Page 9 of One Scandal Too Many (Havenwood Academy #1)

C harlotte wanted to scream. It wouldn’t help, and in fact, would probably ensure the situation would be far worse than its current state. The Marquess of Easton and his friends were joining them for their picnic. This excursion was meant to be a celebration of sorts. They had been set free from the confines of the castle and given permission to leave the school grounds. The rain had stopped, and the gloomy skies had disappeared.

Instead of enjoying the sunshine, she had to spend the afternoon in the company of the marquess. Admittedly, he was still as handsome to behold as she recalled, but that did not mean she wished to be near him. His nearness made her want something that she could never have: him. He had made his feelings clear, and they had not been favorable. She had to forget about his arrogant arse. That would be impossible if she had to spend any amount of time in his company.

“Charlotte,” Jaclyn said. “Are you not hungry?”

Her appetite had disappeared the moment the three gentlemen had joined them for their picnic. She should eat something for appearances’ sake, though. Charlotte didn’t want her friends to worry overmuch about her. They would continue to ask questions if she failed to partake in their picnic fare. She perused the offerings that Georgina had packed and selected some cheese and bread. She met Jaclyn’s gaze and smiled. “I’m famished,” she lied, then took a bite of the cheese. Charlotte chewed in slow, deliberate bites and swallowed. It tasted foul in her mouth, but she forced herself to eat more of it, and the bread. “You don’t appear to be enjoying your food,” the marquess drawled. “Perhaps you should try something else.”

There were some biscuits and some early blueberries from the garden. Soon they would also have blackberries. She was looking forward to those. Charlotte grabbed a handful of blueberries and popped a plump berry into her mouth. The tangy sweetness rolled over her tongue, and she moaned. At least the berries didn’t taste terrible. “My food is perfectly acceptable,” she told him in a mulish tone.

He swallowed hard as he stared at her. “I gather that.” He shook his head slightly and then glanced away. Did it bother him so much to look at her? Well, then he should just leave already. She would be far happier if he did.

No... that wasn’t exactly true. She would have liked it if he didn’t view her as someone he would rather not know. Charlotte wanted him to desire her the way she did him. Apparently that was too much to ask.

“We shouldn’t stay too much longer,” Jaclyn said. “We’ve already been gone from school longer than we should have.”

What was Jaclyn going on about? They could stay out far longer than they had. They barely had much of a picnic and time away. Charlotte glanced at her friend and frowned. That was when she noticed her friend’s unease. She didn’t wish to be there any more than Charlotte. The Duke of Amberwood looked equally uncomfortable. He appeared to struggle not to look at Jaclyn, and her friend seemed to be suffering from a similar dilemma. What had she missed? Was Jaclyn acquainted with the duke? She would have to ask her friend about that when they were alone.

“Go back now?” Georgina asked in a confused tone. “But...”

“Jaclyn is correct.” Charlotte interrupted Georgina before she said something that unraveled Jaclyn’s ruse. “We wouldn’t want the headmistress to be upset with us.” She stood. “I’ll pack up the basket.”

“No, I can...” Georgina scrambled to her feet and rushed to take the picnic basket from Charlotte. She lost her balance and stumbled in her haste. “Oh,” she shouted as she fell. Unfortunately, no one was close enough to catch her, and she hit the ground hard.

“Are you all right?” the Earl of Foxmoore asked. He leaned over to examine her. “Did you hurt anything?”

“My ankle,” Georgina said. “It turned when I fell. I’m not certain I can walk.”

They should not have rushed Georgina. If Charlotte and Jaclyn had remained patient and just suffered through the grueling picnic, then their friend might not have hurt herself. Now they would have to ascertain the best possible way to help her return to the school, and once they were there explain what had befallen her. Charlotte hated to think what the instructors and their headmistress might think of them. They were selfish fools. “Does it hurt very much?” Charlotte asked.

Georgina attempted to stand but winced and sat back down. “I definitely cannot walk.”

“She will have to be placed on one of our horses,” Easton said in a firm tone. “And escorted back to the school.

Charlotte didn’t like this plan; however, she had to concede it would be the best solution for Georgina’s predicament. “Yes,” she agreed. “Are you all right with this, Georgina?” With her shy nature, she might find this as uncomfortable as her sprained ankle.

Georgina glanced at Charlotte, and then at the marquess. She nibbled on her bottom lip as if considering how to answer the question.

“I can escort her back,” the earl said. Georgina swung her gaze toward him and blinked in surprise.

“You will?” she asked.

“I will,” he said. Then Lord Foxmoore turned to the marquess. “May we borrow your horse? She can sit upon mine better. My mare is more sedate than your stallion. I’ll ride yours and she can ride mine, if that is all right with you.”

Lord Easton nodded. “Of course.” Then he smiled at Georgina. “You never said if you’re all right with accepting our assistance.”

“I am, thank you, my lord,” Georgina replied demurely.

“Then that is settled,” Lord Easton declared. “Foxmoore will escort Miss Georgina back on his horse. We will remain with the other two ladies.” He nodded at Charlotte and Jaclyn. “And walk with them.”

