by Leah Conolly
With a sigh, she made her way to the study where Duncan was seated at his desk. He looked up when she entered and smiled.
“Good morning, Miss Becker,” he said, rising from his seat. “How are you feeling?”
Charlotte smiled, her troubles temporarily fading in the light of his warm greeting.
“Much better, thank you,” she said.
Duncan surveyed her for a moment, looking for any lingering signs of illness. When he saw none, his expression brightened further.
“I am glad,” he said. “Nevertheless, I would like you to be careful today. Do not strain yourself. There is nothing more important to me than your wellbeing.”
Charlotte shook her head fervently. She was anxious to return to her normal routine. Though she loved Duncan for his continued concern, the current situation was anything but normal.
“You are worrying too much,” she said, making her voice as light as possible. “I am well. Believe me.”
Duncan stepped from behind his desk, stopping very close to Charlotte. He was looking at her with a mixture of concern and affection.
“I could not be gladder,” he said. “And I wish to keep it that way.”
Charlotte blushed, feeling a strong connection between them. For a brief moment, she wanted nothing more than for him to lean down and kiss her.
The moment was disrupted, however. Brisk footsteps echoed down the hallway, and in another minute, Helena Lancaster stood in the office doorway. She looked at the pair standing so closely together, and she raised her eyebrows.
“What is this?” she demanded.
Charlotte looked at Duncan, unsure of what to say or do. His jaw tightened immediately, and his hands began to clench.
“This is me speaking with Miss Becker, Mother,” he said. “Which is absolutely none of your business.”
Helena cackled.
“Oh, Duncan,” she said. “You are quite mistaken in that regard.”
Duncan turned to face his mother.
“The only mistake I have made is not having you removed from my home this instant,” he said.
Helena looked at him, her expression snide and cold.
“I believe that you will at least wish to hear what I have to say first,” she said, glancing sideways at Charlotte. “Though, I very much doubt that she will.”
Charlotte watched Duncan’s eyes narrow, and, for a moment, she thought he was going to tell her to leave.
“Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Miss Becker,” Duncan said.
Helena laughed again, and the sound gave Charlotte chills.
“I believe this is a matter best discussed between the two of us first,” she said. This time, she turned her gaze toward Charlotte, staring at her with a spite-filled, meaningful look.
Charlotte felt the color drain from her face. Whatever it was that Helena was going to say had to be bad. Why would she not wish to oust Charlotte right away? Why send her out of the room and speak to Duncan alone first?
Duncan looked at Charlotte, no doubt seeing the pallor of her face, and he took a step toward her. Charlotte, in her frantic state, took a step back and glanced instinctively at Helena. Duncan glared at his mother, then turned back to Charlotte, giving her a small but reassuring smile.
“Miss Becker,” he said softly. “Would you please give me a few moments alone with my mother?”
Helena’s cold laughter cut through the warmth of Duncan’s tone.
“Yes, girl,” Helena said, clearly proud of her victory. “This is a private matter. For now.”
Charlotte forced herself to move. It was unusual for Duncan to ask her to leave, rather than sending his mother away. She could not help but wonder if, for some reason, Duncan thought less of her, either because of something Helena had said or because of her ill spell. She smiled back at Duncan, altogether avoiding Helena’s gaze.
“Of course, my lord,” she said with a curtsy. Without acknowledging his mother, she turned quickly and left the room. She started to close the door behind her, but the sudden slam of the door before she could touch the knob startled her. Now safely out from under Helena Lancaster’s stare, Charlotte allowed herself to stare indignantly at the door before she turned away to walk down the hall. The woman was certainly a shrew, and Charlotte longed to tell her how she had no right to treat anyone that way. She was becoming nastier and crueler by the day, and it seemed that not even her son was spared from her cold temperament.
Charlotte’s indignance did not last long, however. As she stepped away from the door, she could hear Duncan’s voice rise. She could not hear what he was saying, so she instinctively took a step back toward the door. She glanced around, feeling guilty for eavesdropping, but unable to pull herself away from the room.
She moved as close to the door as she dared, trying to be as quiet as possible. However, all she could hear was Duncan’s voice rising even more, and his mother’s rising to match. Were they arguing over her again? Despite how muffled the words on the other side of the door were, she strained hard to listen for any words might relate to her, but she could make nothing out.
After several long, heated moments, Charlotte heard Helena storming toward the study door, and she raced down the hallway. She tried to make herself invisible and pretended to be interested in a book that had been lying on a bench just outside of the drawing room. However, Helena dashed straight for her and got so close that she could feel the woman’s breath on her face.
