The Corinthians Series: Rules of Masquerade

Chapter Four

Dedicated to my buddy and former roommate. We're nerds bro. Embrace the awesome truth. Pass me that book about Lancelot when you're done with it. :D 

Chapter Four

Pulling herself away from the recollection took conscious effort. Nearly three years had passed from that one night of masquerade in Northumberland and since then, Charlotte had been officially launched into society and braced two seasons, waiting for the man who could set fire to her body just like Lord Sheldrake once did. None had come close in invoking the passion and thrill William had stirred in within her. After that encounter Charlotte had been silently waiting and wanting to feel that way again, to feel her heart thumping against her ribcage and relished the moment as her senses came alive and soared.

And for William to resurface in her life now was far too cruel. She was to wed his wizened grandfather and effectively making him forbidden to her touch forevermore. Life was too cruel, far too cruel. Her heart was fluttering in her chest like a trapped bird, anxious for escape. It reflected exactly how she was feeling, trapped and imprisoned in her home without a say in her own fate. Charlotte looked around her room, a gilded cage. Never before she had so felt utterly trapped and miserable. She needed to hatch another scheme, a way out of this, out of this engagement. What can she do so that Lord Sheffield would respectably withdraw his suit before the announcement for this ridiculous engagement was known to the public?

Just then her eyes rested on a portrait of her mother which was hanged directly above the fireplace. Her mother was a beautiful woman, toast of the ton for her originality and exquisite good looks. In the portrait her deep crimson gown complimented the pinkish hue of her skin. Her light colored eyes were looking down onto Charlotte, soft and maternal.

Oh mama, whatever shall I do? Help me mama!

Then her gaze travelled to her mama’s face, marveling her high cheekbones and dark English auburn hair. Rested on her pert little nose was a half moon glasses. It was known throughout London that the Countess needed to have her glasses on at all times for she could not quite see without them. Nowadays a lady with a pair of glasses had fallen out of style. One might even go as far as to guarantee that a woman who wear them shall never marry, such undesirable it was to wear a pair of spectacles. The mark of a spinster they say. That was when Charlotte’s lips curled into a smile.

Thank you mama!

She turned around to face Fanny who was securing a sash to her waist. Dear sweet Fanny, her maid was the most loyal companion a girl could ever ask for. But as devoted as her maid was to her, Fanny was an unconvincing liar and she easily cracks under pressure. One severe twitch from Edwin’s brow was all Fanny needed to come undone and wept noisily on her handkerchief. No, she cannot possibly include Fanny in her plan this time around.

“What is the matter milady?” Her maid squeaked, soulful brown eyes wide with concern.

“Oh Fanny!” Charlotte wailed and forced a grimace to distort her features in a convincing manner. It does not take a great deal of acting at all to assure Fanny that something was dreadfully wrong. Charlotte moaned weakly and unfocused her eyes. Fanny’s eyes were wide with worry and in a panicked mind she grabbed her mistress’s arms before Charlotte squeezed one last whimper and fainted dead away.

A woman’s bloodcurdling scream propelled William and the rest of the men onto their feet. Edwin looked up to the ceiling and so did his brothers. Lord Alistair merely looked tired and sank back into his seat. The earl reached for his brandy and took a sip.