Lady Charlotte: Ladies of Disgrace

Chapter One

Born Scandalous

The ability to contain one’s boredom had not been Lady Charlotte’s forte. A woman could only hide so many yawns behind a gloved hand. She blamed the repetitive score of the moaning cello as its player drew the bow slowly across the strings, back and forth. The longer she stared at the movement, she feared falling into a hypnotic state.

Convinced there had to be entertainment elsewhere in the room, her eyes roved over the attendees. Charlotte snickered and stifled a giggle because the audience appeared like dead stiffs in their chairs—posture perfect and rigid. The only movement came from Baroness Stockton, who fanned herself repeatedly as if she was having another episode that ladies complain about during midlife. The crimson-red blush on the back of her neck confirmed Charlotte’s suspicions.

To add to the comedic moment, the breeze from the baroness’s fan sent strands of the horsehair toupee worn by Lord Grafton dancing on his head. Charlotte pondered how funny it would be if it fell off his shiny bald spot and landed next to him in Lady Prudence’s lap. Undoubtedly that orchestrated movement would cause a stir among the social elite and wake them up from their stupor.

The seating arrangement held entertainment value as Sir Walton sat next to his plump wife, who could have taken up two chairs. Countess Eaton sat to his left, whom rumor had it was his latest mistress, unbeknown to his wife. Sir Walton had played a slightly dangerous game, sitting the two women so close to one another, and Charlotte inwardly congratulated him on his brazen display.

A few other unfamiliar heads exhibited a variety of hairstyles and colors. All the ladies wore their expensive, modest garments, except Charlotte, who had donned a vulgar, off-the-shoulder-style evening gown in brilliant red. The smartness and color were necessary to maintain her scandalous reputation, regardless of the prudish Victorians who filled the gallery.

Unable to control her yawns any longer, Charlotte released a noticeable, sleepy moan. A few heads turned in her direction, including Cedric’s, her elder cousin. He gave her a sharp jab with his elbow, which Charlotte found annoying.

What was that for? she loudly whispered as she shot him an irritated glare.

Behave yourself, he heatedly replied, breathing hot air into her ear.

Behave. The perplexing word did not reside in Charlotte’s vocabulary of the English language. No fun existed in behaving in a stuffy universe. She needed to toy with something or someone to find an ounce of joy in life. Suddenly it dawned on her that Cedric had hidden her in the back row for that reason—her inability to comply with the norms of prudent conduct. She rolled her eyes at his maneuver.

As far as Charlotte was concerned, there were many types of ladies in England. A few women were born with proper character and remained as such throughout their lives. Most were the boring type of submissive women who lacked initiative and spirit. Usually they were churchgoing, obedient, and polite ladies with no backbones in the presence of a male.

Other women possessed a weak character, which made them susceptible to seduction. As their just reward for ignorance, they usually ended up pregnant and thrown away by society.

Then there were women like Charlotte who were fallen the moment they came into this world. After all, didn’t the Bible say all are born in sin? She readily accepted her lack of scruples and could be as shrewd as any male. God had endowed her with exceptional beauty, which was her greatest asset in controlling the opposite sex. Also, her mother had married well into the aristocracy, being an intelligent female who pursued what she wanted. She passed onto Charlotte her knowledge of manipulation and remained forever grateful to have been born a fallen lady. It suited her personality to perfection.

The music came to a crescendo, and the composer’s score concluded. Even though Charlotte had studied the musical arts, she didn’t embrace classical music as a favorite pastime. The compositions of Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven bored her to death. A night at the casino would be far more entertaining, but Cedric had refused to give in to her desire to run wild, having plans up his sleeve.

Gloved hands from the audience clapped a muffled sound as the cellist bowed. Charlotte complied with the gesture as a polite reaction and leaned into Cedric.

Is that it, or are we going to be tortured with a performance from a screeching soprano?

He glanced at her in return with a peeved look in his eye. You know, I went to a lot of trouble getting you an invitation to this affair. The least you can do is attempt to be civil.

Oh fiddlesticks, she protested. I can be as civil as the next lady when I put my mind to it.

They got to their feet as other guests vacated their chairs and mingled with the crowd. A footman came toward them with a tray of fluted crystal glasses filled with champagne. It didn’t take long to pluck one like a ripe cherry and bring it to her lips. The bubbles from the freshly poured bottle tingled on her tongue. It tasted delightfully refreshing as it quenched her parched throat.

Go easy on the spirits, Cedric warned her as she drank from her glass.

Your tactics to reform me are ill-advised, cousin. I’m a lost cause, she teasingly replied.

What you need is a good man to put you in your place, he countered.

Oh really? she drawled with a raised brow. There isn’t a man on this earth who will ever put me in my place as you say it. Males are feeble creatures in my hands. Charlotte tugged her bodice, showing the rounding of her plump breasts.

Good Lord, woman, you are incorrigible. He eyed her endowed flesh.

I suppose I am. You know cousins do marry, Cedric, Charlotte replied. If you were not already attached to your wife, I could show you a thing or two given the opportunity.

