The School of Charm: Books 1-5 Read online

  Tillman! Of course, now the fictitious surname came to her—too little too late. “I, uh…that is, you see…” She found herself babbling incoherently as she scrambled to think of an explanation, something to excuse her fainting and a reason for why she was acting like an addle-brained ninny—but she was cut short when he reached for her hand.

  She couldn’t breathe let alone speak as he held her bare hand in his, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Then again, maybe for a doctor it was.

  His brow furrowed in concentration as he studied her palm and then her fingers, his own hand sliding over hers as if he were studying some new specimen. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest at the gentle touch that belied his intense scrutiny.

  “What are you—” Her protest was cut short when his eyes shot up to meet hers.

  She gasped at what she saw there. Gone was the warmth, the tenderness. Instead those dark eyes blazed with accusation. “You are not a servant.”

  She blinked rapidly in surprise before understanding dawned. Her hands were soft and creamy white—the hands of a lady, minus the newfound burns and scratches that were a brilliant red against her pale skin. She jerked her hand out of his grasp, scrambling to sit upright despite the sick feeling that weighed on her.

  He did not try to stop her, but his fierce gaze followed her every movement as she scrambled backwards. “Who are you?” he asked.

  She glared at him. Anger was so much nicer than fear. Or worry. Or panic. She clung to that anger stubbornly. “I already told you, sir—”

  “Ah yes,” he said, his voice a sarcastic drawl. “Miss Addie Adelaide, how could I forget?”

  She clamped her mouth shut and settled for the cold stare that her guardian had been so fond of employing with the servants.

  To her annoyance, the stare only seemed to amuse him further. He was outright smirking at her, the irksome man. What sort of doctor smirked at his patient like that?

  The thought had her looking around for Mrs. Harper. Surely she’d be back soon, and Addie could make her escape. Or the doctor would tell the housekeeper of his suspicions and…oh dear, what then? Panic struck her like a blow to the head. Her breathing grew shallow as she fought against this dreadful drowning sensation.

  It ought to feel familiar by now, but it didn’t. Panic and fear were just as overwhelming and crippling now as they were three weeks ago when she’d snatched Reggie from the nursery and run away from home.

  “Be easy, child.” The doctor’s voice was once more low, gentle, and kind. “No one will hurt you here. I only mean to help.”

  Help. Ha! No one could help her, and certainly not this man.

  “I am not a child,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

  Which wasn’t all that much, really, considering she was being strangled by a fit of fear.

  Fear that she’d have to flee again, that she’d be forced to start all over again, and this time with even less options because she could not ask her second-cousin Emmaline to lie and give her a false reference again.

  Once had already been too great a favor.

  Besides, she could not risk showing up at her cousin’s house and being recognized by Emmaline’s parents. They would have questions. Too many questions.

  Worse, they might try to send her and Reggie back to Duncan, her father’s cousin and their legal guardian.

  It was something of a miracle that no one yet knew she and Reggie were gone. At least, she assumed she would have seen her name in the newspaper by now if Duncan wanted it known that she’d gone missing. But she’d seen no news of her and Reggie’s disappearance and had heard no gossip about a runaway lady and her infant brother.

  When she was feeling optimistic, she liked to believe that maybe Duncan was happy to let them be. Without Reggie in the picture, he could have it all. The money, the title, the land. That was what he wanted, after all.

  But then again—so long as Reggie lived, he posed a threat to Duncan’s selfish desires.

  Addie swallowed thickly now, trying to beat the fear back into submission. It was pointless to sit here and wonder what Duncan might say or do. The man was unhinged. Bizarrely kind one moment and then overset by rage the next… It was useless to try and predict his next move.

  As long as he stayed silent about her disappearance, she’d choose to believe that Duncan had let them go without a fuss. For, if he spoke up about them leaving, he would have questions to answer, wouldn’t he? And there was no way he could wish the truth to be known.

