The Rake and The Rose (A Rake's Mistake) (18 page)

"Oh, don't be such a ninny!" Anne waved her hands and walked over forcing her to sit up. "I know you feel dreadful darling." She hugged Charlotte gently and patted her head. "Mother said he was a beast for reacting in such a way over Whitmore and you, what with him gallivanting with Deirdre, the nerve!"

Charlotte's eyes welled with tears. "I hadn't even wanted Charles's attention," she cried. "Why did he have to be such a lout!" She smacked the cushion for emphasis on the word 'lout', as though it solidified her feelings. In reality, though, she knew "I love him…" she whispered.

"Well, he isn't deserving of the affection." Anne sniffed as her maid brought tea in to them and set it on the little table in front of the lounge.

Anne watched Charlotte pick at her scone and sip her tea gently.  She set her cup and saucer back down and sighed, "Hm, so he is ignoring you?"

"I sent him a letter stating that I wanted to speak to him." Charlotte fiddled with a curl and glanced at Anne. "But he has not responded. It has been several days. I doubt I shall ever see him again!" She cried her pain anew and hiccoughed. "I-I feels so awful for saying I hate-hated him Anne! Oh, what do I do?"

"There, there now." Anne patted her shoulder. "This isn't you! Come now! You threw Deirdre’s fan into the pond!"

Charlotte sniffled. "It was rather funny," she agreed.

"And you slapped Charles at tea, before Alexander did anything."  It was a mistake to say his name, as Charlotte began to cry again.

"You can take care of yourself! You don't need a man!" Anne declared. And with that said, she promptly mopped up Charlotte's tears. “At least not yet at least…” Anne realized that her practicality didn’t suit the moment and sighed. “Oh Charlotte, whatever will we do with you?” she laughed.

“Throw me to the wolves?”

“No, I have a better idea.” But she most certainly would keep it a secret to herself...

Alexander had been in a foul temper since the ball, barking at anyone who crossed his path, and passing Charlotte's previous rooms and not coming out of his own for hours. Sophie, Francesca and the others knew something was wrong when he had come home carried by Kade and Leroy, and thrown onto the bed and left. His friends explained what Alexander had told them about Deirdre at the tavern. They shook their heads sympathetically. Leroy thought love a sticky mess that made even the most respectable men cads. Kade simply felt bad in general.

The staff was even worse. Francesca and Sophie knew Charlotte had no idea of the ways of some women. And Francesca sipped her nightcap and worried about her new little friend and her master. Sophie could hardly sleep, but the only one who was happy was Giselle.

This did not make anyone like her any better. James who was used to checking the icehouse for her each day had to remind himself after the first day that she was not there. Nor would she sit with him and play checkers since she was awful at chess, despite his frantic attempts to let her win.

Francesca who was so used to going in and seeing Charlotte's face while tidying up the bedroom floor would get sullen and realize that she was probably never coming back. Sophie just sat, very quietly, and hardly laughed at all. None of them had ever realized that they would, or could, miss someone so much after only a short while.

Finally, having had enough of Alexander's tantrum, they all went to talk with him. Alexander, unaware of what they wanted, went into the dining room only to be met by three pairs of eyes, two glaring, and one beseechingly staring.

C
hapter
14

"What?" Alexander asked leaning against a chair.
 

"Sir," James began "You've-"  

But Sophie was the one to snap. "You've been acting horribly!"

Francesca nodded. "Indeed Alexander, why don't you just contact Charlotte?" was the suggestion, with a round of approving murmurs.

"She does not wish to see me."

"How do you know this?" James asked curious "No letters? Why don't you send-"

"I have, James! I have. She will not respond!" Alexander gasped as if the answer hurt him to say the truth of the situation.

"You love her," they all said.

"No, I just don't want her getting into marriage with someone who-who..."

"Who does not love her? Who is not you?" Francesca prodded. "Alexander you are denser than a block of wood. And it’s about time we hit you over your head too! You love her, or you wouldn't have acted in such a way!" Her hands on her hips, she glanced at the boy, now a man that she had watched nearly her whole life. "Go to her. Stop moping and being such a dandy and show her you care!”