His mouth gaped open at her suggestion, and Cedric let out a husky laugh. You think me daft enough to marry you of all people? You’ve already been through one husband who is cold in the grave. I won’t be your second.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, she scoffed. I purposely married the old man because I surmised he wouldn’t live long. Without heirs and desperately lonely, he was easy prey at father’s suggestion.

You wore Rutherford out more like it.

Can I help it if he couldn’t keep up with my youth and sexual expertise? That wrinkled codger was lucky to have me in his bed. Frankly, I was surprised he could perform at all, but once he saw my ample assets, he rose to the occasion. Charlotte took a sip of her drink.

Cedric leaned in toward Charlotte’s ear, speaking a private word. Now that you have his money, are you looking for someone younger, pray tell?

Being an heiress does help matters. Society loves money, you know, she said, batting her long eyelashes. Besides, I could use a younger man to share my bed. I do have needs and miss a good romp with a young stud who possesses the means to satisfy.

Good God, keep your voice down, Cedric growled. Can you please act a little more respectable while in public?

Charlotte chuckled mischievously. Oh calm down. Nobody heard me.

I heard you. My thoughts are poisoned with scandalous images.

Charlotte rubbed his forearm, giving Cedric a sexy wink. You love it, she cooed. Gulping the remainder of alcohol in her glass, she set the empty crystal on a nearby table. Now that you have me here at this dreadfully boring affair, will you not introduce me to somebody of interest?

She patiently waited as Cedric’s eyes scanned the room, taking far too long for her taste. As he hesitated, Charlotte thought he would forgo introducing her to anyone.

Follow me, he ordered. We might as well start with the host and hostess of this affair.

If you insist, she remarked. As they meandered through the crowded room, Charlotte took note of the eyes that followed her movements. Not caring what they thought, she demurely smiled as if she were an angel with wings, floating across the parquet wood floors. Cedric halted before a couple.

Lord and Lady Davenport, he said in greeting. May I introduce you to my cousin, Lady Rutherford?

When their eyes shifted in Charlotte’s direction, she smiled, showing her pearly white teeth, which were far straighter than most English ladies. She was about to open her mouth and speak when Lord Davenport’s eyes landed on her breasts. His bushy brows rose a half inch up his forehead, and a drooling grin spread across his face. Lady Davenport instantly noted her husband’s sexual appetite focused on Charlotte’s bosom.

Well, Roland, aren’t you going to greet the lady? She poked him in the arm.

He shook his head as if to shake off the disgraceful stare and opened his mouth. Pleasure... a pleasure to meet you, Lady Rutherford.

The pleasure is all mine, Charlotte answered in a sweet tone.

Your cousin tells me, Lady Davenport said, your husband passed away a mere six months ago. She eyed Charlotte’s red dress with a distinct distaste for the color while making her comment.

Yes, the poor dear had a heart attack, Charlotte replied. She lowered her voice for effect as she continued. I do appreciate your invitation this evening as it has given me the opportunity to rid myself of the doldrums over my widowed state.

Oh, I doubt you will have the doldrums for long, Lord Davenport responded with a smirk. You’re far too pretty to be wearing black the remainder of your life. His wife shot him an angry glare.

Well, as you can see, Lord Davenport, red is my chosen color for my skin tone. It brings out the best in me. Her eyes shifted over to Lady Davenport, who glared at her in disgust.

Well, I do appreciate your kind invitation to my cousin, Cedric interjected. She does need to get out more often.

Indeed, I do, Charlotte agreed.

If you’ll excuse us, I’ll be introducing my cousin to a few interesting individuals I have in mind.

Lord Davenport flashed a silly grin as his eyes gave one last lecherous stare at Charlotte’s plump beauties. As she turned to go, she gave him a teasing wink, which instantly sparked a disgruntled comment meant for Charlotte’s ears.

Well, I never. The nerve of that woman wearing red when her husband isn’t even cold in the grave, Lady Davenport spewed.

While chuckling at her response, Cedric led Charlotte through the crowd toward the refreshments. She could use another drink and eyed the crystal glasses with champagne sitting on the tabletop.

I have someone I want you to meet, Cedric announced. It will no doubt be the most important introduction of your entire unrestrained life.

What do you mean? Charlotte balked. Unrestrained. I have plenty of restraint when needed.

Before Cedric could answer, Charlotte suddenly halted near a man who was speaking intently to another gentleman. Charlotte eyed him up and down, noting his broad shoulders and tall stature. He had a full head of thick brown hair she found enticing. After living with a partially bald old man for far too long, nothing could be more attractive than gorgeous hair on a male form. Since she hadn’t seen the stranger’s face, Charlotte curbed her excitement. Attractive looks were few and far between, so she braced herself for the average Anglo-Saxon male.

Albert. Her cousin greeted him by name.

Excuse me a moment. He spoke to the unknown companion standing across from him. Afterward he turned his attention to her cousin. Cedric. It’s good to see you.

Charlotte looked at the domineering male specimen standing before her and locked her eyes on him with an incredulous stare. She had ceased breathing for a moment until his gaze shifted in her direction. He was undoubtedly the most handsomely chiseled male in all of London. Oozing with sexual charisma and possessing deep-brown eyes