Perfectly Flawed (9 page)

"It is not your fault he chose to exaggerate your tale."

"I suppose that is true." Charlotte sighed. "What if he
should tell the other gentlemen?"

"It would be the best possible outcome imaginable,
Char-Char. The more who know, the more we can be
certain of their true affection. The ones who do not return did not truly care for you."

"Why must you see the worst in people?" This wasn't
the first time she'd chastised Muriel for her suspicious
nature.

"I might ask you why you always see the good in
everyone," Muriel countered.

"Whether you wish to see it or not, most people are
good and kind. If given a proper chance, that is," Charlotte added in an afterthought. "If you were older than
fifteen, you might see that for yourself. Now, if you will
excuse me, I have other guests."

Charlotte walked away as calmly as if she had not
just had a row with her sister. Muriel headed along the
side of the house. She waved at Susan, who, it seemed,
was the last remaining person standing on the east lawn,
along with a few servants.

"They've gone," Susan told Muriel when she came
within conversational range. "Every one of them."

"All of them?" Muriel glanced toward the rear terrace and then the stables. There was no one in sight. Had Lord
Irving's hasty exit precipitated the other gentlemen's
departure?

"It was quite amazing really." Susan brushed Muriel's arm and nodded to a man walking up the drive. "Do
you think that might be one gentleman who's changed
his mind?"

"Let us see, shall we?" Muriel linked her arm through
her friend's, and together they walked toward the drive
to welcome their visitor. It did not take long to see it was
not a young man in fine dress, but a middle-aged one in
rather worn clothing. Muriel soon recognized Mr. Ellis.

"Good day to you, Lady Muriel, Miss Susan." He removed his hat, greeting them, and appeared in very high
spirits.

"Greetings, Mr. Ellis," Susan replied.

Muriel nodded her head, acknowledging him.

"I'm here to speak to Sir Philip Somerville. Would
you happen to know if he's about?" Mr. Ellis glanced
around as he spoke.

"Did he not pay you as he said he would?" Muriel
would not find this a surprise. She tried not to smile or
appear too cheery at this dreadful news.

"Paid me for my trouble, he did. More than enough."
Mr. Ellis smiled, replacing his hat. "Just need to tell him
I'd brought his cattle to ole Gilbert's farm, like he told
me."

"Sir Philip's horses?" The reference startled Muriel
from her disappointment at the baronet settling his ac counts in a timely manner. "The pair of bays that pulled
his curricle?"

"Aye, that be his cattle, alright." Mr. Ellis laughed.

"Why would he do that?" Susan seemed puzzled by
the action. "Have them brought to the village, and then
have them brought all the way to Farmer Gilbert's?"

"Put them on a bloomin' holiday, he does. Treats
them like royalty." Mr. Ellis rubbed his jaw.

Muriel motioned for them to proceed to the manor.
"Let us speak to Huxley regarding the baronet's whereabouts."

Sir Philip showing kindness to his horses almost
made him likable, but Muriel could still not bring herself to think of him in any way nice.

"Had me order new traces, as well. Old ones were
roughed up some, but not torn through or any such thin',
didn't need to bother," Mr. Ellis continued. "Eli Hubbard
were glad to have the work, I tell you. I think Sir Philip
single-handedly brought more business to the village than
the lot of young London swells."

Susan brightened and announced, "Just imagine
that-Sir Philip making everyone happy!"

Not exactly everyone, Muriel added silently to herself.

Muriel glanced at Sir Philip just as he laid his fork
and knife upon his empty plate. Because of his company, supper had been a bit more formal than the previous evening when only the three ladies attended.

Sir Philip sat to the right of the Duke's place setting
at the head of the table, now empty. The baronet had
changed from his brown frock coat and buckskins into
an exquisitely cut blue superfine, buff trousers, and a
decidedly crisp cravat tied with perfection.

Charlotte, in one of her favorite muted blue gowns,
sat to the baronet's right. Muriel, who had allowed her
sister to advise her on what was proper to be worn, sat
across from Sir Philip, and Penny sat to Muriel's left.

"I think watching the footrace this afternoon has
given me quite an appetite." Sir Philip pressed his napkin to his mouth before folding it at the conclusion of
the meal.

He must have noticed the gentlemen's cravats were a
conglomeration of limp and wilted linens by the end of the race. The very thought of it might have been too much
for someone of Sir Philip's delicate dressing sensibilities.

"I did not think I could manage to finish a single
course" He folded his napkin and laid it next to his
plate.

"What a surprise," Muriel mumbled. "He is capable
of thought-or so he says."

Aunt Penny nudged Muriel under the table with her
foot but did not alert the others by looking at her youngest niece.

"I hope you found the meal satisfactory, sir." Charlotte's food had remained virtually untouched, not that
she had placed much on her plate to begin with. Apparently the day's activity must have affected her appetite
as well.

Aunt Penny gestured to a footman that it was time for
Sir Philip's port.

"It has been quite a day-with the accident, attending
to the repairs, and the footrace." Sir Philip chuckled at
the recollection.

"Gracious-it's a wonder you've managed to recover
enough to dine with us," Muriel added in a murmur. She
could not sit by and keep her disagreeable opinions to
herself.

"Enough!" Aunt Penny grunted under her breath. She
swung her foot a bit more forcefully toward Muriel's
leg, this second attempt successfully hitting the mark.

Muriel did not react and shifted her legs out of her
aunt's reach, lest a third attempt should be made.

"What entertainment do you have planned for tomorrow, ladies, if I may ask?" Sir Philip looked at
each of them for an answer. "I fear for the gentlemen's
accessories-hats, fobs, and walking sticks."

They had not discussed the following day. Surely they
could expect callers, many more than the six who had
won coveted spots for tea, but far fewer than the previous
day's.

