Chapter One
Charity Eva Price desperately sought to quell the bone deep nervousness that she felt, resisting the urge to rock back and forth on the soft velvet squabs of the carriage she rode in. Wishing she had not promised cousin Violet that she would finally attend a ball with her. Though Violet had assured her it would be a small gathering Charity could tell by the number of conveniences pulling away from the mansion and those waiting impatiently behind their carriage that was not the case.
Clasping her hands in her lap she listened to the excited voices that reached inside the carriage, many with the high pitched sound of young women caught up in the excitement of their first coming out.
“Violet we agreed to a small gathering.” Not succeeding in keeping the accusatory tone from her voice.
“My sweeting this is one of the smallest soirees of the season. You can hardly blame me if it is more than what you imagined.”
Charity didn’t react when the woman across from her reached over and clasped her trembling cold hands in her warm grasp.
“I’m not sure I can do this.” Charity felt less confident than when she had agreed to the outing, the first in her five and twenty years.
She knew she had little going for her, too plain to be considered attractive unlike her beautiful blue eyed cousin. Nor did she have the refined social skills Violet had honed over her many years spent among society after returning to London as a duke’s widow. She did not come from a family of high aristocratic standing and she had no dowry to attract even the slightest bit of interest, but none of that mattered. Even if she had all the social graces and unquestionable beauty and endless riches that turned the heads of the most sought after gentlemen of the ton she still had one great disadvantage that other women did not have hindering them.
Shortly after celebrating her seven and tenth birthday she suffered a severe head injury that resulted in the total loss of her sight. An injury inflicted by her uncle, Violets’ own father James Augustus Baker, who after her parents perished in a horrific carriage accident when she was just seven years old had become her guardian along with his wife Mary. Charity left the only home she had ever known to live in a strange house with people she barely knew. The only shining light in an otherwise dismal time was the friendship that developed between the two girls.
Four years later, Aunt Mary was laid to rest in the family plot beside Charity’s’ parents changing Uncle Augustus forever. In his grief he became a bitter mean man that rushed to rid his house of a daughter that reminded him of his beloved wife by forcing Violet at the age of six and ten to marry a man she had never met and was twenty years older. Violets’ new home was in northern England so Charity was never able to see the friend she dearly missed and spent the next year in a bleakly lonesome household. Violet’s infrequent letters often spoke of her unhappy marriage to the Duke of Summerton a cold uncaring man that rarely acknowledged her existence and was constantly unfaithful.
It was because of these letters that when Augustus informed Charity of the marriage he had arranged for her with a man forty years her senior that she became determined to not allow it. During one rather heated argument where Charity, after becoming exasperated, had screamed her refusal and in a fit of temper her uncle grabbed her by the head and smashed her against stone fireplace, twice.
There had been a time when the doctor feared Charity would not recover and when she finally regained consciousness Charity wished she hadn’t. Waking to total darkness had been, in her estimation far worse than death itself.
Augustus, not wanting the burden of caring for a cripple did what most everyone else of the time did, he committed her to the insane asylum. Bedlam became her home, a home of terror where she was deprived of decent human treatment and lived in fear every single second of every day. Her life was a constant struggle for survival in the overcrowded crumbling facility that stunk of human suffering and she would not have survived had it not been for Hubert. A patient at Bedlam, Hubert was a giant of a man with the mind of a small child. Charity never knew why he had taken a liking of her but from her very first day Hubert became her protector. Where other female patients suffered unspeakable treatment from male patients and staff Hubert defended her virtue, when there was a shortage of food Hubert would share his and when beatings were being aimed her way Hubert would step in and take the punishment meant for her.
Charity had long accepted her fate that she would never to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin or hear the soft melodious tone of her cousin’s voice or feel the loving touch of some man she was lucky enough to call husband. No, she was resigned to the fact that she was meant to die in that horrible place her uncle had abandoned her to. Until one day when Hubert had been forced from her side and a particularly mean female nurse took the notion to beat Charity with a leather strap in the crowded dining hall and Dr. Andrew Phillips intervened. That day his kindness changed her fate forever.
The hiss of the lash cutting through the air her only warning before it struck. Charity knew instinctively who wielded the lash. It was a favorite of nurse Hemplestead, an overly large woman who used her immense bulk to terrorized inmates and fellow staff alike. She was a savagely vicious person who once in the grip of a rage was difficult to stop. Rumors abounded of the number of defenseless patients that had expired at her hand. The vile woman took great pleasure inflicting pain on the weak and Charity was certain that if Dr. Phillips had not be in attendance she would surely have faced her maker that day.
