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The Last Wicked Rogue (The League of Rogues Book 9) by Lauren Smith, The League of Rogues (15)

15

Charles stared at his outfit in the mirror of his bedchamber, his nerves running rampant. He’d woken early, far too early, and had lain in bed for hours planning in detail how he wanted to spend the day with Lily. He’d accounted for Emily’s usual games. No doubt the woman would try to play matchmaker and have her own agenda, but Charles was determined to see things through his own way.

He looked over his bottle-green waistcoat embroidered with gold stags, his buff breeches and dark-blue coat. Would Lily approve? He’d never thought his appearance questionable before, but now he was doubting every choice he made.

“My lord?” Davis stood there at his right side, frowning. “Did I choose something incorrectly?”

Charles frowned now as well. “No. I’m simply unsure of myself. Do you think I look impressive? If you were a lady, I mean.”

Davis gave a half smile. “I think you quite handsome, my lord. If I were a lady, that is.”

“I’m so bloody nervous after all these years.”

“Nervous, sir? I’ve never seen you nervous meeting a lady before.”

“This is different. None of my usual games, secret rendezvous, or sneaking in through windows. I wish to do things right.”

“I see, my lord. Well, that would be a change for you.”

Charles turned to face Davis slowly, and the man’s smile vanished.

“I’m sorry, my lord, I didn’t mean…”

“No, you’re right, of course. Lord, I don’t even know what a proper time to call on a lady is. Do you?”

“I believe late morning to the early afternoon is considered acceptable.” Davis used a small brush to remove some dust from the coat, not that Charles saw any.

“Late morning. Early afternoon.” Charles slipped his pocket watch out and glanced at it. It was only half past nine. Bloody hell, how was he going to spend the next two hours?

His butler appeared in the doorway. “My lord?”

“Yes?”

“There’s a Mrs. Ellis here to see you,” said Ramsey. “She said she’s answering the notice you posted seeking a governess and nurse for Katherine and little Oliver.”

“Right!” He’d forgotten about his quest for a nurse after everything else that had happened.

“I put her in the drawing room, and I’ll have a maid bring in some tea.”

“Thank you, Ramsey.” Charles tugged his waistcoat down to smooth out any wrinkles and tucked his watch back in his pocket. Then he headed to the drawing room.

He found a middle-aged woman waiting patiently in a chair. She moved to stand when he entered, but he waved for her to remain seated.

“Mrs. Ellis?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord.” The woman’s blue eyes were gentle and her smile open. He liked that. Nurses who didn’t smile weren’t always the best for children. He took a seat across from her and studied her more closely. Plain clothes, good hair, but styled in a plain chignon, and a pleasing face and voice. All good, but he still had questions, ones that mattered more than her appearance.

“Now, how long have you been a nurse and governess?”

“Ten years,” she said. “I was employed by Viscount Richmond and his wife for their children, but they are now grown enough to attend Eton.”

“I see. And have you worked with younger children? Say two or three years old?”

She nodded. “I worked with one of the boys since he was three and the other since he was five. I’m quite comfortable with the little ones.”

“Good, good. Now”

“Pardon me, my lord, but I should like to meet the little ones.”

“Ah… Well, one child is not here. You see, the child is the little sister of my valet. Their mother died, leaving the young man to care for child, and I look after my people. I’m fond of Katherine and wanted her to have the best care.”

Mrs. Ellis’s brows rose in surprise. “You want me to care for a servant’s child?”

Charles frowned a little.

“Ah, I see…” Mrs. Ellis’s gaze turned shrewd. “She’s the child of a liaison?”

The question was bold and inappropriate, but he couldn’t blame the woman for the assumption.

“Forgive me,” she quickly added. “But it is important to know these things ahead of time, for the child’s sake.”

It certainly wasn’t an implausible scenario. He had known men in that very situation. But he did not sleep with servants. It was not an issue of class but of power and choosing not to wield it over those who had none. And Tom’s mother had been a lady’s maid to a countess.

“She isn’t mine, but you will find, Mrs. Ellis, that I have an open heart when it comes to children. One of my best footmen lost his wife last year and is raising a son on his own. He’ll be your other young charge.”

“It’s about time we had lords taking care of children. I think it’s a fine thing indeed, my lord.”

He sensed she was teasing him, though he couldn’t fathom why.

“So, you will take the position?”

Mrs. Ellis didn’t immediately answer. She took a moment to study him, and finally nodded.

“Excellent. Even though the lad and his sister aren’t here, I’d like you to start right away with Davis’s son so you will be settled in when Tom and his sister return.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She held up a carpet bag. “I had hoped this position would be suitable, and I came prepared.”

“Good. Have the housekeeper show you to your room, and you will have a chance to meet the staff and little Oliver.”

He waited for her to proceed him. Once he was sure she would be seen to, he checked his pocket watch again. That hadn’t taken nearly enough time.

“Sir?” Davis spoke up as he exited the servants’ stairs. “I just met with Mrs. Ellis. She and Oliver took to each other right away. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.” Charles’s face heated a little. It was always a bit embarrassing when they thanked him for his generosity. In his mind, his actions should be considered normal, not something exceptional.

“You’re welcome, Davis. I believe she’ll suit the children very well. But if you’d like to repay the favor, I could use some advice as to how to spend my time before paying a call on my intended lady.”

