Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library (The Rogue’s Alliance #1)

Chapter Eleven

S unday morning saw Ashford walking to the park with Chloe again. Or rather, he was being dragged to the park by the dog and her leash.

“Slow down, Chloe. I’m scarcely awake, girl,” he said with a yawn.

Today he wore cream trousers and a green double-breasted wool coat. His valet had completed his employer’s toilette with a white linen shirt and elaborately tied neckcloth.

Instead of a stick for Chloe to chase, Ashford had tied some old stockings into a bundle. He hoped the makeshift toy would liven up the dog’s playtime.

The air held a chill and the sky was full of clouds that he expected would burn off later in the day. The only sounds in the park were the results of Chloe’s play.

Along with the scent of fresh-cut grass, Ashford imagined he could smell Tuberose perfume. No matter where he went, it seemed thoughts of Lady Charlotte followed him.

“Good morning, Lord Ashford.”

He recognized the soft, husky voice and turned to see Lady Charlotte and her friend Louisa standing nearby.

“Lady Charlotte, Lady Louisa, it is a pleasure to see you both again.” The rush of feeling he experienced at seeing Charlotte no longer took him by surprise. He couldn’t help himself. Not only was he attracted to the woman, but he also liked her.

Charlotte’s cheeks were stained pink by the cool air, adding to the vibrancy of her appearance. She wore thick tan gloves and matching pelisse over a green sprigged muslin gown.

“How lovely to see you, Lord Ashford.” Lady Charlotte looked briefly at her friend. “When Louisa dragged me outside so early today, I didn’t expect to see anyone else in the park.”

“Do you live nearby?” he asked, curious.

She shook her head. “I’m merely visiting Louisa. Her family lives on the other side of the square.”

“I didn’t realize we were neighbors,” he said to Lady Louisa with a brief smile.

“It is rare for me to come to our private park,” the young woman replied smoothly. “I merely wanted some privacy. Living with four brothers can be overwhelming at times.”

“Who is this?” Charlotte asked as she reached down and patted Chloe, who had bounded forward with her new toy in her mouth. “What a lovely dog.”

“And a demanding one,” he replied with a chuckle. “Her name is Chloe. I found her all alone as a puppy in Portugal.”

As Chloe dropped her toy on the ground, Charlotte crouched down and rubbed one of the dog’s ears with her gloved hand. “Poor dear. Now you have a good home, don’t you? I’m sure you are very spoiled.”

The lady looked up at him and smiled. It was as if the sun had come out just for him. Speechless, he couldn’t help but smile back. Good heavens, he felt as green as a schoolboy.

* * * * *

C harlotte was happy to interact with the little Maltese. She’d never owned a pet, as her mother sneezed when anything with fur came into the house. She crouched low to pet the dog and converse with her. When Charlotte glanced up and smiled, Lord Ashford looked quite caught for words.

“Are you all right, my lord?” she asked, concern in her voice as she rose to her feet.

Lord Ashford visibly shook himself. “Just wool-gathering.”

Louisa wandered off to walk the perimeter of the oval park, still close by but affording Charlotte and the marquess some solitude in which to speak.

The gentleman picked up the bundle of stockings at his feet and threw it. Chloe raced away to retrieve the toy as Charlotte breathed in the delicious scent of the marquess’s cologne. The man was freshly shaven, and she wondered what it would feel like to run her hand along his strong jaw. The thought of touching the marquess sent a tremor of awareness down her spine.

Their plan to meet Lord Ashford by chance had worked. She must get her emotions under control and gather the nerve to speak to the marquess about William’s pranks at Eton. The subject could hardly injure her as the man already had a low enough opinion of her.

“How fares the redoubtable Thorne’s Lending Library?” the marquess asked.

“The shop is still trading,” she replied and added hesitatingly, “When I saw you at Morgan’s Library, I was there to ask Mr. Colburn which women writers were selling at present. Because of your advice, I asked Mrs. Thorne to display books written by female novelists.”

Lord Ashford merely replied, “I do hope it might help your library to remain open.” He said nothing about his reasons for being at the shop himself.

She instantly regretted speaking about Morgan’s Library. The marquess’s expression was not as open as before, and his attention was now squarely on his dog. Still nervous about broaching the subject of William’s pranks at school, the silence between them lengthened as she searched for another topic of conversation.

“Something odd occurred last evening, Lord Ashford. It may be nothing, but a surly-looking man was loitering outside Thorne’s. I think he wanted to intimidate anyone going into the shop.”

“Did he speak to you?” he asked, his attention returning to her, his voice sharp.

She shook her head. “He didn’t look at me or speak to me. I didn’t mention it to Mr. Thorne; I didn’t want to upset his wife.”

“I have an appointment near Berkeley Square this afternoon and would be happy to visit the library today to see if the man is still lurking outside the shop.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he won’t be.”

“It is fortuitous that we have a moment to speak privately.” The marquess’s smile had helped alleviate some of her nervousness about asking him about William’s pranks at school. “My brother told me you helped him out of a scrape at Eton.”

“Did he tell you anything else?” The marquess took the bundle of rags from his waiting dog and threw it again.

“It has been brought to my notice that there are nasty rumors about my brother’s time at Eton.”

Lord Ashford replied, “I haven’t heard those rumors.”

“William was suspected of playing pranks on older students. My brother said he was indeed coerced by bullies into doing some things he regrets.” She forged on, “William has a bit of a weak character and is easily led astray. I’m concerned something else happened at Eton that he didn’t tell me about.”

Lord Ashford sighed. “Lady Charlotte, it pains me to tell you this, but when I encountered your brother playing what he calls a prank on another student at Eton, it appeared as if he was stealing from the person instead.”

