Charity did not think herself like other girls her age. The family she'd moved in with following her father's death had daughters who loved to have tea parties and dress their dolls in frilly gowns sewn by their mother. Charity found no fun in that. It was hard to find fun in anything nowadays, in fact, but if there was one thing she both enjoyed and found useful, it was practicing her handwriting.
Thankfully Uncle Evander had taken it upon himself to hire a good and proper governess, who could be as comforting and motherly as she was stern and serious. Charity had weeks of studying to catch up on, but luckily she liked reading and writing so it didn't take much time. She had already filled eight pages with duplicates of her full name—Miss Charity Freesia Lloyd—by the time she was interrupted by a sudden rapping on her door.
To her surprise, it was not the housekeeper nor the maid nor her Uncle Evander himself, but rather the other one. She surprised even herself when a smile that reached her eyes found its place on her face. She had grown awfully lonesome during her afternoon routine, and what better to change the pace of things than her curly-haired uncle?
She dropped her quill, went to the door, and opened it without a moment of hesitation.
"You've come to see me. I was beginning to think you wouldn't," she said, staring up at him with raised brows. She noticed that he hadn't brought anything with him other than himself, which was good. She was sick of people bringing her stuff, especially when the gifts seemed to be their way of showing their remorse for her situation.
Thankfully Uncle Evander had taken it upon himself to hire a good and proper governess, who could be as comforting and motherly as she was stern and serious. Charity had weeks of studying to catch up on, but luckily she liked reading and writing so it didn't take much time. She had already filled eight pages with duplicates of her full name—Miss Charity Freesia Lloyd—by the time she was interrupted by a sudden rapping on her door.
To her surprise, it was not the housekeeper nor the maid nor her Uncle Evander himself, but rather the other one. She surprised even herself when a smile that reached her eyes found its place on her face. She had grown awfully lonesome during her afternoon routine, and what better to change the pace of things than her curly-haired uncle?
She dropped her quill, went to the door, and opened it without a moment of hesitation.
"You've come to see me. I was beginning to think you wouldn't," she said, staring up at him with raised brows. She noticed that he hadn't brought anything with him other than himself, which was good. She was sick of people bringing her stuff, especially when the gifts seemed to be their way of showing their remorse for her situation.
