ROMANCE: PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Coveted by the Werewolves (Paranormal MMF Bisexual Menage Romance) (New Adult Shifter Romance Short Stories) (303 page)

“I’m not certain what you mean.” She suggested, less stiffly.

“To be candid, it was my demeanor. I was in a terrible mood and my sister has informed me that my temperament was dark enough to place a shadow, potentially upon your evening. The cause of my ill-temper was not your doing and you should never have received such… I don’t know to say it, such unpleasant looks as you may have seen. I assure you, they were never meant for you. And now I have discharged my apology, I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

This long, stammering speech seemed honest and spoken with such sincerity, she couldn’t help but soften. “Whatever offense may have been caused is entirely forgotten. Pray, speak no more of it kind sir.”

To maintain the social graces, Frances facilitated introductions; she had met the Duke of Dorset once before, at a party, though it had been a brief meeting.

It was already late in the afternoon, so Frances and Charlotte were bound for the tea room. Before leaving, Charlotte quickly asked the man the question that had been troubling her most. “You say you were in a poor mood and that I hadn’t caused you grief. What troubled you so, that you should affix your gaze in my direction at all?”

He blushed again. “It was improper to trouble you at all, but honor demanded I make amends. I assure you once more, it was nothing to do with you, Mistress Charlotte.”

“Indeed, but what was it?”

He hesitated. “It is only fair, I suppose. The man you were dancing with… how well do you know him, if I may ask?”

She blanched. “Only slightly, though I should say he has made clear his intentions to call upon me tomorrow. We are to go for a ride and a picnic lunch.”

“I’m sure it will be quite a splendid time. Do enjoy.” George remarked hurriedly, turning to go. A thought crossed his mind, and he turned quickly. “I should say that if you are to spend further time with the Captain, it is your business entirely. But I would urge caution. Good day.”

With that cryptic warning spoken, the Duke stepped into the crowd of tourists exiting the bath and was gone.

*****

“My dear, Captain,” Charlotte admonished her suitor, “You really must have a proper physician look over your leg. If it troubles you so, that’s the best thing for it.”

When Captain Bannister had come to call, he had surprised her by arriving and using a cane. For a young man, it was an unusual course of action, and she had tried for most of their outing not to comment on his discomfort. But when he tried to sit, he winced and gritted his teeth manfully, clearly trying and failing to mask the pain.

“It will be fine in no time, I’m certain.” The soldier told her. “As I say, my friend has had medical experience during our troubles with Boney. He says it should be right as rain in a week or so, no more.”

“But what is it exactly? How can he be so certain?”

“Ah, I won’t trouble your mind with the condition’s name. Chauncey told me what it was called and I can say I have already forgotten it’s name! I fear my Latin was never so good.”

She sighed. The spread was before them; cheese, some good bread, apples, beef, and a bottle of wine. They had hardly dented the provisions as she fretted over his condition. “I wish I had heard him speak it’s name. I have a very good recollection of Latin.”

“And Greek and French as well, I have no doubt.” He looked over a few feet away in the grass, where another couple were enjoying their own picnic. They had accompanied Charlotte and the Captain per pre-arrangement, a comrade-in-arms of Captain Bannister’s and his own lady friend. Though the cozy park was packed with such couples, it was only proper that they be chaperoned on their first outing. 

Charlotte snickered. “I do, in fact, read both languages, though I will concede that my Greek is a touch poor. However, my family has been in the care of Doctor William Scarborough. I’ll give you his address. You must see him, and I will be cross if you don’t.”

The man shrugged and leaned back in the grass. “Can we speak of more pleasant matters than my ailment? It’s a slight thing, in truth.”

“I can and I would. It’s too pleasant of a day for darkness.”

“In the light your beauty, there could never be any such clouds.”

She looked down shyly, then up again, a slight smile playing on her lips. “You are teasing, of course.”

“Never. I say only what I mean when it comes to your loveliness.”

There were further compliments and long talks followed by a walk before being returned home.

*****

For once, she was starting to be treated less like an undesirable in her home and more on par with her other sisters by her mother. Having gained the notice of a man worthy in her mother’s eyes put her in better graces than her youngest sister, who had somehow managed to contract a malady in the past week.

“That girl. Has she any idea the cost of a physician? An expense we can ill-afford.” The girl’s mother complained over dinner.

Though she was quite sure Catherine wouldn’t give her the same consideration, Charlotte felt obligated to say something in her defense. “I’m sure it’s not her intention, mother. She did look quite ill.”

“That’s what happens when one is out at unsuitable hours with tradesmen! Their kind are riddled with pox and who knows what ailments.” She grumbled.

It wouldn’t have gone very far to have countered her on that account; though they may have been descended from gentry, the truth of the matter was that there were many tradesmen living far more comfortably, and within their means at that. As it was, they were dining on a very thin broth that was supposed to pass for soup as starters. Charlotte suspected that the main course would be thinly cut and low quality meat, a compromise required for expenses incurred during extravagant shopping sprees. Though she had gone shopping with Frances herself, she had kept her budget extremely tight and was mostly along for the company.