She put a hand over her mouth. The truth was worse than she’d imagined.

“I caught him in my friend’s room with a stolen pocket watch in one hand,” the marquess said gently before returning his attention to Chloe.

Charlotte shook her head several times. Dropping her hand, she replied, “Oh no! That can’t be. William is not a thief.”

The Maltese returned with her toy. This time Lord Ashford didn’t throw the bundle of stockings. He pocketed it, bent down, and attached a leash to the dog’s collar.

“I’m merely telling you what I saw, Lady Charlotte. I am sorry if I have distressed you. Perhaps your brother can explain why he was in Lord Cecil’s room holding the gentleman’s pocket watch.” He gave a shallow bow and nodded to Louisa. “I must return home. Good day.”

When the marquess was gone, Louisa walked back to Charlotte’s side and took one of her hands in her own.

“What did Lord Ashford say to you?” Louisa asked, her forehead furrowed. “You look unwell.”

“He said my brother is a thief.” She felt tears threaten. “Lord Ashford thinks my brother is a thief.”

Charlotte had been so shocked by the thought of William stealing from his classmates she hadn’t thought to confront Lord Ashford about his sister’s conduct. It distressed her to realize she cared what the marquess thought of her family. She felt oddly deflated by the censure in Lord Ashford’s voice. He had judged her and William and found them wanting.

* * * * *

W hen Lady Charlotte looked up at him in the park, Ashford felt like the finest man in England simply because he’d taken in a homeless dog. It irritated him to think Nathaniel was right. He was indeed fascinated by the lady. By her voice, her scent. They drew him in like a siren’s call. Her unconventional behavior should deter him, not attract him.

Lady Charlotte. The expression on her face when he’d told her about her brother being a thief had reflected shock. He didn’t think she was acting. She didn’t have the experience to dissemble so effortlessly.

The more he thought about the meeting in the park, the more he wondered if the ladies had planned on seeing him there. He rather thought they had. Lady Louisa was not a skillful liar. Neither woman was.

Ashford believed Lady Charlotte was a reckless young woman, but she was also steadfast and loyal. He doubted her brother had such redeeming qualities.

Despite telling his friends he was done helping Lady Charlotte and her friends, he would venture by the lending library and see if Charlotte’s ‘surly’ man was outside the shop. He told himself it was because he was bored. And if James Landry was involved, he should not be allowed to intimidate shopkeepers.

When he arrived in Berkeley Square, Ashford positioned himself outside the entrance to Thorne’s Lending Library.

A burly, hawkish featured man was stationed on the other side of the front door of the library. The man looked straight ahead, apparently trying to give the impression he hadn’t seen Ashford.

“Good afternoon,” he said cheerily to the ruffian.

The man looked at him and gave a brief nod.

Ashford turned towards the thug, taking up an indolent pose, and proceeded to watch him. A faint sour odor drifted to him. The beefy man needed a bath. It took several minutes before the man turned and looked at him.

“Do you have a problem?” the hulking man asked with a scowl.

Although, admittedly, Cecil was the most intimidating member of their set, Ashford could be quite menacing when he chose to be. Right now, he chose to be.

“I do have a problem. I have a vested interest in this establishment. You shouldn’t be standing outside this shop attempting to intimidate patrons.” His tone was ominous, although he kept his facial features under tight control.

The man shrugged and looked straight ahead again. “What can you do about it?”

Ashford stood away from the wall. “There is an alleyway further down this side of the street. Someone of your social status should be well acquainted with it. We can proceed there, and once I have beaten you to a pulp, you may tell your employer Mr. Landry that he should leave Thorne’s Lending Library well alone.”

When the man heard Landry’s name mentioned, he opened his mouth in a wide circle. His eyes bulged.

Ashford smiled grimly. “Yes, I know why you are here and who sent you. Shall we proceed to the alley?”

The man turned on his heel and stalked away down the street. Despite his irritable mood, Ashford was relieved. He might have been able to best the man, but he didn’t relish a street fight. Not in such a public area.

He entered the lending library, the jingle of the bell over the door announcing his entry. His gaze automatically went to the seating area in the shop. It looked as if someone had been rearranging furniture in the library. There was no sign of Lady Charlotte or her friends.

“Good day, my lord,” a smiling Robbie said cheerily. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Ashford inclined his head and asked, “Your employers are here?”

“In the back room. I can fetch Mr. Thorne for you.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather not worry him with this matter. Robbie, have you noticed a large man standing outside of the shop?”

“I have.” He added in a low voice, “So has Mr. Thorne. He and his missus enter the shop by the lane in the back, so Mrs. Thorne hasn’t seen the man yet. Mr. Thorne would like to keep it that way.”

“The man is gone now. If he should return, send a note to my home. You can read and write?” When Robbie nodded in reply, Ashford retrieved a calling card from the pocket of his greatcoat. He handed the card and two guineas to the boy. “One guinea is for you, and the other is for a delivery boy if you should need one.”

“Thank you ever so much, Lord Ashford. I will let you know if the man returns.” The young man pocketed the card and coins.

“If you see anything else that troubles you, send word to me immediately.”

“Yes, my lord.” Robbie gave a mock salute. “I will notify you of anything untoward.”

When Ashford exited the shop, the large man was nowhere in sight. If he heard of any more problems at Thorne’s Lending Library, he might just hire a Bow Street Runner to keep an eye on the shop. He really didn’t have an appointment in Berkeley Square today. He’d gone to Thorne’s because he was concerned about the safety of the library’s clientele.

He told himself he was merely worried about the public. A nagging voice he chose to disregard told him there was a much more personal reason for his concern.