"Sir Philip?" Muriel called to him, in a voice half an
octave higher than normal. "Do you plan to visit Bloxwich on business tomorrow? I believe you said something about the need to find a valet."

"And so I do." He accepted his after-dinner drink
from the footman and raised his glass to Muriel.

"We shall leave you to your port, sir," said Aunt
Penny. "If you will excuse us." She moved from the
table, as did her nieces, who followed her out of the dining room.

Moving down the corridor, Aunt Penny encouraged
Charlotte to enter the Citrus Parlor first. It was the room
where a cozy fire in the hearth awaited them, where
they spent most evenings plying their embroidery needle
or reading.

With a hand on Muriel's shoulder, Aunt Penny delayed
her. "A word, if you please."

Muriel slowed and stopped at the threshold. She remained silent.

"I am outraged at your conduct toward our guest,"
Aunt Penny scolded her. "I'm sure he has done nothing
to warrant your harsh words."

"He is after our Charlotte." Muriel directed a stern
gaze at her aunt.

"Oh, tish-tosh! He has not shown the least bit of interest in her."

"This aloof man-about-town is not to be trusted. He
is not what he seems," Muriel told her aunt. "He is very
careful in showing his true self to others, for good reason, but he does not fool me."

"Perhaps His Grace is correct in believing you need a
governess. Perhaps a ladies' school for manners would
not be out of the question." To threaten Muriel with the
mundane had always convinced her to mend her ways,
only in this instance it may not have been a threat. "You
will pay Sir Philip the respect that he is due, am I understood?"

"Completely, Aunt Penny." Muriel moved forward to
take her embroidery from her sister. "Thank you, CharChar."

"Moo, I am convinced that you could improve if only
you would put your mind to it. " Charlotte spoke regarding her embroidery skills, not her manners. "Here's your
hoop, Aunt Penny."

"You sister is capable of a great many things, Char, but
only when she is genuinely determined."

"Was he not handsome this evening?" Charlotte sank
onto the sofa but did not move to ply her needle. "His
dark blue jacket was certainly flattering, as was his cravat; it took a skilled hand to-" Her eyebrows rose in
either confusion or comprehension. "He does not employ
a valet, did you say, Moo?"

"For goodness' sake, enough about our guest, if you
please." Muriel huffed, seating herself on the opposite
end of the sofa. "Aunt Penny, do you have any notion
what we should plan for tomorrow afternoon?"

"We should have something in mind, surely." Aunt
Penny eased into the overstuffed chair decorated with
bright yellow lemons. "There must be some diversion for
the gentlemen who come to call. A display of Charlotte's
talent would be ... some music, perhaps?"

"We could certainly play several duets," Muriel said,
suddenly caught up with her aunt's idea. "And I'm sure
Sukey would join our party if she were asked; she has
forever been practicing with us."

"We'll also need Sir Nicholas to spread the word to
the gentlemen," Aunt Penny added. She would plead for
his help yet again.

"Right this way, sir." Huxley's familiar voice alerted
the three they would soon have company.

Muriel, Charlotte, and Aunt Penny straightened in their
seats. A shuffling of skirts and an exchange of glances
passed among them before Sir Philip stepped into the
room. The three stood as he entered.

"I beg your pardon-I do not wish to disturb you."
He motioned for them not to rise, but it was too late.
"Please do not bother yourselves."

"It is nothing, only a ladies' occupation." Aunt Penny
gestured for him to be seated and eased back into her
chair, as did Muriel, gathering up their embroidery now
that they had company.

"A worthwhile lady's endeavor," Sir Philip said. "Would
you mind showing me your efforts?"

"I attempt to make improvements," said Charlotte,
reaching back to retrieve her hoop. Muriel came to her
aid, substituting her own instead. "I believe one should
continually improve upon one's craft"

"Is this"-he glanced upon the stitching with a certain bit of bewilderment "your fine handiwork?" The
marked surprise on Sir Philip's face could not be masked.

How did Charlotte not realize he gazed upon the wrong
hoop? Muriel was certain her sister's singular thought
was for the baronet and that she saw nothing else.

"Quite commendable, indeed." Sir Philip cleared his
throat, obviously pushing aside all honesty. "I admire
your determination."

Muriel stood, retrieving the hoop, and put all of them
into the basket. "Excuse me, I need to write Sukey regarding tomorrow afternoon."

"I also need to pen a missive at once." Aunt Penny
rose and moved to the drop-front secretaire. "Will you
have the Music Room lit for our inspection?"

"Yes, Aunt Penny," Muriel said before stepping from
the room. "I shall return momentarily."

Charlotte would be left to entertain Sir Philip, if only
for the few minutes it would take to write Sir Nicholas.

"Would you care to take a turn about the room, Sir
Philip?" Charlotte offered, being the sole idle family
member.

Even though the room was small and the stroll along the perimeter would take no time at all, Charlotte had
done the proper thing by making the suggestion to occupy their guest.

Charlotte nearly shivered in anticipation when she
placed her hand upon Sir Philip's arm, accepting his escort. Their contact, although not intimate, excited her beyond belief. How could he not feel something between
them?

"This panel on this Sevres was the inspiration for this
room." She motioned to the decorative vase. "Papa had
this small parlor decorated with various types of citrus.
When we discovered these plates depicting lemons and
limes, we added them to our collection."

"And that is the reason this parlor has the most delectable depictions of these fruits," Sir Philip added.

"Exactly." Why it pleased her that he could see their
reasons for creating their parlor, she did not know, but it
had.

Sir Philip glanced about. His gaze followed the twining vinelike motif that curled its way along the upper
edge of the wall near the ceiling. His preoccupation gave
Charlotte time to admire him.

"Enchanting," he proclaimed. "Quite enchanting."