Page 6 of Unforeseen Affairs (The Sedleys #6)

Charlotte could hardly wait until she was old enough to be peculiar in such an outwardly outlandish way. It seemed that people were far more willing to allow widows and spinsters such leeway. She supposed she might be so in a different way from Bess, though; she preferred cats to dogs, for a start.

But for now, as a young lady of means she was expected to maintain a certain appearance.

Perhaps even more so than the average wealthy young woman, to compensate for the shocking circumstances of her birth.

And Charlotte usually obliged, up to a point.

But not for the nebulous collection of people that comprised “polite” society, with their boorish opinions and middling intelligence.

No, she did it for her stepmother.

“Shall we approach this in a more, er, regimented manner?” Mrs. Susanna Sedley suggested. “If I fetch some paper, we could make a list of the paintings you wish to recreate, and then work from there toward the requirements for each tableau?”

They were in the Oswine House conservatory.

Next to them, the trunk of Walter the dog’s effects was thrown open, its contents strewn about or laid upon a collection of wicker furniture for better viewing.

Thankfully it was still morning, which meant the room was merely stuffy and humid, and not yet unbearable.

A chorus of cheerful chirping laced through the air, emanating from a cage of chaffinches.

“Oh, dear me, and I nearly forgot the potted palms—Simms ought to have moved them, for the photographer insisted upon this direction for the best light.” Bess shook her head.

Charlotte, seated off to the side on a stone bench, watched impassively.

Walter lay on the cool tile at her feet, a nearly flat pancake of an animal, as if he’d been squashed by a carriage.

Despite his ridiculous posture, Charlotte thought that she would no doubt do the same if she were covered in a scraggly coat like him.

He made the most awful, ragged sound as he breathed, as if he’d spent the past hour chasing a rabbit through the gardens rather than feasting upon scraps from Cousin Bess’s breakfast tray.

“I could fetch some paper,” Charlotte offered to her stepmother. “And maybe water for Walter as well.”

“Very kind of you,” she replied with a gentle smile.

“Do not move, Charlotte!” cut in Bess in a strident tone. “I shall see to it. I’ve got to fetch Simms at any rate—he must move these palms this instant !”

The elder lady bustled out of the conservatory, the tassels of her shawls trailing in her wake.

Cousin Bess was getting on in her years, though she still crackled with the same nervous energy as when Charlotte had first arrived at the Sedleys’ garish and tasteless London manse several years ago.

Charlotte had been naught but a terrified child then, her entire world dashed to pieces after her mother had finally given up the ghost and succumbed to consumption.

There’d barely been time to grieve, for she’d had her livelihood to think of.

It had always been just her and her mother, alone, a tiny family attached to the greater organism made up of the other actors and crew of the company.

She’d supposed she would be absorbed into the bigger whole and earn her keep mending costumes or polishing brass in the theater, until perhaps the day might come when she too would tread the boards like her mother and make a living as an actress.

And then, after following in her footsteps, she might grieve for her mother in the proper way.

But instead, the theater manager had brought in a tall, dignified-looking gentleman with graying hair and mustache, who introduced himself as Ajax Sedley.

Her father.

And her world had been turned upside down again.

“Has she been at this all week?” her stepmother asked, looking in disbelief over the canine wardrobe scattered before her.

“More or less,” Charlotte replied, fiddling with the large watch fob she always wore on a long, thick chain about her neck. “I’ve not done much myself.”

Her contribution had consisted of an occasional nod here and there. Which felt like plenty to her.

Susanna turned to study her with the sharp eye of a woman who knew her better than anyone else.

Charlotte did not mind. She relished her stepmother’s attentions, especially as now they were divided among her and her two younger half-siblings—Thalia, all of six years old, and Lucius, four.

Right now they were no doubt tearing up some patch of dirt out in the garden along with her cousin Harmonia’s seven-year-old daughter, Georgiana.

What had once been a quiet house, haunted by the former glories of the nouveau riche Sedleys and the ghosts of their dreams of clawing their way into the aristocracy, was now as cluttered and bustling as a nursery.

It was even more chaotic on the occasions when her cousin Marcus brought his little ones over. Edmund had been getting into mischief from the day he’d begun walking, while his twin brother, Lewis, would squall relentlessly over the slightest inconvenience.

As if she could read Charlotte’s mind, Susanna glanced over her shoulder at one of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out upon the walled garden.

“I wonder how the children are getting on.”

“Happily digging up the garden, I’d assume.”

Susanna walked over to a wicker chair, clearing it of a tiny Black Watch cape and spaniel-sized hunter’s cap before sitting down with an uncharacteristic sigh.