Wonderful. That was not what Charlotte wanted to hear. “That is unnecessary,” Charlotte told him. “Jaclyn and I will be all right walking on our own. We walk these paths every day and do not meet any harm.”

“Nevertheless,” Lord Easton replied in a tone that suggested arguing with him would be futile. “We will walk with you. Besides, I will have to retrieve my horse at the school. We may as well accompany you.” He motioned toward the duke. “If you don’t mind, you can lead your horse as we walk.”

“I think that is a perfectly acceptable solution,” the duke replied casually.

Charlotte gritted her teeth. Of course he agreed with Lord Easton. They were probably silently communicating on how to best disrupt Charlotte’s day. Jaclyn didn’t seem any more pleased with this outcome. Charlotte could not wait to be alone with her friend and ask her why she seemed disturbed by the Duke of Amberwood’s presence.

“Now that we’ve settled what we are to do,” Lord Easton said. “Let’s assist Miss Georgina onto the horse.”

“I’ll do it,” Lord Foxmoore replied. “If you’ll hold the mare’s reins while I help her onto the saddle.”

Lord Easton nodded and complied. Lord Foxmoore lifted Georgina into his arms and carried her over to the horse and then helped her mount it. She sat stiffly on the saddle as the marquess handed her the reins.

“Go slowly,” the duke said. “If she falls off the saddle, she’ll be in a far worse condition.”

The earl rolled his eyes. “I’m aware of what needs to be done.” With those words he mounted his own horse, then nodded at Georgina. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“I am,” Georgina replied.

They started down the path together, leaving Jaclyn and Charlotte alone with the other two gentlemen. She sighed. There was no avoiding this situation any longer. She packed up the picnic basket and folded the quilt. Once that was completed, she said, “Everything is ready. We may depart now.”

She went to lift the basket, but the marquess took it and held it out of her reach. “I’ll carry this,” he decreed.

“If you insist,” she said. “Then by all means. Carry it.”

They fell into step together. She would have rather walked with Jaclyn, but she seemed detained by the duke; they were strolling along behind Charlotte and the marquess. Charlotte held the quilt in her hand like it would somehow protect her from Lord Easton and his intentions.

“Your friend will be all right,” the marquess reassured her.

Why was he speaking as if they were more than mere acquaintances? Why did he care if she might be concerned about Georgina? “She will be.” What else could she say? This seemed so awkward she didn’t know how to move past it. Maybe those deportment lessons would have been more useful if she’d paid more attention. Her current social encounter could have been handled with more decorum if she’d practiced more like her teacher had instructed. Charlotte was at a loss as to how to even hold a conversation with the marquess now. It should not be so difficult. But here she was, unable to find words to fill the void between them.

Silence fell around them as they continued down the path. She didn’t know what to say or how to ease this tension between them. They had a more heated exchange before, and now this. That desire still steamed between them; however, now there was something else there. Something she didn’t quite understand, and she did not like it.

*

Declan had never felt anything like this before. He’d never been so at a loss for words. Their conversation was stilted and uncomfortable. He did not know how to proceed. Perhaps he should forget about his obsession with her. It would be for the best. Especially since he had no intention of offering for her. He had no desire for marriage, but his growing need to be near her was alarming Should he reevaluate everything he had previously believed... for her? Declan had much to consider, but later. When he wasn’t so distracted by the beautiful woman beside him.

He inwardly shook. He sneaked a glance at her. Declan had been thinking of her for days now. How could he make his longing cease? He had to find a way to make it stop. That was why he wanted to spend time with her. That had to be the only reason. The more time he was in her company, the less he would find her so damn appealing.

“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” The weather? How boring of a conversation starter. As if he couldn’t think of anything better. He should have stayed indoors an extra day. Perhaps then he might have been able to find a modicum of intelligence.

“It is,” she answered readily. “That was why we were so happy to be able to enjoy it. We’ve been relegated to remain inside the castle walls for the days on end of rain we’ve had lately.”

She didn’t seem to mind the topic. Perhaps she was grasping onto it because she didn’t know what to speak about either. It was ridiculous, really. “What do you do when you are indoors? Have more classes?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Our head mistress is not that cruel.” She laughed lightly, and it sent shivers down his spine. He loved that sound and wanted to hear it more. “Though our classes are not terrible. I even enjoy some of them.”

“How long have you been at Havenwood?” Why had her family sent her there? He knew what they whispered about the school. Many said it was where families sent their daughters after they were embroiled in some sort of scandal. Declan wanted to know her story.

“A year,” she said absentmindedly. “There are not many students that remain during the summer break. Another week and the school will be emptier.”

He hadn’t thought about that. She could be leaving. She could be leaving soon. What would he do then? Declan didn’t intend to remain at his estate long. He would return to London in the fall. Not that he would never return, but what were the chances they would cross paths in the winter months? She would be less likely to take a stroll in the woods during winter. “Are you one of the students leaving?” Declan held his breath as he awaited her answer.

