Perfectly Flawed (17 page)

She placed her gloved hand upon his sleeve and merely
stared at his bare hands. Charlotte wished she were brave
enough to touch them.

He glanced around at the meandering pebbled paths,
the various garden beds, and beyond to the expanse of countryside that spread out for miles around them. The
sight seemed to please him.

"As beautiful as the gardens are, I believe one could
grow uneasy after repeating the same route. Passing
that small birch grove might become tiresome after the
third or fourth time." He looked over at her with a tilt of
his head. "Are you not tired of walking this path with
every gentleman?"

"That was days ago." So he knew of the garden tours
with her suitors. "And I must walk at least once a day for
my health. Though I admit walking that particular day
was not for my health but to acquaint myself with the
gentlemen callers. I only thought it fair for each of them
to have the chance to speak to me alone." The topic was
an uncomfortable one. Charlotte had no wish to speak to
Sir Philip about other gentlemen, and she quickly changed
the subject. "I understand you have employed Tom
Sturgis."

"Ah, Thomas." Sir Philip smiled. Unless she was mistaken, Charlotte thought she felt an added spring in the
baronet's step. "Yes, he's a good lad."

"Yes, but as a valet? I believe he's only cared after
horses"

"But he cares for them well, wouldn't you say?"

"I have never heard any complaints-from the equines
or their owners. But the point remains, sir," Charlotte
was quick to point out, "you are not a horse."

Sir Philip raised her hand to his lips and murmured
while looking deep into her eyes, "I am so very glad
you have noticed. But horse or no, I could not have com peted in your young gentlemen's footrace on the day of
my arrival."

By the tone of his voice, he sounded as if he had not
approved.

Sir Philip pulled her hand tighter into the crook of his
arm. "The damage it may have caused to my boots
might have been irreparable."

How easily he could equate the value of her affection
with that of his high-topped boots. Then she recalled how
her sister went on about Sir Philip and women. Muriel's
metaphors of his starched linen strips-carefully crafted
cravats indeed! Neither Sir Philip's nor Muriel's analogies
pleased Charlotte.

"I am merely a gentleman who has had the misfortune,
or in my circumstance, the good fortune, to be stranded
in this delightful situation where I can watch the daily
sport "

"Sport?" Charlotte stopped, and truth be told, she
wasn't pleased with him at the moment. "This is not a
game."

"Really? I thought it resembled one at every turn."
Sir Philip's hold upon her hand tightened. "The very
competitive nature of the participants, the contests, the
prizes."

Charlotte had to admit he was correct and that he had
consistently refused to allow himself to become involved.

Fine. But why did she feel she needed to use him to
measure the other men? In fact, Charlotte cared for the
baronet more than she would openly admit. And he ...
compared her with pieces from his wardrobe.

"Dare I make a request of you?" Sir Philip's tone was
pleasant.

"You may certainly ask." Charlotte did not think it
proper she grant him his every whim, especially when
he treated her so dreadfully.

"I fear my time here is coming to an end. I would request you honor us with a song or two this evening after
supper. I imagine your aunt and your father, as well as
Sir Samuel, would be delighted to hear you play."

"I should like to, if that is what you wish, sir." Even
though he had not been particularly kind to her, Charlotte could not bring herself to deny him.

"It is. Above all things." He smiled down at her and
stepped forward, continuing their stroll. "I must admit"a small sigh punctuated his words-"I shall be sorry to
leave tomorrow, for I have become quite fond of Faraday
Hall and its many pleasant amenities."

Wooden leg, indeed! What had Charlotte been thinking? Perturbed with her sister, Muriel strode across the
terrace to the north side of the house. Perhaps the plan
to thin the number of callers was not the wisest, and
Muriel's ability to persuade Charlotte should have been
employed with a bit more regard.

An old worn wagon sat near the side of house. "Ah,
good day to you, Lady Muriel." Farmer Gilbert set an
armful of empty wooden boxes on the back of the wagon
and drew his cap from his head.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gilbert."

