Page 58 of Love Lessons for a Lady

Oddly, the rage that Aston had thought he’d feel didn’t rise up. Yes, there was disgust, and a righteous sense of anger encompassed him. But this pathetic excuse for a human being wasn’t worth his hatred.

Shortly, Aston tucked the newly-penned authorization into his pocket. “A man with your power and wealth could’ve made a difference in this world, Grandfather. Instead, you’ve wasted your life manipulating and scheming.”

The old man didn’t answer, but curled his mouth into a belligerent snarl. No remorse or regret shone in his eyes either.

“If I inherit, and I pray I do not, but if I do, I intend to use the title to benefit others in any way I can.” Aston pulled his cuffs down and marched to the door. “Now, I’m going to ask the most remarkable, intelligent, kind woman I know to be my wife.”

I am to accompany Lord and Lady Ceddes and their children to a country house party. Always before, they’ve left their offspring in my care as they gallivant about. I can only think this is their last hurrah before sending the children away to school next month. They haven’t even done me the courtesy of providing me notice of my employment termination or mentioned writing me a recommendation. I intend to promptly rectify those oversights. Perhaps at the house party when they are in a reasonable frame of mind.

I have no notion what goes on at these types of gatherings, but as I’ll be supervising my charges, I needn’t worry overly much. I shall miss Pomeroy, Merrilee, and Amaris. These past eight years have been a challenge, to be sure, but I love the children. Change is never easy, but I look forward to my next position, wherever that may be. Perhaps I shall apply to Balderbrook’s Institution for Genteel Ladies after all.

~ Miss Purity Mayfield in a hasty letter to Miss Chasity Noble.

Mrs. Longsdon’s Lodging House

25 August 1818 - early evening

For the umpteenth time, Chasity glanced out the window. The day had dragged by with interminable slowness. Even walking Roi twice and writing several letters hadn’t made the time pass more swiftly.

She’d eaten a tasty luncheon of shepherd’s pie in the dining room. Only Mrs. Longsdon, spinster sisters Hilda and Joan Smithersfort, and a retired and widowed cleric, Wallace Appleyard, had also been present.

Chasity had endured a polite interrogation by the other three lodgers. She’d kept her answers brief and vague. She’d been raised in a foundling home. She was a teacher between positions at present. She was grateful to have found such pleasant lodgings.

When it became apparent she wasn’t divulging any deep secrets or sharing gossip, they left her to herself. Except for Mrs. Longsdon’s penetrating looks, that was. That woman was too astute by far.

Wandering to the salon’s window again, Chasity gazed past the heavy draperies. Still no Aston. He wasn’t precisely tardy. After all, he hadn’t explicitly said when he’d return.

Across the room, the Smithersfort sisters dozed in adjacent armchairs, each with a cat asleep on her lap. Their sonorous snores competing for dominance made it impossible to read anyway.

The elderly ladies had lived at the lodging house since being put out of their home by their nephew five years ago. Despite his aged aunts having lived there for three decades, after inheriting the house from his father, he’d decided to sell the place.

The world was full of evil and selfish people.

True, but there were also decent, honest, and kind people. People like Aston, Mrs. Shepherd, and Mrs. Longsdon. Aston had told Chasity how the landlady had taken him when he’d had no means to pay her.

Chasity had taken extra care with her appearance. She’d changed into her forest green gown and styled her hair in a new fashion, leaving a few curls to frame her face. She even wore the silver cross Mrs. Shepherd had given her.

The book of poetry she’d been trying to read lay face down on the settee where Aston had so thoroughly kissed her this morning.

She touched her fingertips to her mouth.

Had it really only been this morning?

He hadn’t exactly asked her to marry him, but surely he’d alluded to it.

A trip to Italy.

He had a position to offer her.

He loved her.

A horrific thought speared Chasity, and she clenched the curtain fabric. Her breath stalled as her palms turned clammy. Surely, he didn’t mean to ask her to be his mistress.

No. She shook her head. Absolutely not. A man of Aston’s character would not insult her so. She dismissed the idea as quickly as the nasty thing had intruded.

A moment later, Mrs. Longsdon bustled into the salon. “Dinner will be served soon.”

Was it nearly seven already?