Page 106 of Not his Marchioness
He’d suggested that help might serve them well in improving their circumstances.
Charlotte had shivered at the thought, concerned for her reputation, yet determined to wield her influence to improve lives. She and Evelyn had arranged for a discreet teacher to travel into St. Giles and conduct small classes in reading,writing, and mathematics—practical skills to provide a path toward independence.
It was careful work, and it had to remain mostly unseen, but Charlotte knew that even these small efforts could ripple outward into the community.
The morning was bright and crisp as she walked across the courtyard, her skirts swishing, and found Lady Woodhaven already there, perched on the stone bench beneath the old elm tree.
The older woman’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“Good heavens, Lady Ravenscar. Look at it all!” she exclaimed. “The gardens, the children arriving… it is magnificent. I dare say, one day we might even open a school in Whitechapel. The need is just as great there.”
Charlotte laughed, shaking her head. “Let us not get ahead of ourselves. One school at a time, Lady Woodhaven. It is enough work to ensure this one thrives.”
“Of course,” Lady Woodhaven said, smiling, though the glint of excitement remained. “And you may be indisposed for the foreseeable future.”
Charlotte’s hand instinctively went to her stomach. Lady Woodhaven’s sharp eyes caught the movement immediately.
“How did you know?”
“Ah,” Lady Woodhaven said, “I have a sense for these things. You have a certain glow about you. Does your husband know?”
Charlotte smiled, warmth spreading in her chest. “He does, and he is delighted.”
“I am glad for you both, and I dare say, you are both fortunate that Lord Emery has been dealt with before your happy arrival.”
Over the last three months, the truth had emerged. Emery’s campaign of deception had extended far beyond Charlotte. Anonymous letters, tricked gentlemen, a network of accomplices—the man had sought to control and manipulate, and his ambitions had been thwarted.
The barkeep at that tavern had been complicit in tracking wagers and movements of gentlemen, supplying Emery with a trove of information to be used against certain titled gentlemen. The man had been found out and dismissed, and he would soon stand trial.
Emery himself had been publicly disgraced. He would not answer for his crimes in court because, as a titled man, he enjoyed certain privileges.
That had driven Rhys mad with rage, but there was nothing to be done about it. At least the man had been so shamed that he had lost his business associates and standing among their peers.No one would confer with him at Parliament. No one would socialize with him.
He had been cast out.
And thus he had left England for Italy, hopefully never to be seen again. Margot’s father had written to some of the Italian counts, forewarning them of the man about to arrive on their land, hoping they would prevent him from scheming there.
“I am grateful he is gone from our lives. And I hope it is for good,” Charlotte muttered.
The sound of laughter interrupted her musings.
She turned to see her sisters, her aunt, and Nathaniel approaching, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. Evelyn, now heavily pregnant, moved with careful grace, leaning on Nathaniel’s arm.
Truthfully, she should not have been out and about in her condition, but she had insisted, even though it would most certainly be written about.
“Charlotte,” she beamed. “I see the children are already here.”
“Some, yes,” Charlotte replied, greeting her sister and the rest of the family.
“What a remarkable day,” Aunt Eugenia noted, looking around. “Your father asked after you.”
Charlotte’s nostrils flared.
“Auntie, she does not need to hear about him on this day,” Marianna chided.
“I know, but he wanted me to tell her good luck. That is all he wanted to say.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I suppose I will accept that.”
