Page 14 of The Honorable Rogue (The Notorious Nightingales #5)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

C harles arrived at the ball alone after delivering some more pages to the Trumpeter on the way there. People were reading his story and loving it, so Cambridge’s message had said, I need more now . He had decided they would run his stories twice a week.

Just this morning, Ivy had ignored Charles when he’d entered the parlor because she’d been reading another installment of The Adventures of Mr. Salvador . She’d then explained in detail what was going on, and he’d given the appropriate response, even though he knew what was happening because he’d written it.

Charles knew he should tell his family, and he would when the time was right. He just wasn’t sure when that would be.

Entering the ballroom, he looked around for his family or someone he knew. But who he really wanted to see was Violet, even as he’d lectured himself before arriving about avoiding her. He’d thought of her constantly since that kiss, but that was not the only reason he needed to speak to her .

“Good evening, Mr. Thomas. How wonderful to see you again.”

“Lady Shriver.” He bowed.

“My husband is from town this weekend.” She leaned forward and gave him a view of her breasts, and he saw the promise of more in her eyes.

“I’m away also this weekend,” he said quickly.

She let out a little mew of disappointment, and he moved on.

Women saw Charles as someone to have fun with, but few took him seriously. He had no title or fortune, only what he had amassed. He was acceptable to have a liaison with, a dance with upon occasion, but nothing more.

“A close call, Mr. Thomas.”

“Captain Brownly.” Charles bowed. They had recently become acquainted, and he found he liked the man very much.

“I was recently approached by Lady Shriver also,” he said. “You have my sympathies.”

“Yes, she is quite determined,” Charles said.

He liked women and had had a few discreet liaisons, but unlike his brother-in-law before he’d met Flora, he did not make a habit of lying with society women.

“Well, nice to meet you again, Captain Brownly.”

“And you, Mr. Thomas.”

Wandering the edges of the ballroom, he saw Violet heading toward him. Her head was down, which in a setting such as this was not advised. Clearly, she was deep in thought.

He moved two steps to the right and waited. As she drew closer, he could hear her talking to herself, and Charles thought the words were Russian. She then walked right into him, but he was ready for it.

“Perhaps I may suggest that you keep your eyes forward when circumnavigating a ballroom, Miss Althorp. We both know you have a penchant for running into people.”

I look down a great deal. She’d said those words that day in the bookshop after telling him she didn’t like crooked things.

Her little squeak was not loud and barely discernible with so much noise around them.

“I was thinking,” she said, her eyes going to his and away again.

“Well may I suggest you think with your eyes raised in the future?”

The rose silk suited her, Charles thought. As did the little rose flowers pinned in her hair. She looked sweet and innocent, and he wanted to devour her.

“Yes, well, perhaps I will try that.” She gave him a curt nod. “How is your shoulder, Mr. Thomas?”

“Much better, thank you. How is your knitting going?”

She smiled then, showing off her small white teeth, and some of the tension left her body. “I have nearly made a scarf.”

“Why, Miss Althorp, and there was me thinking you were an honest person.”

She laughed, and he was pleased to see it was genuine.

“Will you dance with me?” Her dance card was likely already full, and then there was the fact he’d decided to avoid her, which he’d made a mockery of by stepping directly into her path.

“I will, thank you,” she said in a prim little voice with no hesitation.

He held out his arm, and they made their way to the floor. Placing her in the line opposite, he stood next to Alex, who was dancing with Ellen, as Harriet was no longer attending social functions.

“Did you hear that someone stole two more Russian first editions from Lord Ainsworth’s house today?” Alex asked .

Charles thought about the piece of paper he found in that book he’d purchased the day he’d injured his shoulder. He could never decipher it, but Violet could.

“I didn’t hear that. Unlike you, I do not have a thirst for gossip, so people don’t spend time filling my head with useless information.”

“You have no idea what you are missing. Gossip is how you stay abreast of things.” His cousin’s eyes then went to Violet before returning to him.

“What?” Charles asked at Alex’s raised brow.

“I heard you were waxing lyrical about Miss Althorp when you were injured after she’d rescued you.”

“She did not rescue me. She merely helped me home,” Charles said quietly. “And I was under the influence of whatever was in that drink Mr. Greedy gave me. I could have waxed lyrical about anyone.”

“There is always a grain of truth when we are under the influence,” Alex said.

His cousin always had something to say you didn’t want to hear.

“That will do, thank you,” Charles said, shooting Violet a look. She was conversing with Ellen.

“Have I touched a nerve, Cousin?”

Ignoring him, Charles moved toward Violet as the music began. She had her lower lip trapped between her teeth, and Charles wondered what she was trying not to say.

“Have you purchased a new reticule?” Why those words came out of his mouth he had no idea. The woman unsettled him, clearly.

“My sister collects them, so she gave me one of hers.”

“Which sister?” Charles asked, looking around him for her family. Her brother, Ambrose, was dancing, and they locked eyes. He intercepted the look to mean “be careful how you behave around my sister.” It was something he would have done for Flora and Madeline.

“Octavia. She’s the Althorp most likely to defuse an argument.”

“And you are?” Charles asked.

“The one least likely to start an argument, but most likely to end it,” she said with a smile. It made her eyes shine. “Don’t look right,” Miss Althorp whispered.

“Why?” He battled the need to do so as she told him not to.

“My mother is glaring at me, and she will include you in that,” she whispered.

“I’ve never spoken to your mother.” Charles looked down at her as they turned in a circle. “Why would she be glaring at me? Surely you did not tell her about that kiss?”

Her gasp was almost theatrical. “I would never tell my mother about that.”