As they sipped their broth, the doctor came down from their rooms. “A touch of stomach ailment.” He informed the women. “I’ve provided her with medication that will, I have no doubt, help her to mend quickly.”

“You are too kind, Doctor Scarborough.” Mother said in a too-friendly manner.

The bachelor nodded in reply and looked to Charlotte. “Mistress Charlotte, will you see me to the door?”

As the young woman took him to the entrance of their cottage, his voice turned serious. “Did you refer a man by the name of Captain Howard Bannister to me, by chance?”

“Oh yes!” She said, brightening at the mention of his name. “There was a problem with his leg.”

He shook his head. “He did come to see me and refused every examination. I was under the impression that he was bound by you for to make a visitation and it was the only reason he came to call. I saw him in my waiting room, spoke with him briefly, and he showed himself out in haste. Too much haste, I should say.”

“Too much haste?” She felt confused. “I don’t understand.”

“His pace kept changing, as did the way he favored his leg. I’ll be frank because I care for you girls; I’ve known you since you were just a babe. I’d stake my reputation that he was faking his discomfort. To what end, I can not say, but I felt you should know.”

*****

Though she was accustomed to some degree of social exchange through the mail, it was a great surprise to Charlotte when she received a letter from none other than His Grace, the Duke of Dorset, George Mandeville. She had been sure she’d seen the last of him at the baths. Men of such high station would usually keep to their own kind.

When her mother handed the letter over, there was a look of faint amusement about her in doing so. “Someone has been setting their sights upon a lofty goal.” She murmured, then went away without a further word. She left before she could hear Charlotte scoff at the notion.

Though it was unusual, it would be rude not to open it. She went to the family’s modest sitting room, a room well-stocked with books collected by her father and settled in. The paper was clearly expensive and, she was pleased to see, his penmanship immaculate. She unfolded the letter fully and began to read.

Dear Mistress Charlotte Woodhall of Waverly Lodge,

Please be patient with my letter and my manner of speaking within this work. I am not in the custom of writing to women

I have been in an agony of indecision and confused emotions since our last parting. I fear I have done you greater injury by not fully disclosing the entirety of the circumstances of my having come to know the man you know as Captain Howard Bannister. It can be difficult to know when to speak fully on such matters with a person who may hold great affection for another. However, I have determined I must speak with you in full.

I beg the privilege of a conversation with you regarding this matter.

With warmest regards,

George Mandeville

His titles were included, but she had the strange sense that these were a formality he felt obligated to include. Whatever his title, the man seemed more comfortable among commoners at the Roman Bath than among his own kind at the dance she’d been at.

The next morning before breakfast, after writing a letter to Frances and to a cousin in the North, she took up her quill and responded that she’d be delighted to meet with him (though she wasn’t) and that they could meet at Waverly Lodge that weekend. They might go for a walk in the country in the company of one of younger sister, if she were feeling entirely well again. His response was prompt; he would be there.

His carriage pulled up at the appointed, late afternoon hour and he arrived dressed appropriately for a walk in the country. After introductions were made to her family, Charlotte and her reluctant sister Margaret - Catherine was feeling better, but pretended otherwise - trailed behind them a decent distance, disinterested in what they had to say to one another. Charlotte expected that her sisters were intensely jealous, but felt she had no cause to be given the nature of his coming to call.

“It is a lovely day and you are charming company,” the Duke said after they’d exchanged pleasantries, “But I would tell you why I have come to personally discharge this information.”

“I am all curiosity.” Charlotte said, a rising nervousness within her.

“First, I must ask and I will inquire no further; you have no definite engagement with this fellow?”

“None at this time, I assure you.” She answered.

“And has he come to call upon you at these lodgings?”

“No. At all times, I have seen him in Bath itself. Why do you ask?”

Mandeville sighed. “Before his time in India and prior to his meeting his late wife in the subcontinent, I knew of this man through my sister, Evelyn. He seemed a decent sort at the time, respectful of my sister and attentive in all things. This was until the day I received a letter. I have it with me in my breast pocket, for I would not have you make any decision without definite proof of his character and intentions.”

“He wrote me indicating that he would make accusations of a nature that were both scandalous and embarrassing to my sister unless I settled on some definite sum of money for his silence. The accusations, I came to find out, were utterly false. Though he had arranged by some pretext to put her in a position that was compromising, no affront to her honor was managed. When confronted with the evidence, the rogue said he would make the claim regardless unless a portion of the previously demanded funds were released. I was- as you may well imagine- infuriated and demanded the right to a duel. But before I could send my correspondence, he had already taken leave of the country. By the time I had heard he had married, I thought the matter settled.

“That is,” he hastened, with a slight stridence to his voice, “Until I found he had returned to England. When I saw at once what game he was playing yet again at the Sedgewick’s dance, I was outraged. I renewed my challenge and awaited for him to respond. He has since informed me that he has taken ill, and that it stems from a war injury. I have inquired; the man was fit and taken no such injury.”

It was Charlotte’s turn to be disheartened. “I fear I have reliable word that his illness and injury are mere fakeries. He is a… a coward. It is hard to believe I’ve been taken in by such a disreputable man.”