Seduced at Sunset (Love at Pembroke Palace Book 6)

by Julianne MacLean

  Mrs. Torrington stood up. “Lady Charlotte, you are not hearing me.”

  Charlotte also stood. “What is it, exactly, that you wish me to hear, madam? I prefer frank words, if you please.”

  They stared at each other fixedly.

  “Very well, then,” Mrs. Torrington said. “I know all about your secret meetings with my son. Obviously, I am shocked and scandalized by the nature of your acquaintance. I assure you he did not come home to enter into a cheap and torrid affair with a desperate spinster. He has been through enough. Therefore, I respectfully suggest that you end it immediately and keep away from him, otherwise you will soon find your reputation in ruins—whatever is left of it—when word of this gets out. I advise you to return to the country and stay there. For pity’s sake, Lady Charlotte, go home and behave yourself.”

  Charlotte frowned with disbelief. “How dare you.”

  Mrs. Torrington’s cheeks turned red. “It’s over. He doesn’t want to see you anymore.”

  “I don’t believe you. Where is he?”

  “Oh, dear girl. Spare yourself the humiliation. Go back to Pembroke and forget him.”

  Feeling numb with shock, Charlotte stared vigilantly at Mrs. Torrington. This made no sense at all. Charlotte was not some cheap harlot. Perhaps Mrs. Torrington was simply a controlling woman who could not bear for her son to be happy on his own. Or perhaps she truly was scandalized by Charlotte’s modern attitudes and self-reliance—both sexually and socially—for Charlotte was independent and had earned her own fortune through her creative ingenuity.

  “I believe we are done here,” Charlotte said. “Good day, Mrs. Torrington.” She turned and walked out.

  It was not until she climbed into the curricle that she paused to consider all the hideous things that woman had just said to her.

  ‘He doesn’t want to see you… Spare yourself the humiliation.’

  Charlotte remembered how she had felt that morning when Drake did not arrive to take her rowing on the river. Was it true? Was she a desperate spinster, blind to the fact that he had only wanted her for one thing, and now he was done with her?

  She squeezed her reticule in her hands. No. She would not accept that.

  Yes, her heart had become involved, which had never been part of the plan. But so had his. She was certain of it. His mother was wrong.

  Oh, God! Charlotte had wanted so badly to admire the woman—and for the feeling to be mutual—for she was Drake’s mother. The person who had brought him into the world. The reason he had returned to England.

  Why was she so dreadfully mean?

  Charlotte slumped back in her seat, barely able to comprehend what just occurred. And what in the world was she going to do about it?

  Chapter 19

  Adelaide wasn’t sure if she would see William that afternoon at the Ladies’ Hospital Auxiliary Garden Party. She had mentioned in her last letter that she would be attending, but she had not heard back from him. Nevertheless, she had donned her most flattering afternoon dress—a slim-fitting coral affair with a light draping about the skirt, and a collar of antique lace with a fashionable hat and matching fan.

  To her surprise, William was giving a speech about the new hospital wing just as she arrived. The sound of his voice—so deep and authoritative—made her feel as if she stood on shaky ground.

  In all these years, he had not lost his masculine appeal, and his intelligence was still overwhelmingly attractive to her. For years she had buried her awareness of him as a man, for she was a married woman and that had decided her path. But something had changed this past summer. They were older now, but oh, she felt like a young girl again in his presence. Her belly turned somersaults and her heart fluttered like a butterfly whenever she saw him.

  His gaze found hers just as he finished the speech. There was a round of muted gloved applause on the sunny lawn. Then he disappeared into the crowd to speak to the hosts and other officials.

  A short while later, a footman came by and offered Adelaide a glass of lemonade. She took it from the shiny tray and clicked open her fan to cool her cheeks.

  “Your Grace...” William’s voice brushed over her like a refreshing breeze off the water. She turned and faced him.

  “How wonderful to see you, William. Your speech was very inspiring.”

  “I’m glad you came,” he said.

  His eyes sparkled in the sunlight and she was overcome by a deep affection for him, which rose up within her like an overflowing cup of wine. If there had been any doubt in her mind that she loved this man as much, if not more, than she had loved him in her youth, it was gone now. Her true feelings were no longer smothered beneath her sense of duty and all the painful regrets of the past. All of that was behind her now as she stood before him on this bright, shimmering summer’s day.

  “Would you care to take a walk over to the dessert table?” he asked. “They tell me there is a cake large enough to feed all of Mayfair.”

  Adelaide smiled and slipped her arm through his. “That sounds positively delicious.”

  As they walked together, they spoke of things they had corresponded about in their daily letters. Adelaide asked about his patients, and he asked about Charlotte’s gentleman caller.

  “He was delightful,” Adelaide said. “We all thought the world of him, and he beat Vincent at billiards, which impressed everyone considerably. But the most wonderful part was the joy I saw in Charlotte’s eyes every time they were together. I have not seen her look so happy in years. She came alive again, William. I only hope something will come of it, and she won’t be disappointed.”

