Taming Chiron: The Haberdashers, #5

By Sue London

An unlikely couple is paired at a summer house party. Their budding friendship is cut short by a horrid accident. Will they be able to find love through tragedy?

Charlie Bittlesworth is invited to a summer idyll and hopes to use the time to sell some of his premium livestock. He thinks it a small matter to pay some kind attention to the cousin of his hostess, but the damndest things come out of his mouth when he is around the woman.

Charlotte Ayres has been cloistered in her father's academic circles at Cambridge all of her life. She feels out of her element at her cousin's estate, but has never met a man quite like the one she is paired her with for her stay. Could she have an unexpected life with this handsome stranger?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sue London
• Release date: Dec 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781393675679

Book preview

Chapter One

July 1817, London

Charlie Bittlesworth read through the invitation with a sinking feeling. The pleading tone was subtle but unmistakable. However much he might adore Lolly Higgenbottom, now wasn't a good time for him to take to the country for over a fortnight for an estate party. And he wasn't fool enough to think that Lolly was inviting him because she was interested in him. No, he might be entertaining to flirt with, a good friend, but the second son of a perfectly healthy and vigorous man with a perfectly healthy and vigorous first son held hardly any attraction for the beauty. Charlie knew what he was, what he was good at. And second only to his talent with horses, Charlie Bittlesworth was excellent at rounding out numbers. Dinner parties, garden parties, and, of course, country parties, where having the right good-natured and entertaining guest could be a feather in the hostesses cap.

Why so glum, your lordship?

I'm not a lord, Charlie reminded the lad, and it's nothing for you to worry about, Mouse. He ruffled the boy's hair, causing a mild protest and little fingers set to straightening the brown locks. Mouse was the latest of what his brother Robert would call Charlie's projects. Robert always injected the word with a mild disgust to make sure Charlie knew his older brother's disapproval. But in Charlie's estimation, when one encountered a good person in a place of misfortune, it behooved one to give that person an opportunity to improve themselves. Mouse had been just such a person. A street urchin who had somehow not let his misfortunes tarnish the good that was in his soul. An orphan who had no memory of family or even if he had a real name. He was just known as Mouse. The moniker fit, really. Quiet, tidy, and blessed with a cautious alertness that had served him well on the streets and even had its uses in a proper household. Provided Charlie would ever be able to set up a proper household. He'd spent a good bit of his savings paying off the ruffian who had insisted he owned Mouse. Provided a bit of dirty floor to sleep on and questionable protection for the benefit of Mouse's blunt from begging and odd work, more like. But that meant Charlie's goal of moving out of his bachelor quarters was set back by months, perhaps more than a year. He had no great desire to build a house, but his stables were complete and it made no sense to live so far from them. After years of begging, borrowing, and stealing stall and pasture space from friends and relatives, he had finally mustered the funds to buy land just outside London two years ago. The design and construction of his stables had taken a considerable amount of time and resources, but now all of his stock was making its way there to be housed in what Charlie liked to think was one of the best stables in England. 

Most of Charlie's projects found their way to his stables or positions in his friend's houses. He had not yet decided what to do with Mouse, as they were still less than a fortnight in acquaintance. Typically Charlie didn't like servants in his bachelor quarters, but Mouse had proven to be more help than bother. The boy might be well on his way to becoming a valet or butler. For now he was making himself useful by taking on all the tasks that Charlie would prefer not do himself. Not that he'd been assigning them to Mouse as such, more that the boy took them on. Boots were polished. Floors were swept. Coats were brushed. Given another few weeks and Mouse might even have Charlie looking reputable.

Do you know how to read? Charlie asked.

No, milord.

I'm not a lord. Would you like to learn?

The boy’s eyes rounded. Oh, could I?

Undoubtedly you could. I'll ask my friend Jack to tutor you. Charlie set down the invitation and nodded decisively. If someone read his invitations before he did, sending out polite regrets for items that did not suit his schedule, then he could avoid conflicts such as this. He wanted to say no, but already knew that he would say yes. By the by, Mouse, I have a dinner tonight. I'll be in late but will bring you something from the kitchens. It was a survival tactic of bachelors such as himself to attend dinners strategically throughout the week, to take any offered leftovers and other scraps from the kitchens. Now that he had another mouth to feed, it was doubly important.

Yes, milord.

