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

Chapter Twenty

C ecil’s coach halted in front of the offices of Mr. James Landry, grocer.

Ashford led the way into the building. This time, the clerk steered the peers to Landry’s office without prevarication.

Landry slowly got to his feet and waved his clerk away. “Come in, gentlemen. I’m assuming this is not a social visit.”

“No, it most certainly is not,” Ashford replied curtly. “My friends and I will not be taking seats.”

“As you wish,” the other man responded, his countenance unruffled. Landry retook his seat behind the large oak desk. “I myself prefer to be comfortable.”

The cit sat down, a faint smile on his lips. The clerk had gone, shutting the door to the room behind him.

“Thorne’s Lending Library is no longer your concern,” Ashford said gravely. “If you make any further attempts to damage the business, my partner,” he waved at Nathaniel, “and I will bring you up on charges of harassment.”

“And who is this partner of yours?” Landry asked lazily, eyeing Nathaniel.

“Baron Harbury, a well-respected former naval officer. He and I now own the land Thorne’s Lending Library sits on. We own most of the street.”

Landry jumped to his feet, his face reddening. “That is impossible!”

“I assure you it isn’t,” Cecil replied in a low voice, a grim smile playing about his mouth. “We know what you’re capable of, but you dare not move against two peers.”

James Landry replied with a sneer, “I thought we might be related one day, Lord Cecil. Such a shame. Perhaps you will find some other fool to take on your debt. Maybe one of your friends. These two seem flush enough.”

“It would be preferable to marrying a girl that wouldn’t be admitted into Almack’s or any respectable residence in London,” Cecil said, his expression and tone of voice reflecting distaste for the subject at hand.

Ashford thought the temperature in the room must have dropped several degrees. Mr. Landry’s smile was venomous. Cecil stared at the other man, not blinking. It appeared both men had plenty of practice restraining themselves.

“Mr. Landry, I want you to forget you ever heard of a lady named Charlotte,” Ashford warned. “If any harm comes to the lady or her friends, I will hold you personally responsible.”

Cecil added with a growl, “You’re not the only man who can get away with murder.”

“All of you have made a grave mistake,” Landry ground out as he stood shaking, hands clenched by his sides, fury in his eyes.

“Shall we go?” Ashford asked his friends. As he left the room, he couldn’t help but throw a barb at the murderous grocer. “The smell of shop has become too much for me, I’m afraid.”

* * * * *

C harlotte was relieved to be seated in Thorne’s, her best friends at her side. The day was sunny, a sign she hoped of better days to come for the lending library.

Mrs. Thorne was in the backroom, her husband and Robbie at their usual places behind their counters. Despite the shooting that occurred three days before, Mr. Thorne advised the ladies there had been a steady stream of patrons in the shop.

The moss roses on the female author’s table had been replaced with pink carnations, their spicy, sweet fragrance drifting to all corners of the library.

“Thank goodness Louisa’s brother convinced my father Thorne’s was now safe.” Edith frowned. “As my father hordes the news sheets in his study, I am terribly behind on current events.”

Louisa replied, “My youngest brother is acquainted with Lord Wycliffe, and the viscount told him Thorne’s was quite safe.”

“Lord Ashford advised my brother we could return to Thorne’s.” Charlotte wondered when she would see the marquess again.

“I thought Lord Ashford would come to Thorne’s,” Edith responded softly. “I believed he would want to assure himself that all was well.”

Charlotte had secretly thought the same thing. She’d known Lord Ashford wasn’t helping Thorne’s because he had feelings for her, but there had been a tiny kernel of hope inside her that perhaps that was the case. She had little experience with men and wondered if the marquess could tell she was smitten with him. The very thought was mortifying.

“You give the man more credit than he deserves,” Louisa said with a frown. “According to my brothers, Charlotte’s name is being linked with his. How dare the man disappear now that you have become an object of gossip.”

She couldn’t reply. Louisa’s last statement had rendered her speechless.

“It isn’t as bad as all that,” Edith replied soothingly. “The ton will soon find something new to wag their chins over.”

“What rumors have you heard?” Charlotte asked Louisa. Good heavens, the marquess would hate to be the subject of gossip.

Louisa replied, “My brothers tell me society is waiting for an announcement of your engagement. I told them there is no understanding between you and the insufferable Lord Ashford.”

Charlotte wouldn’t waste her breath trying to convince her friend that Lord Ashford was an honorable man. The marquess had deemed Charlotte unsuitable, and Louisa found that circumstance unforgivable. As for herself? There was only one thing she regretted doing in her quest to keep Thorne’s open.

“Mr. Jacobsen told Mr. Landry about our visit to his office in Bishopsgate,” she said softly. “I may have put myself and you both in harm’s way. I am so sorry.”

“The important thing now is that Thorne’s is flourishing,” Louisa replied.

“And there is no reason to put yourself in danger again, Charlotte,” Edith said forcefully. “Thorne’s isn’t worth losing such a wonderful friend.”

Charlotte felt emotion rise inside of her. Her friends supported her and accepted her for who she was. She could ask for nothing more. “Yes, we may have saved Thorne’s from closing.”

“We should celebrate,” Louisa said a little too gaily. “Gunter’s it is, and I will use my pocket money.”

“Huzzah! That will be a first,” Edith replied with a grin.