“You thought that you could hide the truth from everyone,” she said, her eyes burning and her voice wild, almost triumphant. “Even Duncan knows that you are keeping something hidden. Beware, young lady. Secrets do not stay hidden forever.”
With a proud, smug expression, Helena turned up her nose and walked out the door. Charlotte stood frozen, watching the woman leave. Was she telling the truth? Did Duncan suspect that she was keeping something from him?
Just then, Duncan walked out of his study. He moved slowly and looked to be in a great deal of distress. All thoughts of herself quickly fled from Charlotte’s mind, and she rushed to Duncan’s side. Whatever had transpired between him and his mother had affected him terribly, and she hated seeing him so unlike his usual happy, calm self.
“Are you alright?” she asked, instinctively touching his arm. To her surprise, he did not withdraw from her touch.
“I will be fine,” he said. Charlotte’s heart broke at the weakness and uncertainty in his voice.
“Forgive me,” she said, seeing an opportunity to return the kindness and affection he had shown her when she was ill. “You do not seem fine. Come.” She gently led him into the drawing room and guided him to a comfortable seat.
Once he was seated, she patted his arm.
“I will fetch you some tea,” she said, leaving the room before he could protest. He would have sent one of the servants to get tea for them both, but she wanted to do something nice for him. She went into the kitchen and prepared some fresh tea, precisely the way he liked it. She carried the tray back into the drawing room and poured Duncan a cup. She gently handed it to him, then sat down beside him.
Duncan took a small sip of tea before placing the cup on the small table before them.
“Thank you,” he said without looking at her.
“Of course, my lord,” she said. “Would you like me to fetch anything else?”
“No,” Duncan said.
Charlotte flinched. He did not sound angry with her, but he was undoubtedly behaving oddly. It felt as though he was pushing her away. She looked at Duncan pensively, feeling the full impact of her love for him. There was nothing she would not do for him, and she wished more than ever that Helena would vanish from Duncan’s life so that she could never hurt him again.
However, Helena’s parting words hit her in full force. Charlotte tried to push down her rising panic. Logically, she knew that Helena could not have told him anything of great significance. If she had, Duncan would say or do something besides simply s
it there looking dazed and upset. Wouldn’t he?
Chapter 18
“Thank you again, Miss Becker,” Duncan said. He was vaguely aware of Christine’s awkward discomfort as she tried to console him, but he could not offer her much in the way of solace. His mind was too focused on his mother’s words, and Christine and Ruthie’s behavior over the past weeks. He could not rid his mind of terrible thoughts or shake the mood that had overcome him since speaking with his mother.
Christine looked at him, her face full of concern, and something that Duncan thought might be fear. He could not be certain, however, with his mother’s words of warning still ringing in his ears.
“I am happy to help,” she said. “If there is anything further I can do, please ask. You were so good to me when I was ill, and it is the least that I can do.”
Duncan gazed back down at his cup and nodded slowly. He wanted to open up to her about his feelings, and he wanted to completely disregard his mother’s poison, but he was still too confused to know what he should believe. The last thing he wanted was to push Christine away unjustly, but he also did not wish to be deceived. Although he was sure that his mother was the one being vindictive and deceptive, he knew that he must look at all sides of the situation and proceed with caution.
“You are very kind,” he said, more curtly than he intended. “I have everything that I need for now.”
Christine withdrew from him as though his words had stung her, and he felt guilty. However, he could not bring himself to apologize, or to tell her what was on his mind. He found himself utterly unable to express not only his gratitude for Christine’s kindness and comfort, but also his pleasure at her sitting so close to him. It was exactly what he had wanted since the very moment he had realized that he was in love with her. However, now that she was there with him, showing him such sweetness and concern, he could not rejoice. Helena had seen to that.
Helena Lancaster had never approved of the women Duncan showed an interest in, so it came as no surprise to him when she told him that she was suspicious of Christine. It seemed that his mother was always wary of someone, but, this time, something Helena had said made sense. Duncan had noticed, ever since first meeting Christine and Ruthie, that they seemed very nervous and untrusting. At first, Duncan thought it was merely the result of whatever had caused them to attempt to flee England aboard his cargo crates. As time went on, however, it became clearer that they were hiding something.
That did not stop Duncan from loving Christine. He was sure that she was the beautiful, smart, headstrong, and compassionate person she had shown herself to be. Those were things you could not feign, not with so much sincerity. He felt certain that whatever Christine was hiding could not be terrible enough to change the way he viewed her, but he wouldn’t know for sure unless she confided her secrets in him.