  After all, Duncan could not want it to be known that he’d scared her off by threatening to kill her baby brother, now would he?

  No. Certainly not.

  She took a deep calming breath, ignoring the curious stare that was fixed on her.

  It was best to focus on the most obvious conclusion. Duncan would wish to declare them deceased as quickly as he could and thank his lucky stars that he’d managed to get rid of Reggie—the rightful heir to whom the estate was entailed—out of the picture with little muss or fuss.

  “I could help you, you know.” His voice was so close she started. He’d shifted so he was leaning over her, holding out a hand as if to help her to her feet. Something about the gesture—so civil and kind. So thoughtful and so unexpected…

  She eyed it warily, and then, for the first time in a long time…she lost the battle with tears.

  It happened so quickly she stunned herself with the sudden waterworks. She must have stunned him as well, but it was difficult to say, what with all the tears clouding her vision. She sniffled wildly and swiped at her eyes, hoping to end this horrific outburst.

  She never cried.

  And certainly not over strange handsome doctors who offer their assistance.

  She felt a handkerchief being pressed into her hand and hiccupped a thank you.

  It was just that it had been so long since someone had been on her side, since someone had offered her help or spoken to her so gently.

  Like she was someone to be cherished and heard and…and believed.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  A warm, strong hand cupped her cheek, and with a touch so gentle it nearly made her cry all over again, he wiped away the last of her tears. “You are not a servant,” he said again, this time not as an accusation but as a statement of fact.

  She shook her head. No. She wasn’t. Or…she hadn’t been until recently, which she supposed was what he’d meant.

  “Did you run away, or were you turned out?” Again with the quiet question, like he was the only other person in the world and no one else existed and like her answer did not change things.

  “I ran.” Oh, how she hated this wobbly, thin voice. Her jaw worked as she tried to subdue another wave of tears. She tilted her chin up so she was facing him head on. “Please don’t tell Mrs. Harper.”

  It was a plea. She was begging, there was no doubt about it. But what did she care? She had little pride to cling to, and whatever was left was worth tossing away if it meant she could keep providing for Reggie’s care.

  He was eyeing her oddly. “You do not wish for Mrs. Harper to know?”

  She shook her head. “She’ll tell Lord Tolston, and they will toss me out and—” She reached for his hands without thinking. Gripping them with all her might, she was distantly aware of what a scene she must be making, now on her knees as he hovered over her. “Please do not tell. I promise you I meant no harm and I will learn to be a good servant, and—”

  “Ah, here we are!” Mrs. Harper’s voice carried up to them from the flight of stairs below. “My apologies for the delay, but the doctor arrived while I was fetching some bread.”

  The words took a moment to register, and as they did, she maintained eye contact with the gentleman with the warm dark eyes and the low kind voice.

  “Looks like I arrived in the nick of time.” A jovial male voice followed Mrs. Harper up the staircase. “Where is my patient?”

  The doctor
.

  Addie blinked up at this gentleman whose expression was now entirely unreadable. But if that man coming up the stairs was the doctor, then who—

  “Addie will be in good hands now, my lord,” Mrs. Harper said briskly as she joined them on the landing. “You just leave her to us.”

  My lord.

  She’d called him my lord.

  Her breath caught in her throat, and the sound that came out of her mouth could only be described as a squeak of alarm.

  She had just revealed her secret to the Earl of Tolston.

  Her employer.

  Her heart plummeted as she let Mrs. Harper help her to her feet.

  It was over. Her one chance to start over, and now she was back where she was in the beginning.

  On the run.

  Chapter Two

  Of all the ways Alec Finley, The Earl of Tolston, had imagined his homecoming to London, finding a lady splayed out on the floor unconscious in his house had not been one of them.

  “Is it not too early for a drink?” Alec’s cousin Gregory was sprawled out on a leather chair in the corner of his study, watching Alec pour the amber liquid into a glass. Gregory’s injured leg was propped up in front of him on an ottoman.