  “Love can be unpredictable,” he said, “but Charlotte is an extraordinary woman and very strong. Whatever happens, I have every confidence that she will find what she is looking for. She has so much bounty in her life. I am proud of her. You raised her well, Adelaide.”

  They reached the dessert table and Adelaide let go of his arm. Another footman served them each a slice of lemon cake on small china plates. They wandered off to enjoy it beneath the shade of a tall sycamore tree.

  While they talked of different things, Adelaide began to feel all tangled up inside. William had always been a devoted friend. And now it looked like that’s all he would ever wish to be.

  Before she realized what she was saying—she really should have thought it through—she was clearing her throat and setting down her fork. “Do you have plans for dinner this evening?” she asked. “It is only Charlotte, Garrett, and me at the London house. We would love for you to join us.”

  For a number of seconds that moved slower than chilled honey, he gave no reply. Adelaide wanted to disappear under the dessert table.

  “I appreciate the invitation,” William said at last, “but I do have plans. I have theater tickets with…a friend.”

  Adelaide knew instantly that he was seeing his lady tonight. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice—for she knew him too well. He felt awkward and uncomfortable. She simply couldn’t bear it.

  “Perhaps another time, then,” she courteously replied. “Charlotte and Garrett always love to see you.”

  Nothing was quite the same after that, and Adelaide wanted to kick herself for imagining that they could ever go back to what they once were. She was a grown woman, not some young debutante—and how many times had she told herself there was too much history that could not be undone?

  Heaven knew she deserved this disappointment. She deserved to be jilted by William for all the times she had given him hope, only to disappoint, to go back to the duke.

  It was time to let this go, she decided. To let William go. She had chosen her path many years ago. Now she must live with that choice.

  “Mother, you look like you have been trampled by a herd of cattle,” Charlotte said when she entered the drawing room before dinner. “What happened? Your eyes are all puffy.”

&nbs
p; “It’s nothing,” Adelaide replied, dabbing at them with a handkerchief.

  “Do not say it is nothing when clearly something is wrong. Please tell me.” Charlotte took hold of Adelaide’s hand.

  At last, her mother explained. “Very well, then. If you must know, I am not as indifferent about William seeing this other woman as I have led you to believe. I saw him at the garden party today, and my heart nearly beat out of my chest. He was so handsome. So charming.”

  Charlotte squeezed her mother’s hand and gently laughed. “That comes as no shock to me, Mother. I never believed you were indifferent. Not for a single second.”

  “Well,” she replied, “I am going to have to learn to be, for I made a fool of myself today.”

  “How so?”

  “I invited him to join us for dinner, and there was an excruciating silence while he looked at me with regret. Then he told me he couldn’t come because he had other plans with… his lady friend.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Oh, look at me. What a fool I am. You would think, at my age…”

  “Don’t be silly, Mother. You are as youthful as you ever were, and are you certain he was seeing his lady friend tonight? Perhaps it was something else. Something to do with a patient at the hospital.”

  Adelaide shook her head. “No, he mentioned theater tickets. I could sense what it was, and he knew I did.”

  Charlotte sat back and sighed. How immensely disappointing. She had hoped her letter to William might change things, but perhaps she was a bigger fool than anyone with all her lofty dreams of happy endings, for both herself and her parents. Like Adelaide, Charlotte’s day had been unpleasant—and still, there was no word from Drake. She felt rejected and humiliated. And angry—mostly with his beastly mother.

  Was Drake aware of his mother’s knowledge of their affair? Had he known the sorts of things she intended to say to Charlotte? She struggled to give him the benefit of the doubt, even while the sensible part of her brain was telling her to give up hope.

  Perhaps she and Adelaide should go back to Pembroke Palace and ponder lessons learned.

  “It appears both of our matchmaking schemes have turned out to be colossal failures,” Charlotte said.

  “What do you mean?”

  She sighed. “I went to see Mr. Torrington today, but he was not at home. At least I do not think he was. Instead I met his mother, who told me that he didn’t want to see me anymore, and I should go back to Pembroke and forget about him. She also warned me that he had a violent streak. Then she called me a desperate spinster.”

  “She did not!”

  “She did.”

  Adelaide took a moment to consider this information. In the end, her reaction was peaceful, as it always was. “Oh my dear,” she said. “I know it is difficult, but you must find a way to be compassionate and forgiving. Mrs. Torrington must be a very unhappy woman indeed to say such things to you. We do not know what kind of life she has led, for we have not walked in her shoes. Perhaps she is lonely and is afraid of losing her son.”

  Charlotte shook her head doubtfully. “Her son, who has been out of the country for twelve years? No, I do not think that is it. And I was certainly not compassionate this afternoon. I was furious with her. By some miracle I managed to keep a cool head, and I walked out.”

  Her mother leaned forward. “I am proud of you for keeping your head. That is what matters.”

  Charlotte leaned close and kissed her mother on the cheek. “If you only knew how much I admire you… You are the best woman I know.”

  “If only William thought so,” Adelaide said with a sigh that broke Charlotte’s heart.

