Perfectly Flawed (15 page)

"I beg your pardon," she apologized. This was the
second time she had taken a misstep. Normally she was
not such a clumsy clod, but tonight ... She had to admit
she had eyes only for a certain baronet and not her current dancing partner, no matter who he might be.

For shame.

Again clasping her partner's hand, she moved to turn
under their raised arms.

Had Lord Stanton not toiled, competed from the very
first? He'd filled a pail full of gooseberries to earn him
a place at tea with her. Then he'd raced across the green,
in his stocking feet no less, to win the opportunity to
learn something about her.

He hadn't won a challenge, yet he must have full knowledge of her wandering eye and difficulty hearing. He must
truly love her, indeed.

Why had she found it so easy to look away from her
own dancing partner? Devoted, attentive Lord Stanton.
And here Charlotte pined for another man.

Lord Stanton was well connected and handsome, and
would come into the title of earl just as Sir Philip would.
But somehow the two men were not remotely the same.

Sir Philip did not have the obvious, traditional handsome visage. He was in possession of an attitude, a
manner that bespoke total confidence. His face may
have been perhaps a bit long, and his nose perhaps a bit
big, and his mouth perhaps a bit wide.

During the dance, Sir Philip stepped lightly, with his straight back and perfect arm positions. His toes were
pointed and moved with graceful precision. Charlotte
could not help but feel the sum of his parts created a
man she could truly love and admire for a lifetime.

For most of the Faraday Hall household, this was the
morning following the Hopkins' ball. For Philip it was
also the first day for his new valet.

"Good morning to you, Tom Sturgis," Philip greeted.
"You look very fine this morning." He'd purchased suitable clothing for his new employee. Two days ago Philip
insisted the young man bathe, have a fine meal, and get
a good night's rest before meeting him at Faraday Hall
for further instructions.

"And good day to you, Sir Philip." The boy stood taller,
obviously proud of his appearance.

"Now what should we call you?" Philip figured he ought
to have a new name to go along with his new position.

"Young Sturgis is usually what they calls me, on account o' my older brother Frank is Sturgis," he said. "You
could call me Tom."

"What about Thomas?" Philip suggested.

"Aye, that'll do me fine." His smiled nearly reached
from ear to ear.

"I see you've found my jacket and my boots." It
pleased Philip that his directions were followed with
aplomb.

"That I have, right where you said they'd be." Thomas
raised his left arm, the one with his employer's draped
jacket, and then lifted a pair of Hessians in the air.

"If you wish to remain in my service, I shall guarantee you a decent wage for equal effort. I shall retain
your services for as long I am willing to employ you
and you are willing to remain."

"I'11 give it my best, gov."

"If you please, you should address me as sir." Philip
reminded himself this was Thomas' first day.

"'Scuse me, o' course. Yes, sir."

"I expect to have need of your services for the entire
stay in Town. When I am ready to depart for the country at the end of the summer, you shall have a letter of
recommendation for subsequent employment. How does
that sound?"

"Fair enough, sir," the young man replied. "I promise
to do my best"

"Excellent" Philip nodded his head in agreement.
"One other thing before you leave, Thomas."

"Yes, sir?"

"Even though I am your employer, I do still expect
you to be your own man. Is that understood?" Philip did
not care for a servant who scraped the floor, mindlessly
following their employer's every direction.

"My own man- But, sir ... I don't think I understand." Thomas adjusted his hold on the boots.

Philip brought a fist to his pursed lips and cleared his
throat. "I expect you have an opinion and I don't mind if
you voice it every once in a while-especially if you
think I may be in error."

"Wrong? You, sir? Can't imagine such a thing."

"You'd be surprised. An honest valet is as valuable, if
not more, than one who can correctly starch a neckcloth."

"If you say so, sir." The young man chuckled goodnaturedly. "Can I be honest with you and speak my
mind?"

"I insist upon it." Philip had the feeling he was about
to receive his first of both. "Did you have something to
say?"

"More of a question, really."

"I shall endeavor to do my best to satisfy your curiosity."

"I've lived in Bloxwich my whole life. I've grown up
knowin' the Duke's family plenty while I helped my
brother at the Wild Rose." Thomas shifted his weight
from foot to foot, with what seemed growing unease.
"It's just that I- I've been hearin' talk of Lady Charlotte in the village."

"Gossip, Thomas?" Philip could not help but raise his
eyebrows in mild surprise.

"No, sir, I mean to say ... I'm askin' about her. If it's
true or not, about her, that is. They says she's deaf on one
side and missin' an eye on the other." His posture stiffened; the accounts clearly disturbed him. "I don't believe it, can't."

"I'm not certain I do either." Philip clapped Thomas
on the shoulder. "Think no more about it. Once I find an
answer, you can be sure I shall let you know."

He motioned for Thomas to continue on with his duties and then turned toward the house, facing the large
Breakfast Parlor window. The movement of the curtains
inside falling into place caught his attention. Had someone been there? Watching, perhaps? But they could not
have possibly overheard the conversation.

Muriel moved away from the window, pressing her
back to the Breakfast Parlor wall. While standing absolutely still, trying to avoid being found out, it dawned on
her that she may have misjudged Sir Philip.

While she had caught most of what Sir Philip had
said, she did not know to whom he was speaking. What
she did catch was the baronet had hired himself a valet.

"Lady Muriel?" Sir Samuel stepped into the Breakfast Parlor. "Are you alone?"

"As you see," she replied at her discovery. Had he entered a moment sooner, he would have caught her spying.
How would she have explained that?

"You are up rather early." He looked quite dashing in
a frock coat, buckskins, and top boots.

"You are as well," she countered. "Would you care
for coffee?"

"Thank you."

