“No.”
“Harry!”
“You two,” Charlotte stepped toward them, doing her best to block out the sight of their behavior from those passing by on the other side of the river. “Children who are toddlers may get away behaving in such a way in public, but you are young adults now. Act your station, for God’s sake. Rose, if he throws that book in the river, you are not to go in after it. Harry, give her back the book.”
Both Rose and Harry gave up with their tussling for a few seconds.
Comforted, Charlotte walked on again. She tried to smile at acquaintances she passed by, but this time, her smile was feeble because her mind was elsewhere.
She seemed to keep ending up in situations that caused mortification. If it was not her mother laughing too loudly in public, or her father’s lack of fortunes, then it was her brother and sister acting like babies, or even the Duke of Rodstone stepping on toes in order to dance with her.
We’ll be talked of persistently at this rate.
Her hands fidgeted together as she bit her lip, wondering when she should return to the Duke of Rodstone’s house for their next lesson. In spite of how she had run out of his house the day before, she knew she would go back in a heartbeat. She didn’t doubt it. If he made the request, she would go.
She looked down at her feet thinking of the way he had placed a hand on her cheek when he had found her crying. He was protecting her. Again, he was far from that tall, brooding, and brutish man that many had presumed him to be.
There is such kindness in him, and yet, he is to leave.
She chewed her lip, a concern entering her mind she had not thought of before. She had been so busy trying to teach the Duke of Rodstone how to behave in public, she wondered what he would make of her family. Was he embarrassed by her mother’s laughter, or her siblings’ public arguments?
“Harry!” Rose suddenly wailed from behind them again.
Charlotte spun around to see that Harry had tossed the book into the air. He was toying with it, throwing it up and then catching it again, growing increasingly close to the river.
Charlotte didn’t know what to say. She just stood there in alarm, her jaw slack, as she watched the exhibition of embarrassment unfold before her.
Rose flung herself at Harry, trying to stop him and catch the book, but her movement only meant that Harry missed the book entirely. It fell onto the riverbank and rolled quickly down toward the water. It fell into the river with a loud splash.
Those in the park who hadn’t looked around at Rose’s squeal, now looked around at the splash.
“Harry! How could you?” Rose said, pushing her brother back.
They were brawling, like small children.
Charlotte could say nothing. With her hands over her mouth, she watched as Rose ran down the riverbank toward the book. Harry ran after her.
“Rose, I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Yes, you did. You are always causing trouble. Always.”
Yet the two ended up entangled and both stumbled into the water. They fell knee deep.
Charlotte looked away.
A countess she recognized on the other side of the river gasped, as if it was the worst display of behavior that she had seen that year. She looked away, but not before casting Charlotte a look of pure condescension. Another gentleman that Charlotte did not know offered her a similar look, his nose curling with the movement, then he was gone, walking off with another group of equally shocked members of theton.
She feared what these people would think of Rose and Harry. For so long, she had tried to protect her family from condescension. Was this what all her hard work would come to? Would her efforts to help Rose and Harry be futile?
“Harry!” Rose wrestled Harry for control of the book, both of them splashing about in the water.
Charlotte lowered her hands from her face and moved to the edge of the riverbank. A white-hot rage engulfed her body, to the point that her hands shook at her side.
“What in God’s name do you two think you are doing?” She found a volume she did not know she had.
She knew she was now adding to the exhibition, but what did it matter anymore? Rose’s and Harry’s behavior had certainly ruined any ounce of respect she had from anyone walking in this park. She reckoned one outburst could not make it any worse.
“Do I have to be your constable? To curb your behavior constantly because you two do not know what it is to act your age or even try to earn something akin to respect?” Her words were in full flow now, and she could not stop them, even though she realized that Rose was tearful, and Harry stared at her agog. “No, no, of course, not. What am I thinking? Because why would you two pass up on an opportunity to embarrass us all? To risk your own reputations?”
