In The Devil's Stables (Spirited #1)

Chapter One

London
1816 - Present Day

Lady Charlotte never imagined herself in quite this predicament. Although, with her neighbor and childhood friend, Sophie Beaumonte, breathing heavily behind her, perhaps Charlie could.

For, at the moment, Charlie found herself hunkering behind a tall, potted fern, shielding herself from view in one of the many hallways of her uncle's newly acquired town home in Mayfair. It wouldn't have appeared quite that uncommon for Sophie and Charlie, if not twenty feet away in the ballroom, in Charlie's uncle's ballroom, London's elite had not come upon them en masse. The ladies flitted with their fans and sent flirtatious glances, the gentleman vying for flutes of champagne while avoiding the matchmaking mamas of the ton.

Charlie glanced down, a wry smile tilting her lips.

Or if, in fact, Charlie had not been dressed for the ball she was currently hosting.

The beautiful, cornflower blue ballgown was made of a decadent fabric that twirled about her legs, caressing her in silk. The bodice was cut rather low, the sleeves slipping off her shoulders. Madame Laurent, one of London's most prized French modistes, had finished the gown only last week.

Charlie knew Madame would be horrified indeed to find Charlie lurking about in her gown behind an overgrown and detestable (but well-placed) plant with her white gloves snagged, and her slippered heels no doubt stepping upon the delicate hem of her gown.

This, Charlie thought with a wry smile, was why she preferred not to have nice, delicate things in proper, ladylike fabrics.

It wasn't conducive to subterfuge.

With that in mind, Charlie shoved down a few fronds, her violet eyes peering down the long parquet hallway.

Nothing.

Charlie cast a glance over her shoulder, meeting Sophie's eyes which were wide in her face from their quick-paced walk followed by a sprint to the nearest obstacle to hide them. Charlie gave her friend a nod, her head jerking in the direction they were headed. Sophie nodded back, and Charlie let go of the frond, which chose to swing back into her face, slapping her with its prickly edges.

Charlie cursed, ignoring Sophie's snort of laughter, as she tip-toed further down the hall, casting one last furtive glance at the glittering candles of the ballroom.

It had been a long wait of playing the dutiful hostess, chatting with various lords and ladies, while taking a few turns about the dance floor. Her uncle had yet to stay in one place long enough for Charlie and Sophie to sneak away to investigate his study. Charlie had bided her time, dancing attendance upon her guests.

She had even let herself be taken through a few reels, one with a partner who was distinctly flat-footed, while the other had stared, entranced, at her bosom as if the secrets of the universe could be found betwixt them.

For all she knew, perhaps those secrets were there, and Charlie simply wasn't the proper gender to notice.

Focus, Charlie.

It was no time for talk of her bosom.

Charlie rolled her eyes at her wayward thoughts as she motioned for Sophie to follow her. While she was sure it had been only minutes since they had fled the ballroom, Charlie knew her uncle wouldn't stay preoccupied with his current conquest for long. Her opportunity had finally arisen when Henry had taken Lord Townsend aside. A new lordling, Charlie had heard, that was embroiled in debt, his collectors threatening debtor's prison.  Her uncle had been in deep conversation with him, while the man had shifted his eyes about as if seeking salvation.