I'm not a lord, Charlie said absently, already turning his mind to the sale at Tattersall's he planned to attend later in the day.

Mouse's response was so quiet and solemn that Charlie almost didn't hear him. What should I call you then?

Charlie frowned. Mr. Bittlesworth, or sir, or even Charlie if you like.

Mouse nodded gravely. I'll call you Mr. Bittlesworth, sir.

The address felt oddly formal to Charlie, but he merely nodded. Good enough, Mr. Mouse.

* * *

Charlotte Ayres bit her lip and looked at the pile of clothing on the bed, then at her trunk. It's not all going to fit, Tess.

Nonsense, Lottie, her little sister said, hopping up to sit on the bed.

Mathematics, Charlotte countered. A simple calculation of mass and volume.

If we sit on the lid...

Charlotte tilted her head, considering. Even then, we could not change the density enough.

Tess rolled her eyes. You are always so pedantic when you're nervous.

I'm not nervous.

Tess rolled her eyes again, a behavior that she had been exhibiting with alarming frequency of late. Charlotte didn't remember being so melodramatic when she was fourteen. With Tess things were always 'brilliant' or 'horrid' or some other superlative. Granted, it had been some years since Charlotte was that age, but she remembered it as being a rather peaceful time. Tess had been a bit of a hellion underfoot, only six at the time, but Charlotte had enjoyed new tutors and her first forays into the natural sciences. Tess had not, as yet, shown any particular intellectual interests. She did, however, excel at the use of thread and needle, which was why Charlotte had so many clothes to pack in the first place.

It will only be a fortnight, Charlotte said. I don't need nearly so many clothes.

"It is more than a fortnight, and of course you do. Cousin Lolly has given you this opportunity to find a husband and you must take it."

Now Charlotte found herself wanting to roll her eyes. "Cousin Lolly is not worried about whether I find a husband. She undoubtedly needs someone to even out the numbers and grew quite desperate."

Tess managed to look as skeptical as a woman thrice her age. "You can tell yourself that if you like. But it certainly wouldn't do to make her look poorly by not having the proper attire. You will be among ladies, Lottie. Do you know how often they change clothes?"

Charlotte despaired that Tess might tell her. Quite often, I assume.

Tess ran her fingers through the bits of lace and silk close at hand. Easily twice, often more times each day. I worry that you won't remember my advice on how to accessorize and make your dresses fresh enough to be worn again after a few days without notice.

Of course I'll remember, Charlotte assured her, knowing that it was untrue.

Tess scowled. I wish I could go with you.

Well, perhaps-

Tess held up her hand. No, I need to stay with father. We both know that left to his own devices he will forget to eat.

And where he put his glasses.

And what day it is.

The two girls laughed and shared rueful grins.

So, Tess said. I shall stay here and take care of father, and you shall go find a husband.

Now it was Charlotte's turn to frown. You know that I have an understanding with Professor Duggleby.

No, I know that Professor Duggleby expects to have an understanding with you. Has he asked for your hand?

Well, not as such.

Has he spoken to father about his plans?

Not that I know.

Lottie, you cannot rely on a man's ramblings for your future. Duggleby is as interested, more so I would argue, in your intellectual contributions to his work as he is in you.

There's nothing wrong with that.

Ah, Tess held up a finger. How did you feel when he published that paper last year that was not only based on your theory but documented your research as his own?

But if we were married, then it would be as though my research were his anyway.

"How did you feel?"

Charlotte bit her lip. She wasn't, in general, much for feelings. They were messy and chaotic. Rather than answer, she distracted her sister. Perhaps if I could borrow your satchel, we could make a go at this.

The look Tess gave her while sliding off the bed let Charlotte know that her sister was wise to her ways. I'll bring the satchel, and then we will have you packed in no time.

Once Tess left the room, Charlotte blew out a breath and looked at the pile of clothes again. She hated the idea of this house party, but Lolly was one of her few friends near her age. Prior to this they had only visited at family gatherings and corresponded through the post. Then this invitation arrived and even Charlotte detected the pleading tone of the note. Tess, of course, had been thrilled for Charlotte to finally have an occasion to wear the dresses that her sister had been adding to her wardrobe for the last few years. There were times when Charlotte merely felt like Tess's fashion doll. Most of these dresses had only ever been worn during fitting and adjustment. Well, at least she had something reasonable to wear while attending Lolly's entertainment.