James on the other hand looked suspiciously at Giselle who gleefully walked in and handed Alexander the post, who quickly upon seeing nothing from Charlotte tossed them on the table disinterested.

“Well...letters get lost. So maybe it's a trip to be made in person." James said slowly watching Giselle walk out in a happy bustle.

"What?"

"Just saying, you never know." he shrugged but gave the others a pointed look. 

Francesca nodded and sighed, "Why not go over, and pay her a visit?"

"She wouldn't want me there." he bemoaned and sat back in the chair closing his eyes.

Sophie would have none of it. "Sir, get up and start doing something to win that girl back! We miss her!"

All the others nodded, and even some passing staff agreed. She had been a light in the Estate that had been as courteous as any Lady of the house. Francesca found herself idly waiting in the morning with a second cuppa to have with Charlotte when she would rise, Sophie getting an extra place set at dinner. The presence was noticed with the Lady guests and families, as well.

Though the town talked of what had conspired between he and Mr. Whitmore, no one dared speak of it. After all, Lord Cromwell might have made a mistake, but he was rich. That seemed to diminish the need for wondering where his propriety had gone, the wealthy could do anything, after all.

The fathers of the Ladies simply wrote it off as "Young blood" or told him "Don't let a chit get the better of you lad, we've all been there," clapping him on the back in a jovial manners.

He was anything but jovial, happy, alive...that was it. He was not alive.

Alexander was half a person with Charlotte gone and he felt as if the entirety of his being had suddenly begun to rotate around a fixed point. It was no longer the idea of what he needed, or what the estate needed, or what his damned father, or his mother's adopted sister wanted. It was simply to have the woman he wanted by his side again.

He sat back and exhaled sharply, looking at his staff. "You're all right, but how?"

They all shrugged. Alexander quickly snatched up a pen and paper and began to write.

The Essex Estate . . .

Lady Anne was staring at a piece of paper as she walked in "Who is that from?"

"Oh, nobody." Anne stuffed the letter into her skirts and gave her a wobbling smile. "I have an errand I have to run later is all."

"Might I come with you?"

"Oh no! Mother is going to get you all ready for the ball we will be having." 

"Ball?" Charlotte's eyes had gone round.

"Yes! You my dear are going to be the most beautiful woman any man has ever seen! No mask this time." 

Charlotte frowned "But I do not want to be such a thing…"

"What about Charles?"

"I fear he has a wicked temper." Charlotte confessed, wincing as the memories came back anew. 

Anne simply scoffed "All men have their vices, dear." Not that she would know, she hardly let any of them get close enough.

Charlotte very nearly told her that twice he seemed to have nearly hit her but kept her tongue bit. "So you are having a Ball?"

Anne looked distracted. "Yes, but I need to run an errand first."

With that she bustled out leaving Charlotte with the maid fiddling with her skirts. "So…what does Lady Anne do for fun?" she asked the maid in a confused manner. The maid giggled and looked up at her.

“She plays that bloody harp all day Ma’am.” And they both laughed.

Alexander sat back huffing and brooding still, writing another letter.

Dearest Charlotte,

I beg you to show mercy and let me explain…

"No, no." he crumpled it and tossed it on the floor along with dozens of other crumpled pieces of paper.

Dear Charlotte,

I would very much like to discuss what happened; I think you did not understand fully-

"No, no, no! Dammit!" he pounded his fist on his desk and finally leaned his head against the cool wood to stave off the heat in his head.

"God what am I going to do?" he moaned

"Well my Lord Cromwell, you could listen to me." A light voice said from the door.

"What?" Anne was standing at the door when he looked up.

"I wanted to invite you to the ball I am hosting." Anne said calmly and he balked at her.

"What…what are you doing here!" he yelled.

"My, my, my you are in a temper my Lord."

"Get out."

"Steady on!" Anne waved her hands in defense "I wanted you to come. That is all. She misses you."

"She does?" the hope flared within his chest.

"Yes." Anne nodded with a grim expression "But know, Lord Cromwell." she warned "Charlotte has become the talk of people and a high commodity since Deirdre’s gathering."

"She has always been a high commodity, I've just been too stupid to see it."

