Page 1 of The Tenacious Lady Blackmore

Chapter One

Late August, 1807

London

Lady Charlotte Blackmore had not been this nervous since she’d powdered her hair pink for her first ball. That had been nearly thirty years ago. One would think, at her age, she would have outgrown the tingling anticipation, the lightheaded hope.

It was all Seth’s fault. If he hadn’t left London for a time, if he hadn’t refused to send word of whether he would be here tonight, she wouldn’t be so beside herself.

Charlotte turned about the grand ballroom at Blackmore House, her London residence. In only a few hours, this space would be filled with nearly all thehaut tonof England. At least, those individuals who were still in London. Summer was quickly swelling from hot to smothering, and most of society had fled to the country for relief. Charlotte hadn’t, though, for if she left London, she wouldn’t be able to continue her work at The Asylum for Orphaned Girls. Just the thought of leaving the nearly two-hundred girls cared for there sent a sharp pain radiating through her.

She could never stop helping those girls.

More still, if she left, she wouldn’t have an excuse to see Seth again.

For now, though, the room was made alive by nearly a dozen servants bustling to and fro. The last of the flower arrangements was being placed, the food was being laid out, and the last edges of the floor were being chalked to prevent dancers from slipping.

With a smile and a complimentary comment to her housekeeper, Charlotte slipped from the ballroom and made for upstairs. Knowing all was in order for tonight, it was time she readied herself.

Only a few steps up the staircase, a footman hurried over to her.

“Pardon me, my lady,” he said, extending a silver tray with a cream-colored letter atop it. “This just came for you.”

“Thank you, John,” Charlotte said, picking up the letter. The writing on it was familiar. It was from Mrs. Lewis, the woman hired by the asylum, charged with watching over the girls during their various school and work activities.

“The messenger who brought it is waiting for a response,” John continued. “Should I send him away?”

“No,” Charlotte said. “Have Cook give him a little something to eat. I’ll have a response ready in a quarter of an hour.”

“Yes, my lady,” John said with a bow, then turned and moved off quickly toward the back of the house.

Charlotte’s lips pulled to one side.

That Mrs. Lewis was writing her at all was unusual. That she needed an immediate reply could only mean that this letter did not hold good news. Charlotte had delayed getting ready for her ball longer than she ought. Mary, Charlotte’s lady’s maid, would be quite put out to learn her mistress planned on delaying a quarter of an hour more. But only until she learned the reason.

Mary herself had been raised at the asylum, so she would understand how important it was that Charlotte respond immediately.

Once seated at her writing table in the sitting room which adjoined her bedchamber, Charlotte quickly opened the letter.

Lady Blackmore,

Please forgive my intrusion on your day, only the strangest thing has just happened here at the asylum, and I am at a loss as to what to make of it.

Only now, a former girl of ours has come for a visit. Her name is Emma Tilbury, and she was first brought to us, along with her infant sister, many years ago. Earlier this year, Emma showed herself to have all the qualifications necessary during her exit exam to find employment and leave us. She found work in a London home, but, strange enough, was sent back to us only a few months later.

The committee worked to find her a new place as quickly as possible, and she has been working for Lord and Lady Baxter for a time now.

Yesterday, she came by wanting to see Lord Windham. I could not imagine why she cared to see him—I did not even know the girl knew any of the committee members.

Emma asked him to help her find a new place to work; she was quite adamant that she couldn’t continue where she is at present. I did not hear any of Lord Windham’s reply, but it was clear Emma left more upset than when she’d arrived. I do believe the girl was crying when she walked back out the door.

It struck me as all very strange.

I hate to trouble your ladyship, but I do so worry for our girls. I’d like to think they all find happiness after they leave us, but I fear greatly that Emma has not.

I await your thoughts on the matter,

Mrs. Lewis

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