Chapter Two

August 1817, Northamptonshire

Charlie arrived timely, as a good guest did, and had already been settled into his room. Not having been sure what to do with Mouse, he had opted to bring the boy with him. Introducing the, at best, ten-year-old to the staff as 'his man' had caused some mildly raised eyebrows, but s'truth was that Mouse filled that role as no one else had. And hopefully one day he would grow tall enough to reach shelves.

I have that, Charlie said, taking the stack of linens from Mouse. The boy was balanced precariously on a chair, one foot against the wall, but Charlie simply took the linens in one hand and steadied Mouse with the other.

You needn't, sir. It is mine to do for you.

Perhaps if we keep feeding you you'll be able to reach them.

Perhaps they can give me a taller chair.

Perhaps that, too. Have you any questions on how you're to get along here?

No, sir. I've a cot under the eaves and regular mealtimes.

Well, tell me if you have any problems. Working amongst a household staff can be like living in the streets, simply with better decor.

Aye, sir, I'll tell you.

Very well. I will go downstairs and circulate amongst the guests.

Charlie had seen this house party as, if nothing else, an opportunity to show off some of his horses. It was easy to imagine the men here growing bored while languishing in the country, so he brought two of the saddle horses he hoped to sell this season. And had used, of course, a carriage team that he was willing to part with for the right price. Some men assumed every horse had a price, but not to Charlie. His herd included those that were part of his plans, and others who were simply part of his family. But the ones with him on this trip were available for purchase to anyone who would provide the proper home.

Once downstairs he was ushered into a drawing room where his host Sir Higgenbottom, Lolly’s father, was entertaining the few young men who had already arrived. Charlie took his perfunctory glass of claret and mingled. He knew everyone, of course. The curse of his class was that it was so bloody easy to know everyone.

What few realized, since he hid it behind a charming smile and insouciance, was that he was just as inscrutable as his brother Robert. In his estimation, Robert made a mistake in his typical brooding persona, because although it was often difficult to know what he was thinking, it was clear that he was thinking. And that sort of behavior was only likely to make others uncomfortable. For if there was one thing that could perturb the wealthy and entitled, it was ideas. From what anyone could see, Charlie was positively not burdened with them.

Just now, he chatted about all the things that young bucks from London left alone would chat about. Horses, pugilism, hunting, and, when it didn’t seem Sir Higgenbottom was listening, actresses. It was why Charlie was known as a capital chap. A good sort. It was also the secret to his business success. Who didn’t want to transact business with a capital chap? And anyone who thought to take advantage of him due to his easy nature and apparent frivolity found that he wasn’t entirely what he seemed. He had excelled not only at maths in school, but also debate. He might not have his brother’s casual brilliance, but he had a perfectly sharp mind and inherent business sense. As he also had a talent for breeding and training, he was sure it was only a matter of time until he was the preeminent horse breeder in Town. But, the road to that meant quite a few more glasses of claret and nonsensical chats.

* * *

Charlotte waited for all the maids to stop fussing and leave her room before she collapsed on the bed. Mercy, but travel was murder! She couldn’t read for all the bumpiness of the carriage, and the seat had been uncomfortable and cramped, and she was quite sure that the stifling heat had made her perspire more than she had in her life. Even lying here, she could almost feel the blasted conveyance shaking her to bits. She needed a bath and, if the saints were merciful, some quiet time alone to read.

There was a knock at the door. She struggled up to stand and called, Who is it?

"It is you! A voice enthused. Are you dressed? May I come in?"

Charlotte deduced it was her cousin, even though she hadn’t seen Lolly in better than three years. Yes, come in, she said, moving towards the door to open it if the other girl didn’t. Lolly, however, was in one of her excitable moods and popped right through.

Oh, Lottie! she said immediately. You’ve grown even more!

Charlotte knew that her height was easily the most noticeable thing about her. While most girls could be compared to flowers, she was more like an oak tree. Refusing to feel any pain over it, she squared her shoulders and smiled. And you have grown even more beautiful.

Lolly smiled one of her charming smiles and came over for a hug. "We shall have such fun, she enthused. I’m so very glad you could make it."

I’m fairly certain that if I hadn’t agreed Tess would have bound me up and mailed me here.

How is Tess?

Still Tess. Oh, she sent something for you. Let me find it in my reticule.