“I wish they would not,” she said lightly. “It rained only yesterday. No doubt it’s all mud.”

“They’re searching for a hoard,” Charlotte explained, fiddling with the watch fob. “Coins and axe heads and the like.”

The watch fob was made of a heavy carnelian set in gold.

She’d first found it when, as a sad girl of fifteen who had just arrived at Oswine House, she was digging through old trunks in the attic, searching for anything that called to her.

Something that proved she belonged, that this truly was her family.

Instead she’d found the watch fob of one Titus Sedley, an uncle who had died of blood poisoning long before she’d known she was a relative of his.

“A hoard?” Susanna raised an eyebrow. “Now, where might they get that idea from, I wonder?”

Charlotte allowed a rare smile.

Suddenly a strange, yet familiar feeling settled upon her. She ignored the tiny flicker of excitement within herself, refusing to clutch at it and scrutinize it lest it disappear. Instead she kept it at the periphery of her senses, hoping the omen would soon reveal itself.

Something important was about to happen.

Every inch of her skin felt electrified; the fine, downy hair on her arms stood straight up. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest.

What could it be?

“I wonder,” Susanna began in a casual, yet tentative voice, “if you might reconsider the dinner party invitation we spoke about.”

The flicker of excitement snuffed out. Charlotte dropped the watch fob, which hit her square in the chest. It smarted, but she did not flinch.

“Why?”

“It’s only, well, darling…” Susanna stuttered, her pretty face flushing. “Your father asked if I would put it to you once more,” she admitted apologetically. “He’s very keen on introducing you to this young man, the poet he’s mentioned before.”

Irritation struck Charlotte in nearly the same spot the watch fob had.

“I’m sorry. There, I’ve said it, and now we can both tell him your decision remains the same.” Susanna frowned.

Charlotte stood and went to the open trunk. She feigned interest in the contents, pulling out a ruffled blue shirt. Carolingian in style, canine in fit.

“It doesn’t matter, for I’m already engaged that evening.”

“Oh?” Susanna perked up at this piece of information. “Is Bess accompanying you?”

“I should think not,” Charlotte replied, and tossed the shirt back.

She heard Walter sigh, a sound more akin to a piglet in a barn than a pampered lapdog.

Charlotte looked back to her stepmother.

Her lovely, perfect stepmother, hands folded delicately atop her lap, her dark brows knit with concern. Charlotte could not bear teasing her, any more than she could bear her father’s misguided attempts at matchmaking.

“It’s a spirit circle,” she admitted. “I’ll be assisting Mrs. Stone.”

“Ah,” Susanna replied delicately. “I did not realize Mrs. Stone was accepting invitations again.”

“She was only turning them down temporarily, out of necessity,” Charlotte explained. No one wished to attend a circle with a medium adhering to a strict vinegar bath regimen; the smell was too off-putting. “It was only for the month of February. February brings ill winds.”

“Does it?”

She knew how ridiculous the words sounded, but the stricken look on her stepmother’s face pulled at her heartstrings.

Susanna was the first person Charlotte had loved outside of her mother.

She’d first been engaged as Charlotte’s governess, until her father had somehow wooed her into becoming his bride.

Charlotte would sooner perish than disappoint her.

Perhaps that was what prompted it. Either that or some mysterious, otherworldly force.

“Sir Colin Gearing will be there,” Charlotte added in a rush.

“Oh?” Susanna lifted her head, her brown eyes wide. “The naval hero?”

“He’s not that impressive,” she added, hoping she hadn’t sounded too eager in her attempt to change the subject. “Like any other young man.”

Susanna studied her for a long moment. Charlotte stood stock-still, until finally her stepmother leaned back with another tired sigh.

“Well, if Mrs. Stone is accompanying you, then I agree, best not to trouble Bess with something so… macabre.”

Charlotte then recalled the medium’s exhortation from a few days ago.

“By the way, Mrs. Stone mentioned you should abstain from rich foods.” She shrugged, indicating that she didn’t necessarily have faith in her mentor’s prescriptions. “She recommends barley water.”

“Mrs. Stone spoke of me? Goodness.” Susanna smiled wryly. “And why would that be, do you think?”

“All will be revealed in time,” Charlotte mused.

Walter sat up suddenly, then set to biting at his hindquarters with gusto.

Yes, all would be revealed. She couldn’t help but think of the strange feeling that had come over her so suddenly before departing just as quick. Something was bound to happen. What, though?

Her eyes fell back to the watch fob around her neck.

What indeed.