The Corinthians Series: Rules of Masquerade

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

After their short trip to the chapel Charlotte wasted no time strutted to his study, asked for directions and spoke very little. She kept a considerable distance from him at all times, as though he had contracted a contagious form of illness that she did not want to catch. Her confessions under the domed ceiling had left him feeling a tad guilty but William soon brushed the remorse away. She might not know the truth just yet but it was all for her own good. He needed to make sure that Charlotte Alistair, the woman he intended to marry, was suitable and agreeable to him. He would not as go so far to require love from her, but compatibility is a trait almost as important.

William watched the seductive sway of her hips while Charlotte trudged down the hallway, the flow of her dress flattering the tantalizing curve of her derriere. They finally halted in front of a polished wooden door with a ornate ivory handle similar to other rooms in the house. It was his study and William stepped in to pull the door open for Charlotte. She treaded inside, stopped short and looked around for him.

“I feel like I am invading your sanctuary.” She said softly before her grey eyes roamed the room, scanning over the book cases, the grey stone mantelpiece and a handsome painting that hung above, finally resting on his neat and orderly table.

William rolled his shoulders and stepped into the room himself. “It cannot be helped. To be honest I am glad that we ended up searching for the coffer here, I knew this room fairly well.”

Charlotte nodded and began moving about the room, peering between shelves and bookcases. “I suppose that is true. Men do have a reputation of spending ridiculous amount of time in their study.” She remarked absentmindedly.

William chortled. “Ridiculous amount of time?”

Charlotte twirled around. The hem of her dress caught the breeze and danced around her ankles. The stern expression she wore earlier had melted off, replaced by a shy smile budding in her lips. “Why yes. I have three older brothers my lord; I observed them enough to know.”

“I suppose that is true most of the times, but ladies hardly escape the crime as well.”

Charlotte stood on her tippy toes to peer above a rather tall cubbyhole. “Whatever are you implying?”

“Women spend the same amount of time, if not more, tucked away in their colorful little salons playing the pianoforte, arranging flowers, singing, perfecting their needlework. Quite industrious I should say, you lot are.”

Charlotte smiled lopsidedly and shook her head. “Sadly my lord, I do not belong in the aforementioned lot. My needlework is disastrous.”

William chuckled. “Truly?”

“Oh yes, my daffodils looks like sheep and my doves, well, they are hardly recognizable.” Charlotte confessed, her chagrin widening slightly.

“What about your other feminine accomplishments?” He moved to inspect the drawers of his table and Charlotte hovered around the sitting area, checking behind ornate vases and the leather upholstered divan.

“I am not gifted with a musical ear nor do I sing very well. Oliver actually once pointed out that whenever I sing, I sound like a harpy’s dying screech. I was seven then. I butcher our garden regularly in my attempts of gardening and pruning.” She answered in a slow even tone as if the act of acknowledging the most embarrassing tidbit about herself was beyond her realm of concern. She was opening up to him and it made him smile, because of mirth and the sense of satisfaction he felt.

“Good God.” He feigned horror and Charlotte bobbed her head up and down.

To remedy her reputation Charlotte added, “However, I consider myself that I a very good eye in fashion.”