The Unwanted Heiress Read Online Free Page A

Finally, the headmistress of the last school sent her home with a note indicating she felt she could speak for all the ladies academies in her country when she said they would prefer Charlotte not return to Switzerland as she had an unsettling influence on the other young ladies.
    “In eighteen-fifteen—no, eighteen-sixteen—I went to live with my uncle’s uncle near Richmond,” Charlotte said, her voice hesitant despite her efforts to make it all sound like a grand adventure.
    All the young females in that household were already married, therefore this situation seemed best for everyone. Unfortunately, that was when her negative influence on older, married women first exhibited itself. Charlotte had not realized what her opinions about the equality of women meant to an older, careworn lady.
    After years of silent suffering, Charlotte’s aunt had informed her husband she would no longer tolerate his affairs with dancers and opera singers. If he didn’t mend his ways, she would remove herself to their country estate where he would emphatically Not Be Welcomed!
    Of course, Lady Victoria did not need to know any of this. Mr. Archer could entertain dozens of opera dancers and Charlotte would not say a word.
    “Are the Westovers your uncle’s uncle?” Lady Victoria asked when Charlotte paused.
    “Oh, no. I was only with them for two years. Then I went to live with the Westovers. They are, I understand, distant relatives of my uncle’s uncle. I am not entirely sure of the exact relationship. I went to them a few months ago.”
    “And so now you’ve come to live with the Archers.” Lady Victoria patted Charlotte’s clasped hands. “It will be a relief, I am sure, to finally settle someplace.” Her sharp gaze was surprisingly kind when she caught Charlotte’s glance.
    A few hot tears pricked the backs of Charlotte’s eyes. “Yes, I suppose it shall.” She sipped her tea to regain her composure. She would not indulge in a fit of the vapors the first time someone seemed sympathetic to her. “If it isn’t impertinent, may I ask how you are related to the Haywoods?”
    “Haywoods?” Lady Vic toria repeated, her face blank.
    “Yes, well, I was simply wondering how I came to be here, that is—are you my relatives? Distant, I am sure, but I had not heard of the Archers….” Her questions sounded impolite, but she couldn’t help asking.
    She suddenly felt desperate for reassurance that she was safe to make friends with the Archers : that they wouldn’t send her on her way in a few weeks or months.
    As if understanding, Lady Victoria took Charlotte’s hand and held it in her own, rubbing the warmth back into her cold fingers. “Oh, I shouldn’t worry about it.” She shrugged and chafed Charlotte’s hand more vigorously. “ I am dreadful with genealogy and can barely keep my own nieces and nephews straight. Who is to say how we are related?”
    Charlotte paused, trying to understand why she felt Lady Victoria was sidestepping the question. In the past, Charlotte had developed the useful talent of sensing when someone was avoiding the truth, perhaps because she wished she were better at such “embroidery” herself.
    The sensation of an unexplained undercurrent did warn her, however. Experience had shown the dangers of ignoring such signals or getting too close to anyone acting as her guardian.
    Gently removing her hand from Lady Victoria’s clasp, Charlotte picked up the teapot and poured fresh cups.
    Take a step back, concentrate on the future . Soon she would be free of solemn, disapproving guardians and drafty rooms in cold English homes where she never belonged, where she could not even discuss her ideas without causing disharmony and disruption.
    As if sensing her withdrawal, Lady Victoria spoke idly about the unsettled weather. After a few minutes, Charlotte screwed up enough courage to ask another question, one prompted by her uncontrollable curiosity.
    “Why are you Lady Victoria while your