“Well then, we can forget about it,” he said, and Charles knew it was the right thing to say, even if he would remember it always. He didn’t want her avoiding him because of that kiss.

“My mother is a wonderful woman and loves us all very much,” she said.

“But?”

“But is fixated on us all marrying, except Ambrose of course. He has far more important things to think about, like becoming an earl.”

“There was a lot of venom behind those words, Miss Althorp, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Her face screwed up in annoyance. “I don’t want to marry, and I think it unfair Ambrose does not receive the same treatment as his sisters.”

Because she loves another .

“You never want to marry?” Charles asked, knowing her reasons but not being able to speak to them.

She nodded.

“Now that would be a shame.”

“Not really. Most men are fools, and I have only ever found one I would live my future with. So I will be quite happy with my parents or being an aunt to my siblings’ children.”

Well, that put him in his place. Clearly, the attraction he’d thought they shared was all one-sided. Miss Althorp had not been affected, or not allowed herself to be, and she would remain devoted to the memory of her lost fiancé.

“One hopes the intellect of the men in London improves over time, or we are doomed for future generations.” The words came out with a bite to them, which had her eyes moving to his.

“I’m sure there are exceptions.”

“How gracious of you to say so.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Yes,” Charles said, which had her huffing out a breath like a disgruntled puppy.

Before she could speak again, he did. “Miss Althorp, I need to ask a favor of you.”

She nodded, looking a little nervous now.

“I have need of something translated from Russian to English. Would you be able to do that for me?”

He’d expected her to say yes instantly. Instead, she frowned as if he’d said something to annoy her.

“Well?”

“What is it that you want translated?” she asked.

He broke away from her again, and when they drew near once more, he told her the truth.

“That day we ran into each other in the street, I was carrying a book you said was not the right one to help me learn to speak Russian, as it was too complex.”

She nodded, her eyes now locked on his.

“I found a piece of paper inside the front cover. I had to pry it open to get it out, but?—”

“I hope you didn’t destroy that book,” she demanded. “It’s worth a great deal.”

“Focus, Miss Althorp,” Charles snapped, and he never snapped. The woman brought out far too many emotions in him. “I found a note inside an old Russian book.” He said the words slowly this time, hoping she understood what he was not saying.

Her eyes widened suddenly, and her mouth fell open.

“I have no wish for anyone to wonder what it is we speak of. Therefore, perhaps you could control your face?”

She did, snapping her teeth together and forcing her lips into a smile.

“And all the small children and mice have scurried for cover,” he muttered.

She softened her smile and looked up at him as if she had feelings for him. It was unsettling how good she was at it. Charles had to swallow before speaking again.

“Were you also the Althorp most likely to lie directly to a person’s face without them realizing it?”

She shook her head.

“Pardon.” Someone bumped into Charles. “Forgive me, Mr. Thomas.”

“Quite all right, Waddingham,” Charles said, refusing to rub his shoulder that had ached the minute he began dancing.

“Mr. Thomas,” she whispered seconds later, “do you believe it could be?—”

“I have no idea, Miss Althorp, as I cannot read Russian. You, however, can. ”

“Do you have it with you?”

“No.”

“I will translate it. Where and when? Or you could have it delivered to me.”

“I will not be letting that piece of paper out of my sight,” he said.

She reared back as if he’d slapped her. “How dare you accuse me of stealing it?” she hissed in fury.

Charles blinked. “Are you also the Althorp most likely to jump to the wrong conclusion?”

She muttered something that had him wanting to bark out a laugh.

“I will not be entrusting it in the hands of anyone but you and me.”

“That’s a sound notion,” she said.

“I understand I am a man, but occasionally I have them.”

“So when can I see it?”

“When is your next knitting group?”

“As to that—bother, the music has finished,” she said. “My mother is moving to intercept us. You must find a way to get it to me.”

“I will carry it with me for the next time we meet,” Charles said.

“I don’t want to wait until then,” she whispered out the side of her mouth.

“Well, I shall call a hackney immediately and go to my house and collect it, then rush back here?—”

“There is no need for sarcasm,” she whispered as her mother bore down on them.

“There’s always a need for sarcasm. My sisters taught me that.”

“I shall call at your house tomorrow.”

“You can’t—” Before he could finish that statement, Lady Chippington had arrived .

“Violet!”

“Mother, this is?—”

“Mr. Thomas,” Lady Chippington said with a tight smile.

“My lady.” Charles bowed deeply. “May I say that your daughter is a credit to you. So sweet natured, and we conversed at length on many things. She must take after you.”

Lady Chippington’s smile remained tight. “She is a sweet girl.”

“Allow me to say how lovely you look this evening, my lady,” Charles added. At her mother’s side, Violet frowned, not buying his obvious flattery.

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas, very kind of you to say so. Now, if you will excuse us, my daughter is promised to another for this dance.”

“Good evening, Lady Chippington,” Leo said, arriving.

“Lord Seddon.” Lady Chippington dropped into a curtsy. “Mr. Nightingale,” she added, her smile warmer.

Clearly, this woman was not bothered by the fact that the Nightingales had been disgraced in the eyes of society. A viscount was worthy of her appreciation.

“Mothers like that make me excessively happy to be a man,” Leo said after the women walked away.

“Amen,” Alex muttered, watching Violet until she disappeared.

“It’s stuffy in here.” Flora arrived with Ram.

“Why are you frowning, Leo?” Ram asked.

“I have this urge to find a piece of paper with the numbers one to five on it. It’s very odd,” Leo said, looking around him as if it was lying about on the floor

Charles knew someone who’d lost a piece of paper just like that. His eyes went to Violet, but she’d disappeared. The list she’d carried from the man she’d loved and lost.