"Just deliverin' some fresh goods for Sir Philipsome eggs, milk, cheese, and cream."

"I beg your pardon?" Did he say Sir Philip?

"We've got what you might call ourselves a gentlemen's agreement, we has."

"I see." Muriel thought this might be a topic she should
not trespass upon, being clearly defined as male territory. That had never stopped her before, however, and she continued. "Might I ask what exactly is the nature of
this agreement?"

"Rein' you was responsible for our meetin' in the first
place"-Farmer Gilbert craned his neck, squinted an
eye, and stared over his shoulder at her-"I'll tell you"

Sir Philip had not been amiable to the farmer during their initial encounter. Muriel couldn't wait to hear
how the baronet had conducted himself on his subsequent meeting.

"Comin' back from the village, he found me near the
same spot the day the two of you came upon me." Farmer
Gilbert paused to take a breath. "I was in the briars
good-don't know what I would've done if it weren't for
him. My plow horse come up lame, you see? Picked up a
stone."

If Sir Philip had taken advantage of this man, Muriel
would take his fully packed leather trunk and toss it
into the pond herself.

"Wanted to know what I did with my lower pasture.
Graze my dairy cows, I say to him. He asks me if I'd
pasture his horses alongside them. Willin' to pay me, he
is. I don't need the blunt-what I need is a horse to hitch
to my plow. `Done,' he says."

"He bought you a horse?" Muriel could not conceive of
a thoughtful Sir Philip, much less a magnanimous one.

"Nah, don't know where he got the horse, but it wasn't
his. `On loan,' he says, and wanted me to take good care
of him." Farmer Gilbert puffed out his chest, showing
pride in his integrity. "I'm an honest man, I am. Don't
'spect no charity, neither."

How had Sir Philip managed that? That was far more
than an act of kindness. Muriel glanced around, not
wishing to be caught gossiping about Sir Philip.

"I'm to use the horse as a favor to him. That's when
we strike a deal-a gentleman's agreement, as Sir Philip
says. He knows there's been more than 'spected callers
here at Faraday Hall. He wants to help and asks me to
contribute on his behalf."

That appeared to be a reasonable solution, and it
originated from Sir Philip himself.

"Sir Philip says he leaves it up to my good judgment
to decide how much is fair." The farmer waggled his
index finger to stress his point. "I ain't gonna take advantage of some city swell. 'N' I'm not about to let him
down-he knows that, he does."

"I'm sure he does." Muriel smiled, not quite sure what
to think of this newly revealed side of the baronet.

Somehow Charlotte had managed to see this attribute among his exaggerated manners and foppery. Perhaps her sister had been correct about his character.
That was too bad. Muriel rather enjoyed thinking Sir
Philip wretched.

After much aimless wandering, for she did not know how
long she ambled about without Sir Philip, Charlotte
approached the double glass doors outside the Music
Room. She pressed a dainty handkerchief to her moist
nose. Her tear-filled eyes seemed on the verge of overflowing.

Muriel threw the doors open and Susan immediately ran to her side, lending comfort. "Oh, Char-Char, what
is wrong?"

"I do wish Gusta was here. She would know what to
do," Charlotte's voice barely choked out.

"You must face facts-Gusta is not here," said Muriel, pulling her sister's hands from her face. "Sukey and
I will do what we can. Please tell us. What has happened?"

"Him," Charlotte managed to squeak out.

"I am sorry, to whom do you refer?" Susan could not
be faulted for not knowing who might cause Charlotte
to weep.

"Sir- Sir- Sir ..." She could not bear to say his
name and uttered simply, "the baronet "

"Tell us which baronet," Susan urged. "Half the eligibles here are baronets. You need to be a bit more specific, my dear."

