven. It was a gift, truly.

Yet sometimes she felt it was also a curse. At least for the people who cared for him, for how could you ever know if Rhys was genuine, or if his words were true? Perhaps he was only deploying his charm offensive once more to get what he wanted?

Her thoughts wandered back to the kiss, her lips tingling gently.

They hadn’t spoken much since. They each kept their distance, although the conversations they had were cordial.

She couldn’t deny that there were times when she wished that things were different.

She wished that she could walk into his study and talk to him.

Invite him into the library again to discuss some more scandalous books. But it wasn’t to be.

“Your husband most certainly convinced my husband that this was the finest idea he had heard in a very long time. He certainly has skill, that husband of yours.”

“He does,” she agreed. “That cannot be denied.”

Lady Woodhaven paused. “I feel it is my duty to say that usually my friends and I would not keep company with a young lady with a reputation as colorful as yours.”

Charlotte stiffened. She had been well aware of that without Lady Woodhaven telling her so.

The older woman looked up, tilting her head to the side. “But sometimes a little unusual thinking can be just what we need.”

“I am aware that you find me somewhat rebellious.”

Lady Woodhaven chuckled. “Somewhat? My dear, one hundred years ago, if you had appeared in anyone’s ballroom dressed as Lucifer himself and made an announcement as you did, you would have most likely been flogged. But these are different times.”

She lowered her voice. “And truthfully, since our first meeting, I have made some inquiries, and I must say that I find your father’s behavior reprehensible. I heard about what he did to your sister, and I could not believe he had attempted to do the same with you.”

She looked surprised, contemplating Charlotte in her own peculiar way. It certainly sounded like it.

“I felt I could not go quietly into a future that was going to make me utterly miserable,” Charlotte admitted.

The older woman nodded. “That I can understand. As long as you are certain that it was the right decision, then we shall not speak on the matter any further. Now, venture forth and find a suitable location. Tell me the price, and we will see what can be done.”

Charlotte saw Lady Woodhaven out. As soon as the front door closed, she exhaled sharply, her shoulders dropping. She would finally have her school.

She walked back, then up the stairs to her chamber, when she spotted Rhys down the hall. What he was doing could not be called walking because he was swaying his hips as though he were dancing, his arms moving in a rhythm that conveyed the ease he felt.

“I trust your meeting went well?” he asked.

“It did,” she replied, and glanced at his hand. The bandage he had been wearing for the last few days was gone. “I see your hand is improved?”

“It is,” he said and raised it. “It took a while, but it is better.”

“You must take care in the future,” she cautioned. “An injury like that can get very bad if an infection sets in.”

“I did not know that you were secretly a physician as well as a school teacher.”

“I am neither.” She flicked her wrist. “But I do possess something that you may have heard of. It is called common sense. Quite popular on the Continent, I hear.”

“Ah,” he said with a smile. “I had not heard of it. I shall make inquiries.”

“Please do; it might help you avoid mishaps in the future,” she riposted.

But there was a lightness between them. It was in these moments of levity that had been sprinkled into their interactions these past weeks.

While most of the time they were cordial to each other, there were moments like these that stood in stark contrast. Moments that made her long for a different reality for them both.

They were few and far between, but when they happened, her heart always skipped a beat. This was inevitably followed by her feeling upset with herself for once again falling into his trap. But she supposed that if one ended up married to a rake, then this was what one should expect.

“Do not forget the masquerade ball tonight,” he said, growing serious.

“Masquerade ball?” She furrowed her brow.

“Yes.” He nodded. “I told you about it at breakfast two days ago. You were busy with your journal, but you acknowledged what I said. Have you been simply appeasing me?”

She didn’t know what to say because the truth was, she had been appeasing him. She remembered that morning well. She had been very busy making a list of issues she wanted to bring up to Lady Woodhaven while he had spoken regarding something or other related to the mail he had received that morning.

“It is at Lady Haversham’s. Since it’s a masquerade, I suggested that we dress as Athena and Apollo.”

“But I haven’t got a costume,” she protested.

His jaw tightened. “I told you that my parents have an abundance of costumes in a trunks packed away. They have the very costume I was thinking of. But if that is too elaborate, we can rethink it.”

“No, not at all,” she said. “It is just that I have not planned to go to any masquerade. I had intended to find a location for my school. I did not know my presence was required at these events.”

His face darkened. “That was our agreement. This is what we must do to keep up the charade. Some people may believe us a happily married pair now—it is certainly helpful that the Woodhavens do—but we are not finished. I need you to accompany me to the masquerade. Many lords I am in business with will be there. Viscount Grover, with whom I share several mines. The Duke of Windsor, who is my partner in several vineyards and wineries… amongst others. They are the two who have been most dubious about our business connection due to my reputation. They need to see me with my beautiful wife.”

“Very well, I will be there. I will ask Margot to come to Islington with me the following day, to look for a location for the school,” she relented.

To say that she felt torn would be an understatement.

A part of her wanted to go to the masquerade ball with him, even hoped that they would dance again as they had before, but another part dreaded it.

Not only because she would rather have gone to Islington, perhaps with Evelyn or Margot, to find a suitable location, but also because she remembered vividly the dream she had had in which he had kissed her so passionately, and she knew that she would not be able to convince herself not to hope for something like that every time they were close.

“Good,” he said. “And if you wish, I will accompany you and Margot to Islington tomorrow, and we can look for locations together.”

She hadn’t expected that. She wanted to protest, to tell him that she didn’t need him.

But the truth was, Islington was not the very best of neighborhoods.

Besides, she knew nothing about real estate.

Nothing about what the property was worth.

And she didn’t want to look a fool in front of Lady Woodhaven when she asked her what location she’d found.

With her luck, she would find the perfect location, only to discover it was infested with rats or belonged to some disgraced baron.

Besides, a part of her wouldn’t mind being with her husband. And Margot would be there. She hadn’t asked her yet, but her cousin would not disappoint her.

Margot would serve as a barrier between them.

Yes, she would ensure that Charlotte’s thoughts remained chaste and proper. And she would certainly keep Rhys from making those eyes at her. And that smirk that always made her weak in the knees.

It would be fine. Charlotte would find the perfect location for her school and set the project in motion, while they would woo his investors. And soon enough—very soon—they would go their separate ways just as they had always planned.

And that day could not come soon enough, for if it didn’t, she knew that there was only so much fight she could put up against what her heart and body so achingly wanted.