  “Do you need me to bring the doctor in here for that?” Alec asked, gesturing toward the leg.

  Gregory waved him aside. “My sprained ankle is nothing compared to a lady in distress.”

  Alec frowned down into his drink. A lady. That was exactly what Miss Addie Adelaide was. She was gently bred, that much was certain. He’d suspected something was different about her from the start. From the moment she’d opened her eyes and met his gaze head-on, not differing or wavering or dipping her chin out of courtesy.

  Then she’d spoken in that enchanting voice of hers, and he’d heard it. The soft round vowels, the perfect elocution. It was the voice of a well-bred young lady, not a scullery maid.

  It was her hands that had confirmed it for him. No one who worked for a living had hands so soft and pale. Her hands had been untouched up until very recently, he’d have bet his life on it.

  So, what was a gently bred lady doing working as a maid in his London home?

  “Ah, there’s my patient.” The portly doctor entered with a grin as he took in the sight of Gregory. “Heard you got thrown off a horse.” He arched his brows. “And here I thought you were a good horseman.”

  Gregory winced. “I am a good horseman. Just…not in the middle of the night after a few rounds at the pub.”

  Alec gave his younger cousin a wan smile. “I told you we should have ridden straight through on that last leg of the journey.”

  “Yes, yes, you’re very wise.” Gregory’s sarcasm was lost on no one. Alec didn’t mind since sarcasm was one of the few things he had in common with his smiling, optimistic cousin.

  The purpose of Gregory’s stay was to find himself a bride. To imagine, Gregory was actually looking forward to settling down with a wife and children.

  Alec intended choose a wife, as well, but he didn’t pretend to be happy about it. There was no denying the fact that time was passing him by, however. He was not getting any younger, and he knew his duties well. Unlike some of his friends, he’d never thought to shirk his obligations to his title, only…put them off for a while.

  But this was the season when he finally paid the piper and set aside his bachelor ways. Make no doubt about it. He would choose a wife.

  He threw back the contents of his glass in one large gulp.

  He’d do it. But he wouldn’t be happy about it. It was just one more duty to add to the list of obligations that consumed his life. Not that he was complaining. He had a good life, he knew that he did. If he were a bit cynical, there was reason for it. He supposed that was the downside of having the world at one’s fingertips. When one experienced every pleasure and still did not know true happiness, some pessimism was to be expected.

  But he knew that he was a lucky man—and moments like the one he’d just had were a startlingly clear reminder of his good fortune.

  He set the glass down with a thud at the memory of that look in her eyes.

  Panic, plain and simple.

  But why? And more importantly, why did he have this overwhelming urge to come to her aid?

  Never in his life had he suffered from a knight-in-shining-armor complex. He’d had friends who’d fallen into that trap. Fools, every one of them. But never him. He understood he had an obligation to those less fortunate, but there were charities for that sort of thing.

  He supposed, now that he thought about it, he’d never before been faced with a damsel in distress.

  The voices of Gregory and the doctor were a vague background noise as he pondered that. He’d never had to come to anyone’s aid before, not really. His friends were just as fortunate as he, if not more so, and he had little family left to speak of, aside from Gregory.

  Even so, the surge of protectiveness—possibly even possessiveness— when he’d seen her fear…It had been disturbing, to say the least.

  One thing was clear. The girl needed help.

  But more than that, he needed her out of this house as soon as possible.

  When the doctor was heading out, Alec called to him. “Send Mrs. Harper in, would you?”

  “Of course.”

  A moment later she was there—his tried and true housekeeper who’d been with him for more years than he could count. “Did she have a reference?”

  He no longer bothered with niceties with Mrs. Harper. He had no inclination toward subtlety, and Mrs. Harper had no time for idle chatter. The woman was forever on the move.

