I let out the breath I had been holding. I was quite sure Charles could not convince George to marry me, and if he tried, what would George say? I cringed at the thought of the story that he had threatened to tell. I knew whose version Charles would believe, but what I didn’t know was what would happen to me. I held the puppy close and prayed that Harriet wouldn’t be punished for my trouble.
When I returned to the house with Belle, I found Harriet in the small family parlour. One look at her agitated pacing and I could tell she was in a mood. Perhaps it was better I not mention my conversation with Charles just yet.
“Why Charles thought a dog would please me, I have no notion.” She dabbed her cheeks with one of her elegant white lace handkerchiefs.
“Are you feeling all right?” I asked, reaching up to touch her forehead.
She pulled away from me. “I’m fine.”
I looked closely at her face. Not fine, I thought. Sallow skin, dark circles under her eyes.
“Are you sure? Do you need to go back to the doctor?”
“I’m seeing him tomorrow, but never mind about that now, Charlotte.”
“Has Charles said something?”
“He’s done something. He has invited that ridiculous widow, Mary Sledge, and her three children to supper. He just told me.”
“First the tea with her and now this. Hari, something’s going on. You have to tell me. I can help. Please.”
“I don’t know for sure, but I can guess,” she said, her voice weak. “I’ll bet it’s no coincidence that Charles’s uncle is the guest of honour tonight.”
“Charles wants Lord Ainsley to meet Mary?”
“It’s not about Mary; at least I don’t think so. It has to do with her children.” She said no more, as a housemaid came in to light the candles and fire. After a few moments, she spoke in her usual calm, authoritative voice. “Charles has asked that you be seated here in the family parlour to supervise Mrs. Sledge’s children. Since we have no governess, someone needs to keep an eye on them and help them with their meals.”
I didn’t understand why Charles had taken such an interest in these children, but this was not the time to ask in front of the maid. “Anything I can do to help.”
“Thank you. Now, I must change my gown.” In a flurry of lace and perfume, she was off. The maid followed her out, leaving me alone with Belle.
“What a mess. What are we going to do?” I asked the little pup. She didn’t answer, just looked at me with her big brown eyes and licked my cheek.
After I freshened up my gown, I went to the small dining room and studied the name cards on the table so I could greet my charges by their Christian names. A friendly gesture, I thought, and one that would help make the evening run smoothly. Positioned at the head of the little table was Master James. Master Donald’s chair was on James’s right, and Master Neal, clearly the youngest with an extra pillow on his seat, was on the left. The fourth spot—mine, I realized—was a dark corner beside the glass-panelled French door that led off the main dining room.
The boys soon came tumbling in, along with their mother.
“You must be Mrs. Sledge,” I said. We had not been formally introduced, so I was not sure of the proper etiquette. I cautiously offered my hand, and we briefly shook.
I took the opportunity to study her closely. She was small and dark haired with a flawless, milky complexion and an open expression on her face. Young to be a mother of three.
“And you must be Miss Harding,” she said with a slightly apologetic tone. “Charles, I mean Mr. Baldwin, told me you were good enough to offer to watch my children during dinner. I was happy to leave them at home with their nanny, but Cha—Mr. Baldwin insisted I bring them. He’s so terribly fond of them.”
Her earnest manner caught me off guard. Still, I wondered at the impropriety of her having had tea alone with Charles. “You’ve brought them here before, then?”
“Well, no, Mr. Baldwin has met them on other occasions.” She looked down at her children and kissed each of them on the forehead, admonishing them to be good little boys and eat their dinners. She turned back to me. “I’m sure your sister will become fond of my boys in time too.”
I didn’t have time to dwell on what she meant, as other guests began to arrive and she was drawn into the dining room. I surveyed the brood of boys with some misgivings. Master James, with dark curls like his mother, immediately assumed an air of authority, directing the other children to their seats.
“How are we to address you, madam, and when will dinner be served and what is for dinner?” he asked, all in one breath.
“You may address me as Miss Charlotte, and in answer to your other questions, I don’t know.”
They appeared slightly put out that I couldn’t provide the prized information regarding dinner. Little, fair-haired Neal decided to take me on.
“Why are we to call you Miss? Why aren’t you a Mrs., like Mama? Only little girls are called Miss, aren’t they? And you’re not a little girl, that’s for sure. How old are you anyway?”
“I’m a Miss because I’m not married, and it is not polite to ask a lady her age, Master Neal.”
“My mama isn’t married anymore because Papa died. He was much older than Mama. He was very old, and that’s why he died. Are you going to die soon?”
“For heaven’s sake, Neal. Don’t be such a dolt,” James said. “You can’t ask people that.”
“Why?”
“It’s rude.”
“Is not.”
With that,
