Page 8 of Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library
The lady was so effusive in her praise that Charlotte began to wonder if Villiers had an opponent vying for his place as her champion.
She shook herself out of her reverie. She was at the ball to help save Thorne’s. Charlotte sighed loudly and stared morosely at the floor. She let her mouth droop.
“Whatever is wrong, my dear?” Lady Cairs asked in a high voice, her tone one of concern. “You do not appear to be your usual vibrant self.”
She looked up and waved a languid hand. “A mere trifle, Lady Cairs. I should not wish to bother you with such a small worry.”
The older woman’s eyes widened. She looked positively delighted at the possibility of assisting Charlotte with a problem. Lady Cairs put out her hand and took one of Charlotte’s to gently pull her as close to her enormous, purple-covered bosom as she could. Charlotte found herself enveloped by not only the lady’s cleavage but her perfume as well.
“Tell me all about it, dear child. Perhaps I can be of assistance.” Thankfully for her nasal passages, the matron quickly released her hold on Charlotte.
“You will think I am such a silly girl,” she said haltingly, giving another theatrical sigh. “There is a lovely shop my friends and I visit every week. It is my favorite place in all of London and it may have to close.”
She sniffed and bit her lip. From the corner of her eye, she could see her mother put her hand over her mouth as if to stifle a grin or laugh.
Lady Cairs still had Charlotte’s hand in her own. She squeezed it briefly. “I understand. When you find an exemplary shop- I do understand, my dear. Are they good to you there?”
She nodded vigorously. “Oh yes. Mr. and Mrs. Thorne treat us like their own daughters. They order the books we love and ask for our opinions on what periodicals to stock.”
“Are you speaking of a lending library?” the dowager asked, dropping Charlotte’s hand. Her voice and accompanying frown revealed disappointment that the shop under discussion was a library.
“Thorne’s also carries sundries, letter writing supplies, and so much more.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what my friends and I will do if we can no longer pass the time there. The library is near Gunter’s and not too far from Hyde Park. Thorne’s really is in the perfect location.”
Lady Cairs looked as if she didn’t know how to respond.
“Do you frequent the lending library often, Lady Faversham?” their hostess finally asked Charlotte’s mother.
Her mother started. A moment later, she recovered and replied, “I have been in the shop once or twice. I observed so many young people there I felt perhaps a more youthful patron would enjoy the library more than I.”
“Many young unmarried people were there?” Lady Cairs asked with a hopeful smile.
“Oh yes,” her mother replied with a nod. “I wonder I haven’t sent my William to Thorne’s to find a bride.”
Charlotte nearly choked at her mother’s statement. She bit her lip to hold back a giggle. She was supposed to look forlorn, after all.
“How fascinating. Come, come, Lady Charlotte. Do cheer up. I am sure this Thorne’s establishment will soon have quite a few new patrons.” Their hostess tapped the side of her nose with a finger. “I may be able to help you a little bit with that.”
“Thank you for talking with me, Lady Cairs.” She gave the woman a weak smile. “You have made me feel so much better.”
“I think your brother is waving to us, Charlotte,” her mother said and excused them from their hostess.
Charlotte followed her mother around a party of young ladies on one side of the ballroom. Ladies she barely knew despite seeing them at every social gathering of the season. She wasn’t comfortable around most of the other debutantes as all they talked about was their marriage prospects or about which male peers were the most eligible. Charlotte preferred the subject of books to men.
William stood on the other side of the group of debs, waving to her.
“I commandeered a spot on this chaise for you, mother,” her brother said when they’d made their way to his side. He gestured to a familiar woman seated on the piece of furniture. “Lady Chartham can keep you company.”
Lady Chartham was Louisa’s mother. The lady had attended finishing school with Charlotte's mother years ago. Although Louisa had told Charlotte her mother would be at the ball, she hadn’t quite believed it. Lady Chartham had rarely chaperoned Louisa this season, leaving the duty to Charlotte’s mother.
Her mother settled, Charlotte looked about for Edith and Louisa.
“Your friends are in the corner, just there,” William whispered with a jerk of his head.
“Would you like to say a few words to them?”
“No, thank you,” he replied as his cheeks turned red. “I see an acquaintance I would speak with. Do you mind if I leave you?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Not at all, William. I will look for a dance later in the evening.”
