Page 12 of Falling for a Footman

"Might I be of further assistance, Lady Charlotte?" James offered with a twinkle in his eye, which Charlotte was certain was him having fun at her expense.

She was about to say that she would be fine on her own when she looked into his deep blue eyes. Once again, she felt how she lost herself in them, unable to pry her gaze away. They were dark blue at the edge and lighter blue around the black pupil. Like a deep ocean and the shallow waters at the beach. You could drown both places. She knew this from the summers they had spent in Brighton when she was a child.

It was not until James broke the eye contact and looked at the ladder and bookcase they were standing by that she was able to regain her senses. Charlotte had to fight the urge to shake her head at herself: She was being completely ridiculous. Even if they had been of the same rank, her infatuation with him would have been foolish and as it was now, he could probably have his pick among the housemaids.

"Which book were you looking for, Lady Charlotte?" James asked. There was definitely mirth in his voice which only made the whole thing more mortifying. He knew exactly how she felt about him. He had probably experienced it a hundred times before with other young women and only found it entertaining that the daughter of a duke would also be ensnared by him.

She quickly turned her gaze towards the top shelf, James turned as well to follow the direction she was looking.

"Tales of Wonder at the top," she replied.

James adroitly climbed the ladder and Charlotte stepped away and studied the carpet to not ogle his legs or backside as he did so. She allowed herself to turn and watch as he gently retrieved the book from the shelf. He had clearly been trained well, since he knew that you should not tug on the spine of the book but push the books next to it in and then pull it out, before straightening the two other books. He climbed down – once again Charlotte’s gaze returned to the carpet – and landed in front of her with an elegant sweep of his arm before handing her the book.

"Thank you," Charlotte stated.

She was going for amiable but thought that her voice betrayed more confusion and perhaps even was a bit tart, because she was trying to mask it. James smiled, nevertheless, bowed and made his way towards the door. Charlotte searched her brain for a topic to extend their conversation. Normally she would think it through when speaking to someone, but she already felt so utterly ridiculous around him, that whatever she said could not hurt.

"Where did you learn that tune?" she blurted, because despite how absurd and silly she felt in his company, she also wanted to be there for as long as possible.

He turned and his surprised dark blue eyes instantly found hers.

"The one you were whistling. I have not heard it outside of London," Charlotte explained.

She could see how his eyes went a bit wider as he realized what she was talking about, but also how they quickly narrowed as if to hide a secret. No surely, she was making it up. It had to be because she was studying him so intently that she noticed every little flutter that his eyes made.

"I couldn't say, Lady Charlotte. Perhaps in the house where I worked before."

"Where was that?" Charlotte asked. It seemed a natural question and besides it was the only that she could think of.

If they had been in a ballroom in London, she would have prepared some topics before leaving home to make certain that she could always converse with someone. She would read the newspaper and make notes to herself on current events. Some men and women, especially those who were a bit older than herself, where delighted to discuss them with her, while men and women her own age usually wanted to talk about other topics. She had tried to prepare a few as well, making notes about dress cuts and colors to discuss with young debutantes and horse racing and hunting with the gentlemen. If nothing else, they could always talk about the weather or the traffic on the drive there. But with James she did not have any of those options.

"Eh, the estate of the Marquis of Riplingham." he replied.

"In Suffolk?" Charlotte asked disbelievingly.

She knew the Marquis of Riplingham by reputation mainly. He was a man about ten years older than her father and one of his allies in the House of Lords and thus had visited their house often, but usually Charlotte had only caught glimpses of him at their townhouse. This season she had been introduced to him and his wife properly at her debut ball and had greeted them both at several other parties. She especially liked the marchioness who was a bright and outgoing woman who could make Charlotte laugh no matter how stuffy or shy she felt at a ball.

The couple had three children: two sons and a daughter. She had met the two eldest since they were also in London for the season. The marquis’s daughter was about ten years older than Charlotte and much like the marchioness she possessed a way of making Charlotte feel at ease. Charlotte had sometimes sought her out intentionally when at a ball where the conversation with strangers had become too much.

But from her conversations with both the marquis, the marchioness, and their daughter she also knew that the Marquis of Riplingham’s main estate was in Suffolk. Great Farleigh Hall was located in Somerset which was several days travel away. It seemed a long move for a servant to make.

"Yes, in Suffolk. My sister and her husband relocated to Somerset due to her husband’s work. They are the only family I have, and I was very fortunate to be able to find a position close to them,” James explained amiably but also in a tone of voice that stated that he did not want to continue their conversation. Her suspicion was confirmed when he said: “If you don't mind, Lady Charlotte, the duke asked me to fetch his copy of Leviathan for him from his suite." James had already turned towards the door as he spoke.

"Oh, of course, yes, I'm sorry for keeping you from your work," Charlotte breathed and felt herself blush.

He smiled briefly, a smile that reached his dark blue eyes and made Charlotte’s heart pound faster, and quickly left the room. Charlotte went back to her chair and opened the book, but the letters would sail on the page. It was like when she tried to read a book in a dream: No matter how hard she tried she could never make the letters on the page make any sense.

All she could see in her inner eye was James’s blue eyes, his broad shoulders and how the corners of his mouth had tucked up more than once. She felt certain that he was a person who easily laughed and made others laugh with him.

It was not until she lay in bed at night, trying to find a comfortable position because of the bruises that had started forming on her body that she realized that James could read. She had only told him the title of the book and he had gotten it without hesitation. The realization was so startling that Charlotte opened her eyes and looked into the darkness of her room.