Charlotte did her best to tamp down the rage she’d experienced after the guests had taken their leave. It wasn’t easy. “He tossed them into the fire.”
Her throat worked with the effort it took to hold back her tears. It wasn’t so much the harsh words her father had spoken that pained her, or even his act of destroying something she valued, but rather his rejection of her as a person. She’d labored for months over those books, poured every piece of her heart and soul into them. If he ever discovered she’d not only read them but that she had penned them, he’d probably have her thrown out of the house.
As for Mr. Cooper, his opinion of her work only underscored her need to avoid marriage. He’d never approve of her writing suchnonsense, as he’d put it.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. MacNeil said. His gaze was truly conciliatory. “If ye like, ye can borrow my copy. Or we can stop by a bookshop so ye can purchase another.”
Warmed by his kindness and understanding, Charlotte gave him a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer and the suggestion, but the thing is, Mr. MacNeil, I only gave Papa one of each book. There are duplicates under my bed.”
His grin was instantaneous. “Ye scheming minx.”
She savored the light camaraderie she felt in his company. So when they were done with her errand and he suggested they stop for a walk in the park, she agreed.
Anything to prolong their time together and delay her return home.
Not wise.
She didn’t care.
“Do ye ever wonder why we were put on this earth or what our purpose might be?” Mr. MacNeil asked while they walked with Daisy following at a respectable distance.
“Sometimes. More so when I was younger, I think.”
“And did ye ever figure it out?”
She laughed in response to his teasing tone. “I believe I decided it had to be for the sake of the puppeteers.”
He gave her a curious look. “The puppeteers?”
“Yes. All those people who want to dictate the lives of others.”
“Like yer parents?”
“For example,” she agreed with a small shrug. “Of course they never planned on resistance – on some of the puppets having wills of their own.”
“Hmm… I’ve recently been reading Descartes’Discourse on the Method.”
“Ah,je pense, donc je suis. I think therefore I am.”
“Ye’re familiar with it?”
“Not especially. Just with that one saying. My sister, Edwina, dabbles in philosophy. At one point this particular idea was all she cared to discuss.”
“It is an interesting observation. If one can call it that.”
“And hard to dispute, although I must confess some surprise at hearing you mention it.Discourse on the Methodhas very little in common withThe Earl’s Secret Escapades,which you’ve already claimed to be your favorite book.” She gave him a playful nudge with her elbow.
“Am I not permitted to have a broad interest?” When she failed to answer quickly enough he said, “One enriches my mind, the other offers escape. They’re as different as…pork roast and ice cream. One doesnae have to exclude the other. They’re just differently suited.”
“Hmm. An interesting point.”
In fact, everything about Mr. MacNeil was interesting. He fascinated her and left her wondering long after they’d parted ways. Each time she saw him during the course of the next eleven days, he’d say something surprising – something that didn’t fit with the sort of man who just ran a St. Giles tavern. Even with his history as Carlton Guthrie’s lieutenant taken into account, something didn’t add up. He was too skilled at sliding into the role she’d asked him to play. To the point where she was starting to forget he wasn’t who he pretended to be.
As for Mr. Cooper…
While he was nice enough and not nearly as terrible as she’d expected, he bored her to tears with his constant talk of steel production and furnaces and the factories he’d built and the businessmen he associated with and how he’d once visited Mr. Astor. It just seemed to go on and on with no end in sight.
So she wasn’t unhappy when he chose to cancel his visit one sunny Wednesday morning on account of a last minute business meeting he’d managed to set up. Intent on using her free time to catch up on the writing she’d been neglecting for the last week and a half, Charlotte called for some tea to be brought to her bedchamber and went to work.