  She straightened with a sniff. “Of course, my lord. Miss Tillman had a glowing reference from one of the young ladies of Lord Havershams’ household.”

  He exchanged a look with the ever-curious Gregory. The Havershams were a good family, from what he knew of them. Decent people in good standing. Surely not the type to lie to his housekeeper. What was more—they were not the sort one accused of lying to one’s housekeeper.

  Mrs. Harper folded her hands in front of her. “My lord, if Miss Tillman has offended you in any way—”

  “No, no, of course not,” he said. “I am merely concerned, that is all. No member of my staff should be fainting on the staircase due to lack of food or sleep.”

  She dipped her chin with a huff. “I can assure you, sir, that is not the case. Everyone receives the same allotment of food and an adequate amount of time for sleep—”

  He held up a hand to stop her. “I have no doubt that you take excellent care of my staff, Mrs. Harper. But you must admit that what happened today was unusual.”

  She pressed her lips together in response like she was irritated by the whole matter. He could not blame her; he was irritated as well.

  One hour in London and he was already dealing with issues within his own household.

  Less than a day, and he’d somehow found himself ensnared in some other family’s drama.

  He hated how much his curiosity ate at him, how badly he wanted to learn the young lady’s secrets, but above and beyond all that, he knew he had to find a solution. And quick.

  If she were indeed a ruined lady hiding in his household, that could only lead to gossip and speculation if it were discovered. It wasn’t his own reputation he cared about, but hers. What she was doing living here in an unwed gentleman’s home with no chaperone?

  There was no going back from this.

  He might not understand what had scared the girl, but he knew better than to allow an unwed gently bred young lady to reside within his home. If she changed her mind and wanted back into society, or if her family came looking for her…his home was the last place she ought to be found.

  He had a startlingly vivid mental image of her face tipped up toward his, of the way she felt in his arms, of the delectable pink lips that had looked so sweet and yet revealed so little. The wide-set, innocent eyes that seemed to beg him for help.

  His hea
rt did an odd maneuver in his chest.

  No, Miss Tillman—if that was indeed her real name—could only cause trouble in his household. For herself, for his staff…and for his own peace of mind.

  “I’d like a word with her,” he said.

  Gregory interjected. “Oh Alec, leave the poor girl alone. She’s likely already embarrassed enough, what with assuming you to be the doctor.” He laughed at the mere idea, and Alec had to hide a wince as Mrs. Harper’s eyes widened in horror.

  “She took you to be…” She clapped her hands together in distress. “Oh, dear heavens.”

  “It’s quite all right, Mrs. Harper.” He shot Gregory a chastening look that he hoped clearly expressed the sentiment, ‘I told you that in confidence, you ungrateful cur.’

  Gregory’s smile never faded. He’d found the misunderstanding humorous in the extreme, whereas Alec merely found it…charming.

  No, not charming. He’d pitied the girl once she realized her mistake.

  To be fair, he had not realized her assumption until it was too late to set her straight. And when he had realized her mistake, he’d been…

  Well, he wasn’t sure what it was he’d felt. Amusement, perhaps. But it was something more than that. It had delighted him in a way few things had, the fact that she was speaking to him as though they were in on a secret.

  As though he were a trusted friend or an intimate acquaintance.

  “I will have a word with her,” Mrs. Harper said, sounding as frazzled as she looked.

  “No, no, I will do it,” he said.

  Both Mrs. Harper and Gregory wore similar expressions of wariness. He had to stifle an exasperated sigh. He was well aware that he had a reputation for being somewhat standoffish. Cold, even. But he’d never been cruel, particularly not with any members of his staff.

  “You can both calm down,” he said. “I have no intention of harming the girl or tossing her out on the streets. I merely wish to discover what it is that is troubling her.”

  And fix it.

  He kept that last part to himself because he was certain it would surprise them as much as it did him. He wanted to solve whatever problem was going on in her life. But first he needed to get her out of his home and take her…where, exactly?