Page 19 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
A quarter of an hour later, five small charges marched into the room. Their expressions ranged from excited to muted anticipation.
“Ladies, good day to you.” Charlotte clasped her hands in front of her waist. “I hope you all have enjoyed a pleasant morning.”
“We have, Missus Taylor.” Young Polly’s hazel eyes twinkled. “Cook added extra molasses to the porridge, and it was ever so good.”
Agnes, Fanny, Meg, and Elspeth nodded their heads. Cook had the little ones wrapped around her finger…or perhaps it was the sprites who had accomplished the reverse. Cook, of course, would never admit to such a claim.
“Porridge is so much better with extra molasses,” Charlotte said.
Meg, her blonde curls already slipping from her plaits, took a step forward. Her eyes were glued to the table Charlotte had taken such care to set. “Is that for us, Missus Taylor?”
“It is.” She turned and pulled out a chair for the young girl. “I thought we could have tea and practice our table manners.”
Five pairs of eager eyes collided with hers, and Charlotte worked hard to smother her smile. They were such dears, and after working with them on their deportment for the better part of the last year, she knew they relished any opportunity to practice their skills in a real setting.
How much more excited would they be if Lady Flora were their hostess? Or the Duchess of Darington? Even the Marquess of Inverray would have been a welcomed guest, although Charlotte suspected the Scotsman’s fierce appearance would intimidate her young charges.
Still, from their glowing faces, Charlotte felt it was safe to assume they did not require lofty, titled guests to be thrilled with the day’s lesson.
The girls rushed to their chairs, and Charlotte took a moment to assist with pushing them in. After seating herself, she lifted her napkin and placed it in her lap. Her charges mimicked her movements.
“Fanny, will you pour for us?”
With flushed cheeks, Fanny rose and grasped the teapot, her arm shaking slightly at the weight. Catching Charlotte’s questioning brow, she smiled and poured her a perfect cup. Fanny continued around the table, pouring expertly and preparing her friends’ tea to their specifications.
While the girls selected a biscuit from the tray, the sound of the door opening drew Charlotte’s attention.
Finlay filled the doorway, his sudden appearance spiking Charlotte’s pulse until she was almost certain she was having an apoplexy. Meeting his green gaze, even fleetingly, was enough to undo all the calm control she’d scraped together in the kitchen.
“I apologize,” he said, taking a step into the room, a smirk curving his sinful lips. Charlotte noticed his tone was anything but apologetic. “I had hoped to find Lord Inverray here today.”
“His Lordship is not here on Thursdays,” Elspeth said a second before she slapped her hands over her mouth.
“Oh, that’s right.” Finlay playfully smacked his forehead, delivering a devastating smile to the petite redhead. For an embarrassing half second, Charlotte was jealous the child was the recipient of such a smile.
Shaking off such a ridiculous thought, Charlotte set her jaw. “From what Lady Flora has mentioned, the marquess can probably be found at Westminster.”
Finlay advanced into the room until he came to a halt near the table. His eyes danced across the tabletop’s display before meeting Charlotte’s gaze. She curled her hands into fists at the inferno of emotions it sparked. “Thank you for sharing that detail, Mrs. Taylor. I’d hate to bother Inverray at Westminster, though.”
Charlotte nodded, unsure of what her response should be. She glanced around the table, alarmed to see her charges staring at the viscount with a mixture of disbelief and awe.
She didn’t blame them. In his buff pantaloons, gold embroidered waistcoat, forest green superfine coat, and expertly polished Hessians, he looked dashing. With his reddish blond hair falling over his brow, he looked like the kind of scandalous rogue her mother had long ago warned her about. And despite her memory of the warning, she was not immune to his charms.
In fact, Charlotte feared she gazed upon him with the same look of awe on her face.
“Have I interrupted your teatime?”
She was reluctantly charmed to note his cheeks were tinged pink.
“Will you join us?” Meg asked, turning to Charlotte to confirm her invitation had been appropriate.
Unable to think of a proper reason to rescind her student’s offer, Charlotte smiled. Truth be told, it didn’t feel like a smile. “Yes, Lord Firthwell, do join us for tea.”
Finlay considered her for a moment, and she fought not to fidget under his inspection. She wasn’t certain of what he was looking for, but she was determined not to give any indication how much his presence unnerved her.
And excited her. Drat it.
He turned his gaze onto her charges and spread his arms. “If you ladies don’t mind my presence, I’d be very happy to take tea with you.” He pivoted and grabbed a chair from along the wall. “I’m certain I’d not find lovelier companions anywhere in London.”