"There is not a day, an hour, that passes that I do not
think of him, wish to see him," Charlotte uttered in hopeful longing, and then paused before managing to allow
his name to pass through her lips. "Sir Philip."

Muriel nearly groaned with dread. Charlotte knew her
sister did not care for him and, as expected, there would
be no sympathy found in that quarter.

"I did not have the pleasure of dancing with him last
night as I had hoped." Unable to control her sobs, she
wept harder. "He was not meant to be here at all. He
does not care for me, you see, Sukey."

"I do not believe there is a single gentleman who
would not think you-"

"He was never invited," Charlotte uttered in a soft
voice. "Why did he ever come to Faraday Hall? Why did
I ever make his acquaintance?" she asked no one in particular.

"Goodness, Charlotte, I have never seen you in such a
state," said Susan.

"It is far too clear that he does not have the least bit of
interest in me. He has just told me the repair of his curricle is complete and his accounts have been settled. He
can think of no reason to remain. As we speak he is
making preparations to leave us in the morning." Charlotte could not continue and held her breath to gather
her composure. "Do not dare say you are glad of it,
Moo"

"I've done no such thing." Muriel must have felt her
sister's annoyance.

"You are thinking it, no doubt " Charlotte's anger
kept the tears at bay. "I do not think I can bear not seeing him tomorrow, or the next day, or the next ..."
Charlotte didn't know what she was going to do. To tell
the truth, she was beginning to feel a bit desperate.

"Your flaw, if I may say, dearest, is that you fall in
love too easily," Susan stated.

It was too true. Charlotte gazed at her friend without
a smile. "And that is a flaw of such magnitude, I cannot
recover."

"But Char-Char, only consider, there are so many
other gentlemen who would gladly take his place,"
Susan suggested, trying to point out the good fortune
that lay before her.

"Yes, I know. And each of those gentlemen is splendid in his own way. I'm sure it would not matter whom I
chose." Charlotte sighed. "But the manner in which I
care for Sir Philip is quite different. There is a hidden
kindness to him. It is very subtle and one I am unable to
ignore."

"I completely agree. I am not likely to forget the likes
of him," Muriel added. "Let us go to the Blue Parlor and
see who remains."

"I think I ought to tell you both," said Susan, her voice
growing timid. "The other gentlemen, they've all gone.
Shortly after Lord Wentworth returned, they gathered
around him and there was a great commotion before they
all left."

Muriel, followed by Charlotte and Susan, headed for
the Blue Parlor. There was no one in the corridor, the
Grand Foyer stood vacant, and the Blue Parlor was completely deserted.

At one time, the two dozen calling cards from Sir
Samuel's hat lay upon the large inlaid rosewood table
in the Grand Foyer. Presently, only three remained.

Where were the others? And with the removal of
their cards, had those gentlemen withdrawn their interest in Charlotte as well?

"Only three remain." Susan read each: "Mr. Atwater,
Lord Stanton, and Sir Hugh Linville."

"That is more than enough. She can marry only one,"
Muriel reminded them both.

This ruse Charlotte played wasn't supposed to be a
game but a means to an end. Not to test them to find the smartest, strongest, bravest man among them, but to
find the one man who loved Charlotte for herself.

"But not the one she truly wishes," Susan said with
regret.

"I am not sorry in the least for inventing flaws for
myself if it has proved that these are the only gentlemen
who care for me." Charlotte collected the three cards
from the table. "The decision is mine. Allow me to give
it some thought" And without another sad sentiment or
shed tear, Charlotte climbed the stairs.

"Is she going to be alright?" Susan whispered, sounding concerned for her friend.

"I hope so," Muriel replied with caution. Secretly she
hoped her sister would keep her head and not do anything foolish.

Charlotte could clearly hear Sir Samuel and Aunt Penny
when she came down the corridor.

"The rate at which the gentlemen callers rush and
flee Faraday Hall is alarming," Sir Samuel commented.
"I must confess, I've never seen anything like it."