While Charlotte dug in her bag, Lolly took a turn about the room. I hope this will be to your liking. I always favored the colors in here.

Charlotte hadn’t noticed the colors and took a moment to look around before handing the gift to Lolly. Yes, er, it’s quite nice. If by nice one meant insipid.

Lolly saw what Charlotte had in her hand and squealed. Oh! It’s a Mrs. Hedgie!

When Tess had learned, years before, that Lolly had an affection for hedgehogs, she had made Mr. Hedgie out of felt and scraps. He had an adorable little nose, dark little eyes, and looked to have been perfectly turned out by his tailor. Lolly had loved it. The palm-sized figure that Charlotte handed over now was to be his mate, and was every bit as well-dressed as her husband, with her lace and bonnet. Lolly nuzzled the gift and smiled.

How exhausting it must be, Charlotte thought, to be that happy all the time.

I shall have to let the two of them meet right now! Oh, dear cousin, do you need anything? Anything at all?

No, I shall be fine.

Lolly grabbed Charlotte’s hand one last time. We will have such fun. Such fun!

For her part, Charlotte was beginning to doubt it.

* * * 

Ask me to walk in the garden.

Charlie had taken a moment to stare out the window and was surprised by hearing Lolly’s sotto vocce request before she greeted him in her usual, enthusiastic way. Being the good guest that he was, he immediately begged her father’s permission to take her on a short stroll in the gardens just outside. If she had any reason for her request it wasn’t immediately apparent as she exclaimed over the roses. At the first turn in the path, however, she became more solemn.

Mr. Bittlesworth, I wonder if you might do me a great favor.

Ah, so here it was. I am your servant.

I think that I need to make one small change in my plans. I need, no, I beg for you to partner my cousin for our time here. She seemed genuinely upset.

As I had no idea who I might have partnered otherwise, I can have no complaint.

It’s just, the beauty looked on the edge of tears, "she grew again."

Grew? Charlie repeated, feeling a bit confused.

Yes, Lolly waved her hand in a frustrated up and down motion. Grew. I knew that Chilcoat would be the perfect partner for her, he’s such a studious type. But what man wants a woman towering over him? She looked up at him. She might even be taller than you, I don’t know. But you’re kind. You’ll be kind, won’t you, Charlie? Please? For me?

Her gaze was beseeching in the way that lovely young women learned how. Of course, he reassured her.

"Oh, I knew I could count on you! I knew it, I knew it! Even if this delays a bit my match for you, I just know that it will work out."

Your match for me? he asked apprehensively.

Of course, silly. Why do you think I invited you?

Charlie returned her to her father and wondered what he had just agreed to. If naught else, he had this cousin to thank for saving him from Lolly’s matchmaking.

In the drawing room before supper it was quickly apparent who her cousin was. Miss Charlotte Ayres. The girl was, indeed, taller than any woman of his acquaintance. Taller, even, than the countess Jacqueline Wolfe, a girl he had grown up with back in Derbyshire. With her pale hair and light-colored eyes, Miss Ayres put him in mind of a Nordic queen, or perhaps one of those Greek statues of a warrior goddess. Knowing his role, he bowed over her hand upon introduction and held out his arm to escort her into the dining room. Her greeting curtsy was precise and she took his arm with all the ceremony of a woman entering a palace. He would have thought her confident except that she had yet to raise her eyes above his cravat. His usual playful attempts at banter were met with mild smiles and brief, often one-word answers. Lolly had asked that he be kind. It was clear that his greatest kindness would be not to press the girl for too much conversation.

Chapter Three

Charlotte continued to stare at her plate. She was being particularly careful with her place setting, afraid that she might drop a fork or tip over her wine. If she had ever been as nervous as she was now, she couldn’t remember when that might have been. Risking another covert peek at her dinner partner, she immediately trained her eyes back to her plate. She had never met a more handsome man and he had been talking to her. She hadn’t known what to do. Obviously her inability to converse with him had convinced him to turn his charm elsewhere, as now that the meal was almost over he very rarely spoke to her. She had finally realized what she was even eating. Duck. She loved duck, but was only able to enjoy the last few morsels. Over dessert he asked her in his teasing tone if she preferred the cream or the fruit in her trifle. She had just been trying to decide which particular variety of blackberry had been used and mumbled that it was the fruit. She mumbled. Mumbled! It would be a miracle beyond ken if she made it through the evening without