Charlotte grinned back, hoping her disappointment in not seeing the marquess at the lending library didn’t show.

“I might just have to get two ices,” she said to Louisa. “For you surely owe me more than that.”

* * * * *

“T hank heavens Diana isn’t featured in that dratted novel,” his mother said after Ashford told her of his recent conversation with Lady Lamb. “Now, she may return from exile without worry.”

Although he wouldn’t have characterized his sister’s stay in Bath as a period of exile, he did not correct his mother.

“The viscountess had no recollection of the incident Diana was worried about.” He shrugged and sighed deeply. “All that bother for nothing.”

“We had to know for sure, Ashford,” his mother replied gravely.

They were seated in the dining room where he’d joined his mother for a light luncheon. The restlessness was taking over again. He was starting to believe it was more than merely missing the countryside. He was bored. In a rut.

“Diana has behaved erratically ever since the death of her fiancé.” He shook his head. “I am sympathetic, Mother, but that does not mean she can go about blackening the good name of our family.”

He was surprised when his mother did not answer, but merely nodded.

“When she returns to London, I will welcome her home, but she must temper her behavior.”

His mother sighed. “One thing life has taught me, my son, is that we cannot understand what others are going through unless we have walked a mile in their shoes.”

For a moment, he imagined what it would feel like to lose someone he loved. His mother had lived through that pain, as had Diana. An image of Charlotte flashed in his mind, startling him.

“I will try to remember that.” He stood up and called to Chloe, who was sniffing the shoes of a nearby footman. “Come along, girl. I think we both need a walk out of doors.”

As he walked to the park, Chloe by his side, his thoughts turned to his friends. Which one of them would be the first to marry?

Cecil might joke about his brother marrying young, but he knew his friend approved of his brother’s wife and was happy for the boy. Cecil’s mother resided in the country. The viscount rarely spoke of her, and Ashford didn’t push for any confidences.

He hadn’t truly been worried Cecil would marry the daughter of someone in trade, no matter his financial difficulties. There were enough heiresses in London with a pedigree not to warrant the need to wed a tradesman’s daughter.

As for himself? What with the war and Diana’s exploits, he hadn’t thought that much about his own future. Maybe Nathaniel was right. It was time to do so.

Ashford hoped his friend would find a lovely young woman worthy of him. Nathaniel was a kind, generous man. Easy going and with a good temper. As for Cecil? Any woman who captured Cecil’s heart, if he had one, would be exemplary indeed. He couldn’t conceive of such a paragon of womanhood existing.

He was dissembling again. Thinking of others rather than himself. It was so easy to see the clear path for others. He needed a lady of breeding and good family to beget his heirs. It sounded passionless, but there it was in a nutshell. Was it not the same for the females of the ton ?

Lady Charlotte was too often in his thoughts these days. Was her brother the sticking point, or was he simply looking for an excuse as Nathaniel had suggested?

She was from a good family, an heiress. No stain attached to the line.

Would she have him? He knew he had hurt her with his attitude toward her brother. He’d judged her and her brother far too harshly. When it came down to it, was Diana’s behavior any better than William’s?

He hadn’t seen Charlotte for several days. Not since the shooting near Thorne’s. He remembered how lovely she’d looked at Alicia’s card party. Lord Meers was not wrong to want to capture her attention. Charlotte was sweet, witty, and intelligent; she also had a kind and giving nature. Perhaps he should ask Alicia to warn the lady about Lord Meers. He was an infamous fortune hunter, after all.

He must see Charlotte again. Speak with her. He wasn’t sure what love felt like. All he knew was that when she was near him, he couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Either he was in love or ill.

* * * * *

C harlotte tried to feel excited about attending a ball given by the Duke of Norfolk. It was the event of the season. Although the duke was known to have one of the finest libraries in all of England, she doubted she would have a moment to privately examine the books on hand at Norfolk House .

“You look a picture, my lady,” her maid Sally said as she put the finishing touches on her mistress’s coiffure.

The maid had been eager to dress Charlotte’s hair in a style from Ackerman’s magazine, with ringlets next to her face, the hind hair brought in rows of plaited braids to the top of her head.

“Thank you, Sally,” she replied with a smile, observing her reflection in the looking glass on top of her dressing table. Dabbing Tuberose perfume behind her ears, she was ready for the ball.

William was to be her escort to the ball that evening, as her parents had a prior engagement. Louisa and Edith would be chaperoned by one of Louisa’s brothers.

It had been four days since she’d returned to Thorne’s.

“There is no longer any danger of the library closing,” Mr. Thorne told her just that afternoon. “Lord Ashford assures me any threat to Thorne’s has passed and our trade has increased tenfold thanks to you and your friends.”

She was happy she’d had some part in keeping Thorne’s open. Edith and Louisa had been careful not to mention Lord Ashford to her since their treat at Gunter’s Tea Shop.

Charlotte had neither seen nor heard anything more about the marquess or James Landry.

The lending library was safe; Lord Ashford was out of her life. In a few days, she hoped to feel more like her usual self. William had matured considerably in the last sennight and had even shown interest in learning about running the estate in Kent.

Charlotte had good friends and a loving family. She should feel content, but all she really felt was lost. Her days were not as pleasant as they had been, and she was very much afraid she knew the reason why.