From that day hence the doctor became her protector, going so far as acquiring her release from the hospital into his care. It took several years to convince the Bedlam directors of ‘mad doctors’ to allow her release but the last two years prior to Violet coming back into her life Charity had resided with the good doctor and his wife.
“I will be at your side the entire time.” Violet’s voice pulled Charity out of her memories and back to her present situation. She knew asking Violet to give up dancing and conversing with friends for her sake was like asking the stars to stop twinkling in the night sky. Violet was highly sought after by gentlemen and ladies alike with Charity being the complete opposite. She would have Violet lead her to a quiet corner somewhere and there she would stay, giving Violet the freedom to enjoy herself.
The first thing Charity noticed once they made their way inside was the smell. Too many bodies using too liberal amounts of perfume or cologne mixed with sweat and the aroma of cooking food wafted heavily in the air. If her nose was correct they would be having roast beef, asparagus and something chocolate for the late night dinner.
Violet spoke to Charity, her voice soft and low for only her to hear, “We approach our hosts, Lord and Lady Dewaldington. She is on your right he is immediately to the left. Behind them stands their daughter Prudence.”
The two ladies had spent hours practising walking together with just Violets’ hand on Charity’s elbow guiding her. She learned when to move, when to stop and which way to turn just by the pressure of Violets’ fingers. Most people didn’t even notice that she was being led around by her cousin but Charity knew it and most times she hated that she was so dependant. Other times like tonight she was glad for it, it gave her a sense of security, and anchor in a sea of unknown.
Introductions were made and as every time before Charity could tell by their tone of voice, the hesitation, the stumbling over their words exactly when Lord and Lady Dewaldington realized they were addressing a cripple. She hated this part even more but Charity was determined that she would not allow their sudden awkwardness to affect her. Raising her chin a notch she curtsied and smiled her sweetest thanking the couple for the invitation.
“It is very kind of you to have included me with Violet’s invitation to your festivities.”
Lady Dewaldington sputtered her reply, clearly she had been unaware of Charity’s condition, if she had been Charity was quite certain the invitation would not have arrived. Charity could feel the woman’s discomfort as if it reached out and grabbed her making her wish for the hundredth time that she had not agreed to attend the ball. After much throat clearing by Lord Dewaldington Violet gripped Charity’s elbow and steered her away from the couple after a hasty introduction to their daughter. As they moved away Charity could hear their hushed whispers behind her and knew that they were speaking about her. Funny how people believed that because one had no sight they also had no hearing and failed to realized how their words carried.
“Pay no heed to them Charity,” Violet’s voice had a hard edge of anger to it, “they are of no significance.”
“Then why are we here?”
“To introduce you to the people who are important, people who could help with your plans for the school and perhaps even find you a husband.”
Charity wanted to stop her cousin right where they were but didn’t dare with the number of people she could hear following behind.
“Please tell me that is not the whole reason you have dragged me out here. You know it is a pointless endeavor, no man wants to be saddled with an invalid.” Charity kept her voice to a harsh whisper having no desire for those in close proximity to overhear their conversation.
Violet patted Charity’s bare arm, “Of course it is not. Like I told you earlier I simply loathe attending these affairs by myself. And as I said before you are not an invalid and besides I have never thought it good for you to closet yourself away from others.” She increased the pressure on Charity’s elbow to move her to the right just in time to avoid a gentleman that stepped into their path.
“Dear cousin it is very kind of you but I fear there are few who share your sentiments.” Charity stopped with Violet, a few paces ahead she heard a loud booming voice announcing individuals to the gathered crowd.
“I don’t think you should dismiss the possibility of a husband.” Violet said as she scanned the crowd looking for possible candidates to introduce Charity to. Ahead of them in the line stood Viscount Averly, new to his title the blond blue eyed Lord only a year or two older than Charity would be a good match Violet thought. Farther into the ballroom she noticed another gentleman, Bartholomew Wickes, the Earl of Chatway. Violet knew him to be an amiable fellow with no known scandal attached to his name. His coal black hair and broad shoulders attracted him a great deal of attention but as of yet at the age of seven and thirty he had not married. Word around the ton he was in the market.
“Stop that,” Charity scolded.
“What?”
“I know you are checking the crowd for potential victims of your matchmaking Violet, and it is a waste of time.” They moved into the crowded ballroom after being announced. Violet steered them around the outer edge of the room avoiding the large groups of people.
“I only want to see you happy cousin,” Violet told Charity as she nodded to several of her acquaintances but did not stop to speak with them when she noticed the shocked looks upon their faces when they realized Charity was not like them.