  She squeezed her hand again. “If he doesn’t think so, then he is not as brilliant as we think he is. He is a complete imposter, I’d say.”

  Adelaide managed a smile.

  Charlotte remembered telling William that she would honor his choice, whatever it was, but that would be easier said than done if he chose the other woman.

  Charlotte wondered what the other woman looked like. Was she as charming, beautiful, and kind-hearted as Adelaide? The woman must be truly wonderful indeed, if William were inclined to take her as his first choice.

  It was almost nine o’clock when Drake arrived home and stepped out of his coach. Looking up at the townhouse with all the windows ablaze with light, he tried to recall a time in the past when he was happy there, but he could not. His childhood had been colored by abuse, for he had a bully for a father and a mother who had been too frightened to stand up to her husband, even for her son.

  Then his adulthood was darkened by grief following the deaths of his sisters and the loss of his beloved wife—the woman who had pulled him out of all the wretchedness and shown him love and happiness for the first time. The pain of that loss had been impossible to bear.

  This was followed by years of violence in the boxing ring, the barbaric cheering of the crowd when bones cracked and blood splattered.

  Purging those memories from his mind, he took in a deep breath of clean summer air and reminded himself that that life was behind him now. He had traveled to America to cleanse himself of it and wipe the slate clean. The past twelve years had done just that, and here he was, home again—and miraculously, it felt like he was being offered a new beginning.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small velvet bag. Slipping his fingers into the drawstring opening, he withdrew the diamond ring he had purchased that afternoon and tried to imagine what he would say to Charlotte when he presented it to her.

  More importantly, what would she say?

  He looked up at the front of the house again. Perhaps everything was about to change. Perhaps this could be a place of joy after all.

  When he climbed the steps and opened the door, however, the terrible sound of woeful sobs hit him like a bag of rocks and sent his stomach into a whirlwind of dread. He had heard his mother weep like that only once before—when his sisters slipped away, both of them, in a single afternoon.

  Drake was startled by the appearance of the butler before him.

  “Welcome home, Mr. Torrington,” the man said, as if nothing were amiss. “May I take your hat?”

  Drake quickly removed it and handed it over. “What has happened?”

  “I do not believe it is my place to say, sir. Your mother is in her boudoir if you wish to see her.”

  Drake thanked him and climbed the stairs, taking two at a time to the top. He rapped a knuckle on the door. “Mother, may I come in?”

  The wailing stopped instantly, and he waited, tensely, for her to respond.

  The door opened and she stood before him with tear-stained cheeks, a red nose, and tousled hair.

  “Are you all right?” Drake asked with concern.

  “No!” she shouted and returned to the bed. She climbed onto it, curled up on her side, and blew her nose.

  “You must tell me what has happened.” Drake followed her inside and circled around the bed. He pulled up a chair. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing!” she yelled. “No one can do anything. It is a lost cause.”

  “What is?”

  “My happiness. Dr. Thomas came to escort me to the theater tonight, but then he walked into the parlor and told me that it would be best if we did not go after all, for he did not wish to toy with my affections any longer.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Dorothea sat up and threw her handkerchief over the foot of the bed. “He ended our courtship. I will never see him again!”

  “Why?” Drake asked. He was under the impression they would soon be engaged. It was one of the reasons he had come home—to secure his mother’s finances and to meet Dr. Thomas and assure himself that the man was not a fortune hunter. That he was a decent and honorable fellow. Drake had met him on three separate occasions and had satisfied himself that the doctor was all of those thing
s. He then made sure his mother would continue to maintain control of her own money, which Drake had placed in trust for her.

  He had thought very highly of Dr. Thomas and had no reason to suspect he would behave in such an ungentlemanly manner.

  Drake stood up and squeezed his hands into fists. “This happened tonight?”

  “Yes. An hour ago.”

  “Did he give you any explanation? Did he not realize there was an understanding between you?”

  “No! Yes! I don’t know! I was so shocked, I cannot even remember what he said!”

  Drake’s blood began to boil. How could he have misjudged Dr. Thomas and taken him for a man of honor? To lead his mother down a merry path all Season long, and to encourage her affections… It went beyond the pale.

  Drake strode toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” his mother cried.

  “Out.”

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Drake pounded on the door to Dr. Thomas’s medical offices, knowing full well that the man was not there, for all the windows were dark. He continued to pound because it took the edge off.

  Next Drake tried the doctor’s private residence in Mayfair but was told he was at the theater with Mrs. Torrington. The servants had no idea when he might return and were baffled to learn that Dr. Thomas was not, in fact, at the theater with Drake’s mother. Which was exactly why Drake was so insistent upon seeing him.

  With growing frustration, Drake returned to his coach, climbed inside, and tapped his fingers upon his thigh. He had come home from the jeweler with high hopes for a pleasant trip to Pembroke Palace in the morning, but this disagreeable business had cast a large, dark shadow over his mood. His mother was in tears and heartbroken. How could he board a train in the morning and leave her behind, while he went to propose to a woman she did not approve of?