Suddenly, Duncan came up with an idea. He did not want to manipulate Christine, especially since his mother seemed to be doing such a wonderful job of that all on her own. He knew how he felt about Christine and was determined to find out her secrets without his mother’s interference.
All at once, Duncan decided that there was one way he could learn that information. All Christine had to do was agree to what he was about to propose. He knew that the chances were slim, and that he had his mother to blame for that. But that did not stop him from hoping that he was not too late to show Christine how important she was to him.
“My lord?” Christine said, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”
Duncan looked into her beautiful eyes. The sincere concern and affection he saw there melted his heart, and he smiled.
“As a matter of fact, there is,” he said. “Say that you will meet me this evening for a stroll on the docks.”
Christine blinked, clearly surprised by his request.
“Are you using your distress to force me to spend time with you?” she asked, her lips curving up into a smile.
Duncan shrugged.
“Perhaps,” he said. “But it just so happens that this will be a great help to my disposition, as well.”
Charlotte looked at him thoughtfully. Duncan feared that he was asking too much after her recent illness, and for a moment he considered taking back his request. Then, Christine nodded slowly.
“I think a stroll sounds lovely,” she said.
Duncan sighed with relief.
“I am glad,” he said. “Shall we meet there at about seven o’clock?”
Christine smiled.
“Seven o’clock is perfect,” she said.
“Wonderful,” he said. “Now, just one more thing.”
Christine raised her eyebrow.
“Yet another favor, my lord?” she teased.
Duncan nodded.
“Since it is almost time for you and Ruthie to finish for the day, I wish to escort you to your carriage.”
Christine laughed, and the sound made Duncan’s skin tingle.
“That would be delightful,” she said.
As they walked with Ruthie out of the door and toward the coach, Duncan could not resist taking Christine’s hand and giving it a gentle kiss as he bowed. Her eyes lit up, and she blushed. Ruthie averted her gaze, hiding a smile behind her hand.
“Until this evening, Miss Becker,” he said, as he helped her into the carriage.
Duncan watched the coach until he could not see it anymore. He was overjoyed that Christine had agreed to meet him for a walk, and he had no intention of wasting the opportunity. He determined that he would speak with Christine about her secrets. Once she had told him what she was hiding, he would ask her permission to court her.
At six o’clock, Duncan left for the docks. He knew that he would arrive early, but he was too excited and nervous to wait any longer. As the coach rolled along, he rehearsed what he would say to Christine. He wanted everything to come out just right, so that she would see how much he loved and trusted her. He needed her to trust him enough to confide in him.
When he arrived at the docks, he was surprised to see that Christine and Ruthie were already there. He saw with great pleasure that Christine was wearing one of the gowns he had given her. The maid was holding Christine’s hands, speaking to her with hushed urgency. Duncan hesitated a moment, not wishing to interrupt their conversation. After a moment, Christine looked up and spotted him. The change in her expression was instant and dramatic. She squeezed Ruthie’s hands before releasing them, beaming brightly at him. The way her smile lit up her face made Duncan’s heart soar, and he quickly approached them.
“Good evening,” he said, offering his arm to Christine. “Shall we?”
Christine gently took his arm and nodded; her cheeks flushed.
“We shall indeed, my lord,” she said.
The evening was a beautiful one. The breeze from the ocean was pleasant and cool, and the sky was streaked with the colors of the setting sun. In the fading light, Christine’s eyes were more beautiful than he had ever seen them. He did not realize that he was staring at her until she smiled at him.
“That is a rather intense gaze,” she said.
Duncan smiled sheepishly.
“I was just wondering at the sunset’s audacity to try to outdo your beauty,” he said.
Christine blushed.
“Did you ask me here merely to flatter me, my lord?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
Duncan raised his eyebrows.
“Is it working?” he asked.
Christine laughed.
“I believe that it is,” she said.
Duncan felt an overwhelming surge of love for her, and he stopped walking. When Christine followed suit, he took her hands in his.
“Truthfully, there is a different reason I invited you here,” he said. His heart was pounding, and he was more nervous than he had ever been in his life.
Christine looked surprised, but she gently squeezed his hands, rather than pulling hers free from his grasp. Duncan felt encouraged by the gesture
, and he took a deep breath.
“Christine, I love you,” he said. “I asked you here because I wanted to ask to court you.”
Christine and Ruthie gasped simultaneously. Christine studied him for several moments, and Duncan was suddenly sure that she would reject him and flee. Each second that Christine remained silent stretched into an eternity, and Duncan held his breath. Christine glanced at Ruthie, who was now standing right behind them. The maid gave Christine a pointed look, and Christine gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Then, she turned back to Duncan with a smile.