“I am happier than I have been in years for which I am forever in your debt. You have given me a sense of independence that I never thought possible. I will not give that up or my dream of opening a music school for the blind for anything, most certainly not for a husband who will want to take that all away from me.”
“Dear cousin I’m not expecting you to marry the first man you meet tonight…”
“That’s a relief.” Charity stated dryly.
“And after the way father forced an unwanted marriage on me I would never press you to marry someone you did not love…”
“That’s a relief.” Charity repeated with a smile.
“But I don’t want you to dismiss the idea all together.” Violet rushed to finish.
“What of you Violet dear? Should you not be on the lookout for love and companionship yourself?” Charity believed that of the two of them, after enduring a horrible first marriage Violet deserved matrimonial bliss more than she.
“I am enjoying my independence far too much to want to be tied down to a husband.” Violet dismissed the idea with a flick of her wrist.
Charity knew that Violet would never have a chance to marry as long as Charity was in her care. Just like no man would want to be married to a cripple no man would marry a woman designed to caring for one. The reality of her situation caused Charity no small amount of melancholy. She had no desire to marry but if she didn’t there was no way Violet would either and Charity hated the idea that her cousin would miss out on happiness because of her.
Thus once the two women had made a full circuit of the dance floor, taken refreshments of champagne and chatted with a few acquaintances Charity insisted on Violet dancing with a gentleman that requested her hand. Violet had hesitated to leave Charity’s side but when she assured her cousin that she would be fine for a dance or two Violet relented.
That was how their evening progressed, Violet dancing a set or two while Charity stood on the side listening to the music and the chatter going on around her. Then they would take a turn around the floor stopping to speak with friends of Violet’s, many of which were gentlemen that Violet made a point of introducing Charity to each. Most of the men were kind and some even held a tone of interest in their voice but Charity knew the instant they noticed her unfocused amber eyes. They usually ignored her all together pretending she wasn’t even there speaking only to Violet or quickly stammered an excuse as they begged their leave. Charity didn’t let it bother her because she had resigned to the belief that she would never marry despite what Violet thought or hoped.
The two ladies were standing near the open terrace doors hoping for a cooling breeze and sipping watered down lemonade when Violet suddenly gasped, “Oh my.”
Turning to her Charity asked, “What is it?”
“An old friend I had not thought to see here this evening just arrived.”
Charity detected a slight change in Violet’s voice and wondered what it was about this friend that disturbed her cousin. “Is it a good or bad that your friend is here?”
“He has not been seen out among society here in London for almost a year.”
Charity noted the puzzlement but not wanting to seem like a gossip she did not ask if his absence was due to scandal. Violet must have read her mind though, “For no reason anyone could say, for several years now he has appeared and then just drops out of sight. Rumor has it he left England for the continent, Spain in particular and some speculate that he has turned to the French in this time of war. Most say it was due to a woman but no one knows for certain but from the look of the dark haired beauty on his arm I would say that rumors are correct.”
Charity silently hoped that Violet’s friend would stay on the other side of the dance floor, she did not want to be introduced to another person who would treat her like she had a contagious disease and must be avoided at all costs. Especially since he was a traitor to his country. Sadly luck was not on her side this evening.
“He is moving this way,” Violet whispered, “his name is Dane Fitzhugh, Dane Alexander Fitzhugh sixth Duke of Westbrook. When he approaches curtsey and offer him your hand. Remember to hold your curtsey for several seconds before…”
“Cousin,” Charity interrupted, “you taught me well. Have I not followed all your teachings this evening?”
Charity felt Violet take a deep calming breath beside her, “Apologizes my dear, of course you have and flawlessly at that.”
Charity knew the moment the couple stood before them. Without sight her other senses were much more acute and even in a large room filled with people she was able to distinguish their individual scents. Hers, the dark haired beauty Violet spoke of, was an overpowering scent of rose water that Charity combined with unwashed body, soap for washing clothing and if Charity was correct the woman also wore face powder or perhaps rouge. Altogether it was quite an unpleasant bouquet.
The gentleman on the other hand was in possession of a very pleasing almost heady scent. The earthy tang of sandalwood, leather, crisp clean air and something that Charity could not describe but knew was distinctly him. It invaded her senses and she couldn’t stop from secretly filling her lungs with the smell of him. With each breath her awareness of him spread through her veins like a fine wine until she almost forgot all of Violet's instructions over the past year. If not for her cousin’s discreet tug on her gown Charity would have completely disgraced herself before she dropped low before the gentleman with flaming cheeks.