Love in the Ballroom (Women of Worth Book 5) by Stockton Kasey

Author:Stockton, Kasey [Stockton, Kasey]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

22

Charlotte

Faint pounding throbbed the back of my head as I sat up in bed, waking after a long day of falling between sleep and alertness, fighting the desire to be awake with a need to rest.

But evening had drawn close and the light from the windows was fading as candles begged to be lit. Sitting up fully, I waited for the throbbing to subside enough to allow me to stand so I might ring for my maid.

The door opened and relief coursed through me, until I glanced up to find my aunt framed by the light in the corridor behind her.

“Charlotte,” she said crisply, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She looked dignified in an evening gown of violet satin under black tulle, a matching turban adorning her head. “It is dim in here.”

“Yes,” I agreed. I was about to ask her to pull the bell rope when she busied herself with the candles, lighting them one at a time before drawing the curtains closed. There was a chill in the room, and I shivered as the bedclothes fell low around my waist.

I propped a pillow behind my back and leaned against the headboard, watching Mrs. Wilkins. What could she want with me? And more to the point, why was she doing the work of a servant in my bedchamber when she all but hated me?

“You are well?” she asked, her voice clipped, hands clasped before her as she stationed herself at the foot of my bed.

I was thrown from my horse and hit my head against the cold, hard ground. I didn’t think I could rightfully claim to be well, exactly.

She seemed to sense my hesitancy. “Are you in need of anything?”

An explanation wouldn’t be amiss. Mrs. Wilkins’s hands clasped so tightly before her that her knuckles were turning white. Whatever reason had brought her to my chamber, it was clearly causing her trouble.

“I am hungry,” I said. “I was going to ring for dinner.”

She nodded, seemingly relieved to have a task. “Allow me.”

She moved toward the bell pull with awkward, stilted steps. Whatever her reason for being here, it clearly pained her. I didn’t want to cause her further distress, but I likewise would not allow an opportunity to move toward mending our relationship go unheeded.

“Was John very angry?” I asked, hoping to loosen her tongue with talk of her son like I had on the carriage ride to London.

She glanced at me from across the room, narrowing her eyes in a calculating measure. “Yes.”

“I cannot blame him. He did warn me against it, but I was stubborn.”

“Yes, you were.”

“In my defense, however, I could not have known that my horse would spook so easily. Tarquin never mentioned such behavior before.”

She stepped closer, pausing near the foot of my bed. “But did he bring the horse to London before gifting it to you?”

I lifted one shoulder. “I haven’t any idea. But I’ve learned my lesson, rest assured.”

Mrs. Wilkins grew thoughtful, her body still as her eyes became foggy.

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