She shook her head, and he let the breath whoosh out as relief flooded him. What was bloody wrong with him? He should want her to leave. “My father wishes for me to remain here until he deems it necessary for me to return to the family.” There was sadness in her tone that made his heart hurt, and he couldn’t help wondering, again, what she’d done to be banished to Havenwood.

He shifted the basket he was carrying in his arms and frowned. “Do you want to go home?” he asked her. Maybe she didn’t wish to see her family as much as her family wanted her to remain in exile.

“At first I did.” She sighed. “I don’t even know why I am telling you this.” Charlotte took a deep breath. “My father can be... exacting.” She continued to walk without speaking for several moments. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t explain further, but then she started to speak again. “Because of that, he doesn’t make decisions lightly. Once he makes a decision, he is fastidious and doesn’t change his mind. On our way here, he explained in detail what he expected of me. I knew as soon as he left that I would not be returning home until he believed I was ready. I may not even know what he decides until the last second.” She shrugged. “I like it here. Now that I’ve been here for a while, it almost feels like it is where I belong.”

“You don’t want to go home?” That seemed wrong somehow. Who didn’t want to go home? Isn’t that the one place a person felt the safest?

“I don’t have a home,” she said quietly. “My father has never been a kind man. Fair, yes, but not kind. I am happier here.”

There was more there. She was leaving out details, but perhaps she didn’t trust him with those secrets. Who would she tell? That friend of hers that had been with her when she spied on them at the pond—Lady Jaclyn. They seemed much closer than she was with the other girl, the one that Foxmoore was escorting back to the school.

“My mother wants to have a house party,” he found himself saying the words without realizing he spoke. Why was he telling her this?

“Is that so?” She grinned. “You don’t sound thrilled with the prospect.”

“Because I’m not,” he said gruffly. “It is my home. I don’t wish to share it with guests.”

There was a light in her eyes that had not been there previously. She seemed much more jovial. “That is why you should have it, then.”

“Come again?” He frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“It will make you appreciate it all the more once the guests have all left.” She hugged that quilt she was carrying tighter against her. “You don’t really know what you have until you might lose it. Welcoming those to your home will help you understand the gift better. Do you understand? Not everyone is as lucky as you are. Share it.”

Declan supposed he could see it through her eyes. She felt as if she had no home and was grateful to remain at school, a place that never would be a home for her, but at least made her feel safe. Perhaps he should follow her advice and allow his mother to have the bloody house party. He would hate every second of it. “Would you come if invited?” Did he want her there?

She laughed again, and it was music to his ears. “Not likely,” she told him. “My father would never allow me to attend a house party.”

“But you’re at school,” he reminded her. “Would he even know?”

She shook her head. “That’s all the more reason that I shouldn’t be allowed to attend. I have to do as he wishes, don’t I?”

Declan didn’t like it. He hated it, in fact. He would have that house party, and she would attend. There had to be a work- around to ensure she would be a part of it. He would discuss it with Mrs. Havenwood. The headmistress of the school would have to be informed either way, and perhaps she would have a solution that he would be able to utilize. When he returned home, he would discuss his plans with his mother. She would be thrilled to have permission to move forward with her plans. He almost shuddered at the thought. His mother would take full advantage of the situation too.

“If that is what you want, then who am I to argue?” he said. She hadn’t been actually asking a question, but he felt the need to reply. She wanted to please her father, though she didn’t sound happy about the prospect. They broke through the trees and entered the school grounds. The castle loomed in the distance, all dark against the summer sky. It was striking in its intensity. “It appears we have arrived.” They would have to separate soon. Amberwood and Lady Jaclyn were in front of them and had almost reached the entrance. They could see the other two horses tied to a post near the school. Foxmoore had completed his task. When he reached the horses, they could return back to his estate, and if he wanted, he could forget about this afternoon. He wouldn’t, though.

“Yes, we have,” she said in a quiet tone. “This is where we part, my lord.”

“For now,” he said, then tilted his lips into a wicked smile. “There will be other times.”

“Will there?” She lifted a brow. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I never said that,” he told her. “As I told you before when you mentioned this.”

“I remember,” she said in an aggravated tone. “I’m not for you.” She narrowed her gaze. “It begs the question: What lady would be your perfect pairing?”

His mind whispered one name: Charlotte . That’s not what he said, however. “One doesn’t exist.” His tone was gruff as he reined in the emotion threatening to flood out of him. This was all becoming too much for him. Declan barely knew her, but there was something about her he couldn’t resist. He was hopeless in his need to possess her, to understand her, and to unravel everything that made her Charlotte.

They reached the entrance. He had to leave. Declan needed that distance to fully work through all that he had learned that day. “Good day, Lady Charlotte,” he said as he handed her the basket he’d been carrying. “Until we meet again.” He strode away from her without another word. He had things to do. A party to plan, and a headmistress to have a word with. After that... Declan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The rest might not go as he wished, but he had to try. He needed to know her, and he would have this time to do it.