Page 11 of Falling for a Footman

Seven

Charlotte congratulatedherself on having been able to avoid James for most of the day when she settled in the library in the afternoon the next day. He had not been one of the footmen bringing dishes to the breakfast table, which was a relief since it meant she could have that meal in undisturbed peace. Or as much as one could be in peace when Lucy was your sister and constantly chatting your ear off.

After riding around the southern part of the estate with her father, having luncheon with her mother and Lucy and practicing the piano for a couple of hours, she had retired to the library to be alone for a little while. At least she would be certain that she did not meet James there. The footmen only came in when called upon, and she would make certain not to.

The library at Great Farleigh Hall was grand and majestic with bookshelves from floor to ceiling all the way around the room. There was a sofa and two chairs by the fireplace in pale blue velvet and a large mahogany table to place larger books on as well as for studying. Charlotte's mother had redone the library last year and had the room repainted in eggshell white and laid out a thick dark blue carpet that covered the floor and swallowed up all sound of your feet as you walked. It had always been one of Charlotte's favorite rooms and the redecoration had only enhanced the feeling. It felt like an entirely different world to the otherwise busy estate.

After only half an hour, the door was opened rather abruptly. Charlotte almost jumped in her seat at the sound of it, when it practically slammed against the ladder that rested against the bookcase closest to the door.

“Oh, blast,” Lucy exclaimed as she tried to stop the door from knocking over the ladder.

Charlotte had heard the curse before but never used it herself. She silently formed her lips around it, as she watched Lucy get the door under control and hurry towards her.

“Who taught you that?” Charlotte asked.

Her index finger was resting between the pages of the book at the place she had left off. She was almost finished with it and frankly could hardly wait until Lucy left to go back to it.

“What?” Lucy demanded and looked at the door as if Charlotte was asking who had taught her to slam doors open.

“The curse,” Charlotte explained.

“Oh, that. Edmund, of course. Do you want to go for a walk?”

Charlotte shook her head. Her riding trip this morning had felt invigorating. Finally, she was able to move about without feeling the eyes of people in the city upon her. But it had also left her a bit sore. She could feel that she was not used to riding for so long anymore.

“No, I want to finish my book,” Charlotte told her and showed her the back of the book.

Lucy wrinkled her nose, almost as if in disgust.

“Jane will have to come along then. I think I will ask Mr. Giles whether I can bring one of the dogs,” Lucy added.

“I’m sure he will be delighted,” Charlotte answered as she opened the book and thought that she might go by tomorrow to borrow one or more of the dogs for a walk as well.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lucy leaving. She did not close the door properly, and it slowly swung open again. Charlotte considered closing it, or even better calling Lucy back and having her close it but could not be bothered. She wanted to finish this book, now preferably.

Her eyes raced over the pages until she reached the end and when she looked up it was with a both satisfied and hollow feeling inside. She took a moment to consider whether she would have done anything to change the ending if she had been the writer. She liked stoic heroes, but they could also be too stoic for her taste. To the point where they almost took the heroine for granted. She would probably have shown a bit more affection on the hero’s side, even though it was not a romance novel. But it never hurt to show that a woman was loved. She felt a flash of a pleasant warm emotion through her belly at the thought as she rose to put the book back on the shelf and find another one.

She spotted Tales of Wonder by Walter Scott and “Monk” Lewis on a top shelve. Her mother was an avid reader of gothic novels and she had recommended the book to Charlotte more than once. Perhaps she should try it to indulge her mother – and take her mind off everything that was happening. She moved the ladder and climbed up it to be able to reach the book.

At that moment she noticed a whistle from the hallway beyond the library. Loud and melodical. Someone who actually knew to whistle and not simply make an almost owl-like sound which was all Charlotte could manage. Since Lucy had left the door open, Charlotte was able to make out exactly which song it was: A dancing tune that was popular in London at the moment.

Later Charlotte was not exactly sure how she knew but as she heard the whistling, she was certain that it was James. She had only heard his voice a few times and only to utter brief sentences and yet she knew. As she heard the whistling right outside the door and knew that he would be passing by any moment, she could not help but lean to the side to be able to glance at him. It was completely ridiculous, but she did so without even thinking of it.

She had entirely misjudged how much she was able to lean over the side of the ladder though and with a shriek, she fell and landed on the floor with a thump. Being a horsewoman, Charlotte had been thrown from a horse more than once. The difference was that when you were thrown from a horse you usually had some inkling as to what was about to happen. The fall had come as a complete shock to her, and Charlotte could still feel the alarm running in her bloodstream as her eyes stung with tears, more due to the fright of the fall than the pain in her hip and shoulder.

"Lady Charlotte," James exclaimed as he rushed inside the library to help her up.

Charlotte quickly sat up and dried her eyes. She was unable to meet his eyes as he loomed above her. He must think her the silliest most foolish girl in the entire county. The entire kingdom probably. The thought only made her eyes sting even worse.

"I'm fine," she breathed and tried to rise from her undignified position on the carpet in as graceful a manner as possible. Which was of course completely impossible.

"Let me assist you, my lady," James offered and extended a hand towards her.

Charlotte looked at his hand in the white glove. It would be extremely rude to ignore it and it was a help to have him assist her to her feet. Slowly she reached out and placed her own hand in his. She was glad that he was wearing gloves since the thin fabric meant that their skin did not touch directly. Nevertheless, she could not help but notice the heat that emanated through them and blush at the feeling. Heavens, she was such a ridiculous creature. She quickly let go of his hands as soon as she was on her feet again and clenched her hands to not wipe them on her skirt. Not that she wanted to brush the feel of his hands away, but because she felt she had to if she was to maintain her composure for the rest of their interaction.

"I'm fine, it’s a thick carpet," she explained and focused on all other aspects of his person than his eyes.

He was about four inches taller which made him a rather tall man since Charlotte was a rather tall woman. He was dressed in the seafoam green, white, and silver Camborne livery that emphasized his shoulders. His dark brown hair was gathered in a whisk at the back of his head. It made him look rather... cheeky. There had been a couple of the young men of the ton that had had long hair like that, and all the other young women had thought it practically swoon worthy. Charlotte had not understood the attraction to men with long hair – until now.