Page 31 of Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library
A few minutes later, Mrs. Thorne returned from the back room. “It all looks splendid,” she said to Louisa with an uncertain smile. “Thank you for your assistance, my lady.”
Charlotte was happily surprised by the kind words. Mr. Thorne looked taken aback himself. If Mrs. Thorne could be moved to be more amiable, perhaps miracles could happen. Maybe the shop would be saved.
She was at home in bed later that evening before Charlotte remembered the large man lurking near the door of Thorne’s when she and her friends arrived at the library. He had disappeared by the time they exited the building to return home, and she sincerely hoped she would not see him again at Thorne’s.
Chapter Eleven
Sunday morning saw Ashford walking to the park with Chloe again. Or rather, he was being dragged to the park by the dog and her leash.
“Slow down, Chloe. I’m scarcely awake, girl,” he said with a yawn.
Today he wore cream trousers and a green double-breasted wool coat. His valet had completed his employer’s toilette with a white linen shirt and elaborately tied neckcloth.
Instead of a stick for Chloe to chase, Ashford had tied some old stockings into a bundle. He hoped the makeshift toy would liven up the dog’s playtime.
The air held a chill and the sky was full of clouds that he expected would burn off later in the day. The only sounds in the park were the results of Chloe’s play.
Along with the scent of fresh-cut grass, Ashford imagined he could smell Tuberose perfume. No matter where he went, it seemed thoughts of Lady Charlotte followed him.
“Good morning, Lord Ashford.”
He recognized the soft, husky voice and turned to see Lady Charlotte and her friend Louisa standing nearby.
“Lady Charlotte, Lady Louisa, it is a pleasure to see you both again.” The rush of feeling he experienced at seeing Charlotte no longer took him by surprise. He couldn’t help himself. Not only was he attracted to the woman, but he also liked her.
Charlotte’s cheeks were stained pink by the cool air, adding to the vibrancy of her appearance. She wore thick tan gloves and matching pelisse over a green sprigged muslin gown.
“How lovely to see you, Lord Ashford.” Lady Charlotte looked briefly at her friend. “When Louisa dragged me outside so early today, I didn’t expect to see anyone else in the park.”
“Do you live nearby?” he asked, curious.
She shook her head. “I’m merely visiting Louisa. Her family lives on the other side of the square.”
“I didn’t realize we were neighbors,” he said to Lady Louisa with a brief smile.
“It is rare for me to come to our private park,” the young woman replied smoothly. “I merely wanted some privacy. Living with four brothers can be overwhelming at times.”
“Who is this?” Charlotte asked as she reached down and patted Chloe, who had bounded forward with her new toy in her mouth. “What a lovely dog.”
“And a demanding one,” he replied with a chuckle. “Her name is Chloe. I found her all alone as a puppy in Portugal.”
As Chloe dropped her toy on the ground, Charlotte crouched down and rubbed one of the dog’s ears with her gloved hand. “Poor dear. Now you have a good home, don’t you? I’m sure you are very spoiled.”
The lady looked up at him and smiled. It was as if the sun had come out just for him. Speechless, he couldn’t help but smile back. Good heavens, he felt as green as a schoolboy.
* * * * *
Charlotte was happy to interact with the little Maltese. She’d never owned a pet, as her mother sneezed when anything with fur came into the house. She crouched low to pet the dog and converse with her. When Charlotte glanced up and smiled, Lord Ashford looked quite caught for words.
“Are you all right, my lord?” she asked, concern in her voice as she rose to her feet.
Lord Ashford visibly shook himself. “Just wool-gathering.”
Louisa wandered off to walk the perimeter of the oval park, still close by but affording Charlotte and the marquess some solitude in which to speak.
The gentleman picked up the bundle of stockings at his feet and threw it. Chloe raced away to retrieve the toy as Charlotte breathed in the delicious scent of the marquess’s cologne. The man was freshly shaven, and she wondered what it would feel like to run her hand along his strong jaw. The thought of touching the marquess sent a tremor of awareness down her spine.
Their plan to meet Lord Ashford by chance had worked. She must get her emotions under control and gather the nerve to speak to the marquess about William’s pranks at Eton. The subject could hardly injure her as the man already had a low enough opinion of her.