“Perhaps you could buy the young lady flowers?” the footman suggested hopefully. “That will take at least half an hour, and it would bring a smile to her face.”

“Davis, you are a smart man.” He winked at the footman, grabbed his greatcoat, and left to summon his coach. The best flowers were on Bond Street.

At the flower shop he met a young lady with doe-brown eyes and honey-blonde hair who was artfully arranging stems in a vase by one of the bloom-filled windows. He noted the quality of the cloth of her gown, even though it was a season or two old. It was possible the young lady had fallen on hard times and had sought out employment here. Well, he’d be sure to reward her for any help she could give him today.

“Excuse me, miss?” He cleared his throat, and the young lady gasped, almost toppling the vase of flowers. Charles steadied the vase and set it securely back on the table. The woman faced him, a blush coloring her cheeks.

Charles grinned. “I’m terribly sorry.” At least he still had some ability to dazzle the ladies left with him. With Lily he felt untried and ineffective, but it seemed she was the only woman not completely dazzled by him.

“What may I help you with?” The girl waved at the flowers that covered every surface of the store.

“I need a bouquet,” he began uncertainly. It had been longer than he could remember since he’d had to work at winning a woman over. All too often, they fell head over feet for him with no effort on his part, but it was different with Lily. He wanted to be a shining knight for her, a man who would give her the world or perish in the attempt.

“For a lady you admire? Or shall this be for a proposal?” The woman waited patiently for Charles to decide.

“This would be…a courting…bouquet?” He prayed there was such a thing.

The woman tried to fight off a little smile. “Ah… First time to call upon your lady?”

He nodded, feeling a little jolt of nervousness.

The woman watched him, her hands hovering near a pot of gardenias. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s beautiful. She’s golden-haired, as though the sun kissed her, and her eyes are as blue as cornflowers. She’s tall and graceful…” He noticed the woman staring at him, and he realized praising Lily’s physical beauty was not what she had in mind. “She’s witty, intelligent, and most definitely wily. She ties me in knots. But she’s had hardships. Her late husband died after an illness and left her alone with their young daughter. She dances like a dream, but she’s also kind and thoughtful and mysterious…” He couldn’t resist smiling now. “When she laughs, the candlelight seems brighter, and when I hear her voice, the rest of the world falls away.”

“She’s made you into a poet, I see.” She was already moving about the shop, plucking colorful flowers one by one and tucking them into a vase. “That tells me all I need to know.” Then she returned and pointed out each selection.

“Gladiolas for strength and faithfulness. Calla lilies for innocence and purity, amaryllis for splendid beauty, and daffodils for unrequited love.”

“Unrequited?” Charles asked.

“Think of it as a plea for it to be requited,” she answered with a wink.

Charles noticed she missed one flower, a flower he recognized. “And the gardenias? What do they mean?”

The young florist smiled and touched his gloved hand. “Secret love…and the sender of gardenias is lonely.” The woman’s gaze drifted to the flowers, and he realized she must be lonely as well. Loneliness was so tragic in such a shop such as this.

“Is it that obvious that I’m lonely?” Charles asked.

“It’s in your eyes and how you speak about your love.”

Charles chuckled wryly. “Perhaps not much longer. How much for the bouquet?”

“Five shillings.” The florist carefully tied the bouquet with a blue satin ribbon and removed it from the vase, then handed it to him.

Charles handed her ten pounds.

“From one gardenia sender to another.” He gave her a grateful smile before he left the shop and returned to his coach.

He felt like a silly fool sitting in his coach with a massive bouquet in his hands, but he couldn’t think of any other way to show Lily he wanted to be a proper gentleman toward her. Thanks to Emily, his reputation no doubt preceded him.

As the coach stopped in front of Godric’s townhouse, a swarm of butterflies flapped madly inside his stomach. He checked his pocket watch yet again and sighed with relief. Almost eleven. Finally. Surely if he went up and knocked, Godric would let him in, even if he was a tad early.

His hand shook as he lifted the knocker and rapped on the door. When Godric’s butler, Simkins, answered, Charles grinned.

“Simkins, you old devil! Still alive, are we?” He slapped the man on the shoulder.

Simkins smiled indulgently. “No thanks to you. You are expected. I should warn you that all beverages have been put out of your reach. Should you be thirsty, I will bring you whatever you require—in a very small glass.”

“Then you’ll simply need to bring many of them.”

The butler’s gaze dropped to the massive bouquet. “Flowers? Well, now, you must be serious about this one,” Simpkins teased.

“I certainly am,” Charles admitted.

“God have mercy upon her. The ladies are in the morning room. Let me announce your arrival.” Simpkins left him standing in the foyer.

“Charles?” Godric’s booming laugh made him cringe. “Good Lord, are those flowers?” He came down the stairs, green eyes bright with humor.

“Not one more bloody word,” Charles warned. “I’ve had enough of that from your butler. Why hasn’t he retired yet?”

“He fears the day my rugs are left undefended from one of your visits. It’s what keeps him going.”

“Lord Lonsdale, the ladies will see you now,” Simkins announced as he returned to the hall.

Charles squared his shoulders and headed for the morning room. Godric stood at attention and gave a mock salute as he passed, then trailed behind him. Charles shot him a questioning look.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” said Godric.

Charles cursed under his breath and opened the door, prepared to face Emily as their chaperone and Lily, the woman fast stealing his heart.

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