"Indeed, intolerably stupid isn't even the words I would use for you my Lord."

"I get it. No need to rub my face into it.”

Anne stamped her foot and all but hissed at him "No you do not! I know who she is!”

"What?"

"I know she is one of Devisher's daughters." 

"Wait, one?"

"That is all I can say. Doctor Lambert was specific in not revealing anything else because she obviously was too traumatized. When one has been through a trauma, such as losing one’s family, or being in a bad moment. Sometimes the mind forgets. Or at least that is what is said. Doctor Lambert has seen it in men who had witnessed war or women suffering from hysteria in Bethlem Royal Hospital."

Alexander nodded. He did not want anything happening to Charlotte, not at all. "I'll do anything to make sure she is safe." He said quickly and Anne nodded.

"Good. You might just stand a chance." 

"Will Deirdre-"

"Yes, but just ignore her. She is off hunting some Viscount." He chuckled with dark humor

"Such are predators. And such is the poor dear’s family…" Anne nodded with a grin. "I shall take my leave, Lord Cromwell." She bowed and smiled, after leaving.

When Anne returned Charlotte noticed that her friend looked tired. She had a maid put a cool cloth on her head and looked as if she were having a case of the headache.

“Anne?" Charlotte brought another cloth. "I can be of help to you,” she offered.

"No, dear it's alright. You poor thing have had quite the week. Are you ready for
the ball?"

"No. But Charles asked to meet me there. I am not sure I want to..." 

"Then don't!' Anne said sharply, quickly.

"Anne, did I say something wrong?" Charlotte's gaze was soft and Anne felt remorseful.

"No, forgive me dear..." Anne waved her hand. "I forget myself in the midst of a headache." Charlotte nodded as Anne got up. "Well, we need to get ready for tomorrow night!"

"Will Alexander be there?" she looked fearful...hopeful...expectant.

"I don't think so." Anne shook her head. In reality, she had never given him a real invitation due to her parents, but she knew they loved each other.

"I guess. I will have to deal with Whitmore sadly, though." She fiddled with her skirts and sighed deeply "Anne, I feel awful." She laid back on the lounge she had been occupying and exhaled forcefully. "Do tell me what we will be wearing then, Anne?"

"Oh I have the best gown for you, you're going to look like an angel!"

"So not a fox?" Charlotte teased, sitting up. 

"No, you were already a fox." Anne waved her hand as if Charlotte were being silly at the thought. "Mother will be bringing it in shortly." Anne was walking around the room, as if looking for something. "Hmm," she murmured running her hand over her vanity. "Let's see..." she picked up a lovely comb that had diamonds in it and grinned at Charlotte as she turned to face her. "Come here." She unceremoniously pulled her red locks up and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Lovely. Diamonds really suit you."

"I feel like I am putting on airs."

"That's the point!" Anne said with a low laugh. Her Grace Essex walked in and smiled at them.

"Are you still upset my little lamb?" with the love of a mother she enveloped Charlotte in a warm embrace. "Poor thing, you mustn't blame him though dear." 

"Why ever not?" Charlotte demanded hotly, her words muffled into her bosom.

Her Grace grinned down at her and acted as if she had a secret, "Because I heard from a little bird that was at the ball that he was quite displeased and had all but thrown her off after you had left." 

"You lie!" she gasped, afraid of believing it.

"No dear, if there is one thing I am good at, it is weaseling out information. I saw how hurt you were, perhaps you can give him a chance."

"But what was he doing with her all alone?" Her Grace shrugged. 

"That I do not know my dear, things happen. But give him a chance."

"He needs to know I will not simply crawl back. Besides I accepted Mr. Whitmore's invitation..." Both women gave each other a pained look. "I know Alexander won't like it...but quite frankly...I don't give a damn." Charlotte said firmly.

"Well, I have your dresses, girls." With a clap of her hands two ladies in waiting came in with one dress each. Anne's was a beautiful golden silk with emerald trim and ruffled trimming on the collar and sleeves, which were short. Charlotte's was white as snow, with satin ribbons and ruched bodice with its high waistline and oval off the shoulder sleeves that fell only to half her upper arms.