table. The three
gentlemen, Lord Perkins, Sir Thomas Granville, and
Lord Paul Bancroft, reluctantly inched forward.
Lord Carlton, the fourth gentleman, was missing from
their number. He had pressed her hand as he led her into
supper, insisting they must meet alone, and she had instructed him to enter through the glass doors leading
from the back garden.
"Unfortunately, for you this is a farewell party," His
Grace informed them. "You three are each in the regrettable position of approaching my daughter Charlotte for
what I would consider a most inappropriate meeting."
The gentlemen looked very uncomfortable, shifting their weight from foot to foot, glancing about the room
as if looking for a quick escape, and clearing their
throats as if they could find their voices to refute the accusation.
"Without assassination to your characters, I shall
merely say that the three of you have proven yourselves
to be unsuitable, and I will ask you to leave Faraday Hall
immediately."
"
With an expression of compliance, Lord Perkins
replied, "If I may, Your Grace, I shall take my leave at
first light."
I mean immediately, my lord," Faraday insisted in a
clear and forceful expression, a tone which Charlotte
knew meant he was not to be disobeyed.
"But, Your Grace, it is the middle of the night," Sir
Thomas protested.
"Let me be clear about this." The Duke stood, and
Charlotte took a small step back, bracing herself, should
her father choose to exhibit his anger. "I do not wish to
see any of you at my breakfast table tomorrow morning."
"Ladies, Your Grace" Lord Paul dropped into an immediate bow and left. Sir Thomas and Lord Perkins followed his example and took their leave.
Their final leave.
Even after attending the ball until the early morning
hours the night before, Charlotte was up and about before nine. She had breakfast in the privacy of her own
room, and when she finally left, it was for the express
purpose of seeking Muriel.
After checking Muriel's bedchamber and the Specula Alta, Charlotte thought for certain her sister would
be in the Librarium. The small second-floor library was
a place where, as children, they had spent many hours
together, studying with their governess and Frederick's
tutors before he reached the age when he could attend
Eton.
As Charlotte understood it, Muriel could still be found
in the Librarium, where she took comfort in being surrounded by her books. She usually sat in the far corner,
where the sunlight poured in over her right shoulder,
with her back against the rear bookcase that contained all
her favorites.
Charlotte knew at once her search for Muriel had come to an end upon entering the Librarium and seeing
an open book held at head level.
"There were three of them last night, Moo," Charlotte
reported. "Papa asked them to leave that very instant.
He would not allow them to wait until daybreak."
The book lowered and a young, slender lad with
straight hair, wearing spectacles, stared back at her. He
stood, in fright, Charlotte guessed by the suddenness of
his action, when he realized she had entered the room.
"Oh, I do beg your pardon" Charlotte felt very bad that
she had disturbed him. "I thought you were my sister."
"Moo?" his voice cracked, as was common with a
boy of his years.
"Her name is Muriel. Lady Muriel. Moo's a family
nickname." Charlotte smiled. The young man must
have been twelve or thirteen and stood no taller than
her shoulder. "Who are you?"
"Sherwin Lloyd, my lady" He inclined his head just
slightly, removed his glasses, and blinked back at her.
"My brother James is here to-"
"Your brother is ... Lord Marsdon, is he not?"
"Yes, that's right." He folded his spectacles and
slipped them into his jacket pocket.
"I had the pleasure of making his acquaintance last
night at the ball. I believe I danced with him. Were you
also present?" Charlotte did not recall seeing him.
"No, I ... I.." He tugged at his jacket,
gentlemen, Lord Perkins, Sir Thomas Granville, and
Lord Paul Bancroft, reluctantly inched forward.
Lord Carlton, the fourth gentleman, was missing from
their number. He had pressed her hand as he led her into
supper, insisting they must meet alone, and she had instructed him to enter through the glass doors leading
from the back garden.
"Unfortunately, for you this is a farewell party," His
Grace informed them. "You three are each in the regrettable position of approaching my daughter Charlotte for
what I would consider a most inappropriate meeting."
The gentlemen looked very uncomfortable, shifting their weight from foot to foot, glancing about the room
as if looking for a quick escape, and clearing their
throats as if they could find their voices to refute the accusation.
"Without assassination to your characters, I shall
merely say that the three of you have proven yourselves
to be unsuitable, and I will ask you to leave Faraday Hall
immediately."
"
With an expression of compliance, Lord Perkins
replied, "If I may, Your Grace, I shall take my leave at
first light."
I mean immediately, my lord," Faraday insisted in a
clear and forceful expression, a tone which Charlotte
knew meant he was not to be disobeyed.
"But, Your Grace, it is the middle of the night," Sir
Thomas protested.
"Let me be clear about this." The Duke stood, and
Charlotte took a small step back, bracing herself, should
her father choose to exhibit his anger. "I do not wish to
see any of you at my breakfast table tomorrow morning."
"Ladies, Your Grace" Lord Paul dropped into an immediate bow and left. Sir Thomas and Lord Perkins followed his example and took their leave.
Their final leave.
Even after attending the ball until the early morning
hours the night before, Charlotte was up and about before nine. She had breakfast in the privacy of her own
room, and when she finally left, it was for the express
purpose of seeking Muriel.
After checking Muriel's bedchamber and the Specula Alta, Charlotte thought for certain her sister would
be in the Librarium. The small second-floor library was
a place where, as children, they had spent many hours
together, studying with their governess and Frederick's
tutors before he reached the age when he could attend
Eton.
As Charlotte understood it, Muriel could still be found
in the Librarium, where she took comfort in being surrounded by her books. She usually sat in the far corner,
where the sunlight poured in over her right shoulder,
with her back against the rear bookcase that contained all
her favorites.
Charlotte knew at once her search for Muriel had come to an end upon entering the Librarium and seeing
an open book held at head level.
"There were three of them last night, Moo," Charlotte
reported. "Papa asked them to leave that very instant.
He would not allow them to wait until daybreak."
The book lowered and a young, slender lad with
straight hair, wearing spectacles, stared back at her. He
stood, in fright, Charlotte guessed by the suddenness of
his action, when he realized she had entered the room.
"Oh, I do beg your pardon" Charlotte felt very bad that
she had disturbed him. "I thought you were my sister."
"Moo?" his voice cracked, as was common with a
boy of his years.
"Her name is Muriel. Lady Muriel. Moo's a family
nickname." Charlotte smiled. The young man must
have been twelve or thirteen and stood no taller than
her shoulder. "Who are you?"
"Sherwin Lloyd, my lady" He inclined his head just
slightly, removed his glasses, and blinked back at her.
"My brother James is here to-"
"Your brother is ... Lord Marsdon, is he not?"
"Yes, that's right." He folded his spectacles and
slipped them into his jacket pocket.
"I had the pleasure of making his acquaintance last
night at the ball. I believe I danced with him. Were you
also present?" Charlotte did not recall seeing him.
"No, I ... I.." He tugged at his jacket,
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