She took that as a yes and then heard faint but solid
footfalls heading in her direction. Might it be Sir
Philip?

Dropping her partially eaten toast on an empty plate,
she simply could not occupy a room with him. As rude
as she knew it might have been, Muriel quickly told Sir
Samuel, "The coffee urn's on the sideboard; please help
yourself," before leaving through the servants' door.

Muriel quickly headed toward the terrace, latching
the door behind her. She pulled her shawl snug around her
shoulders.

"Tom? Tom Sturgis, is that you?" Muriel saw him
with a dark brown coat draped over his arm and a pair
of boots in hand, heading for the stables. She moved
swiftly down the stairs and meant to follow him regardless of his direction.

This is Sir Philip's new valet?

"Yes, m'lady." He stopped, waiting for her. "I mean
to say ... er ... Lady Muriel."

Tom Sturgis, as far as she knew, helped his elder brother
Frank around the stables at The Wild Rose Inn and performed odd jobs. He stood before her well-groomed,
well-dressed, and eminently presentable. In his fine lightcolored waistcoat and pressed trousers, Muriel nearly
did not recognize him.

"Whatever are you doing here?" She'd seen him in
Bloxwich on occasion, but never at Faraday Hall.

"It's Thomas now," he amended. "Sir Philip ... er,
that's Sir Philip Somerville, took me on to-" He stopped
again and took a great deal of time to compose his reply.
"Sir Philip has offered me a position."

"As a valet?" It was an enormous undertaking for the lad, who was perhaps only a few years younger than
Muriel.

"Bit of this and a little of that. If I work hard, take
proper care for his wardrobe, and run his errands, he'll
learn me how to behave-er, teach me to talk like a right
gentleman."

Muriel admired him for wanting to improve himself.

Somehow Charlotte had sensed the goodwill in Sir
Philip from the start. Muriel had to admit she'd discovered he was not the completely odious, uncaring man
she had once thought.

"I best be movin' along." With a nod of his head,
Thomas excused himself and continued on his way. "I
bid you good day, Lady Muriel."

Thomas Sturgis had changed before her very eyes. He
displayed an enthusiasm and new purpose, and seemed
pleased with himself and the new challenge before him.
Sir Philip had single-handedly transformed Tom's life,
and that made quite an impression on Muriel. Could it be
she was losing her dislike for the baronet?

At the top of the stairs, Charlotte straightened the skirts
of her morning gown. The household staff was up and
about, busy with preparations. Morning calls would soon
begin. Flowers from her suitors had been arriving for
hours.

Stepping onto the main floor, she admired the
lovely daisies, colorful primroses, and the multitude of wildflowers. To view hothouse flowers here in the country would have been a rare thing indeed.

Huxley opened the front door and in walked Susan
Wilbanks. "Good day to you, Char-Char."

"Shouldn't you be at home waiting for your young men
to call?" Charlotte asked, stepping onto the ground floor.

"Anyone who is in the least desirable will be here, not
at Yewhill Grange, I fear. Where is Moo?" Susan untied
and removed her bonnet.

"Moo is .. " Charlotte purposely paused before continuing, and along with Susan said, "... reading a book."

"I am so glad you have come, Sukey. I am feeling
especially anxious."

"But why? Did you not have a glorious time last night
at the Hopkins' ball?"

"Yes, I enjoyed dancing, but there were still so many
gentlemen. To have them all pay calls ..." How could
Charlotte explain that she and her sister were trying to
discourage some of the men. Discourage some they had,
but others seemed to take their place.

"There are always loads of visitors. Why should this
afternoon be different from any other?" It was not Susan's fault she didn't understand Charlotte's difficulty.

"Ah, Sukey, I thought I heard your voice." Muriel appeared from around the corner of the corridor and set her
bookmark in her volume, permanently concluding her
morning reading. "Are we ready to face this afternoon's
onslaught?"

"Char-Char is having some doubts." Susan took Charlotte's hand in hers, lending some support.

"I am no closer to deciding-" Charlotte stopped and
closed her eyes. These last few days had been absolutely
maddening. Both Muriel and Susan stared, waiting for
her to continue. "As many as we have managed to convince that I may not be exactly who they believe me to
be ... you must admit there are many who still remain."

"What are you talking about, Char-Char?" Susan, who
now appeared more confused than ever, turned to Muriel for clarification. "You haven't done something to
purposely discourage them, have you?"

"Moo thought it best if we ...... Charlotte began.
"She had this idea that if I were to-"

"Not here." Muriel glanced around to make certain
they weren't seen before suggesting they relocate to her
sister's bedchamber to discuss the matter further. "I
shall explain our actions to your complete satisfaction
momentarily."

Upon entering her bedchamber, Charlotte made for
her dressing table to collect a handkerchief to staunch
the tears she feared might flow.

"The entire thing's been a deception," Charlotte supplied, feeling very guilty.

"Oh no, Char-Char-a test of their affection." Muriel
regaled the tales of Charlotte's invented flaws to Susan,
which only made her sister feel more dreadful.

After listening, Susan commented to Charlotte, "You
weren't trying to hurt them. Do not fret, dear Char-Char.
You will manage very well. There are loads of men left."

Muriel moved into the corridor. "Let us find Aunt
Penny and we can welcome the gentlemen."

Only minutes later, they found Aunt Penny. The girls,
led by Charlotte, descended the stairs, arriving to a near
riot.

The nearly two dozen visitors milled about in the
Grand Foyer without direction, mumbling to one another
in obvious discontent. A number of gentlemen shouted
in support of some recent proposed action.

"What shall I do?" Charlotte whispered to her aunt.

"I cannot understand what it is they wish, dear," a
confused Aunt Penny relayed to her niece.