“Excellent.” The duke’s face relaxed a fraction while Charlotte’s stomach tightened even more. Something was most certainly not right here, not with any of them. “Lady Charlotte?” he asked. “Might I escort you inside?” Fullbridge glanced again at Francis who was leaning heavily on his walking stick. “I think our dashing Lord Underhill has played the noble hero enough for the moment, don’t you?”
“Of course, your grace.” What else could she say? No? That she wished to stay and speak with Francis, demand to know why he was being so cold and remote after confessing his passion for her only a few hours ago.
As if reading her mind, the duke patted her hand in an almost fatherly fashion. “The two of you can speak soon enough, Lady Charlotte. He has waited this long for you. A few more hours will not hurt.”
Except that they could. Charlotte knew they could. However, she had little choice but to allow the duke to lead her away from the crowd that was beginning to disperse, no sign of true scandal brewing, likely to their disappointment.
Francis watched Fullbridge lead Charlotte into the manor house. He should have spoken to her when they first awoke but he’d been so anxious to return to Havenhurst before a true scandal broke out that he hadn’t found the time. Or rather he hadn’t wanted to find the time. Then, when they were on horseback, he’d been too afraid to speak.
He wasn’t ashamed of what they had done. No, if anything he was glad he’d been the first to teach Charlotte about pleasure. He was just uncertain about what came next, even though he knew good and well what she expected would come next – a proposal of marriage.
However, there was still no word from the Bloody Duke or any of his associates regarding the whereabouts or identity of Violet Denton. He had truly hoped to hear something by now, even the vaguest of tidbits.
So Francis wasn’t certain he was in a position to offer for Charlotte, even though he would anyway in order to preserve her reputation. After all, it wasn’t as if they had to wed immediately anyway. By the time the banns were called, someone, somewhere might have news for him. He hoped.
What had seemed like such a trivial thing the night before – whether or not he was already wed – by the light of a new day seemed almost insurmountable. Not to mention the guilt that weight heavy in his stomach. He hadn’t done anything to protect her from a child. Not any of the times that they had coupled. How could he have been so stupid?
He hadn’t been thinking with his head, Francis decided, but rather his heart. He had been following his gut and his instincts as Dr. Longford had suggested. Perhaps that was not the best bit of advice to follow. Too bad he hadn’t come to that conclusion sooner.
As if knowing that Francis was thinking of him, Dr. Longford appeared from the crowd, his cravat askew as if he had hastily dressed. Perhaps he had. Francis had no idea what time it actually was. He had never found a clock at the love nest.
“The duke tells me you have injured your leg again.” Longford didn’t even offer a greeting but instead looked at Francis as if he could see all of his sins plainly written on his face.
Francis shrugged, not really caring what the other man thought just then. “I have, though my leg is better than it was last night. I am usually a bit more careful with it than I was yesterday. All of those heroics, you know.”
Longford smiled a bit. “Ah, yes. Yesterday was a confounding day for all of us, I would wager. Several of us took actions we might not have anticipated.”
That comment made no sense from an otherwise usually perfectly sensible man, but Francis was too exhausted to question the man further. Nor was the matter likely any of his concern. “A bath and a bit of rest and I will be fine. Lady Charlotte injured her leg as well, and she is, I believe, the one that needs to be attended to first.”
Except that Charlotte was walking perfectly fine this morning while Francis was…not.
“And I will attend to her next, I assure you, my lord. Still, I would like to examine you now, if you will allow it.” Longford still seemed a bit scattered, his eyes darting around until they came to rest on Cilla who was hovering just inside the front door. “Too much going wrong around here as of late.”
Francis had the distinct impression that the physician was speaking of more personal experiences than anything. He was also glad he had not formed any sort of attachment to Lady Priscilla, for he had the feeling that she had a new admirer, which was hardly surprising. What was surprising was who that admirer was. After all, she had a history with Snowly and Francis had been certain feelings still flared there. Well, he had been wrong before and likely would be again, especially regarding an affair that had naught to do with him.
“As you like, doctor,” Francis agreed wearily, allowing the other man to assist him into the house. He was quickly becoming too tired to argue, especially with Longford. The man was nothing if not tenacious. “There is nothing wrong with taking a look, I suppose.”
Francis simply hoped the doctor would not confine him to bed rest all afternoon. He had things to do, including a wedding to plan. He hoped. Provided Charlotte was willing to wait – something she hadn’t wanted to do a few days ago. Francis could only hope that her time here at the house party had changed her mind and that she was more worried about saving her reputation than arguing with him further.
Charlotte flicked at a soap bubble on the surface of the large copper soaking tub the maids had brought for her earlier. The hot water they had filled it with had long since cooled but she could not quite bring herself to get out and ring for a maid to help her dry off. For if she did that, she would have to face whatever was going on with Francis and she didn’t want to do that just yet.
Last night as he had made love to her, she had been so certain that he meant to propose when they awoke that morning. In fact, she had mentally prepared herself for the big moment. Except that no proposal had come and she did not expect one would unless he was forced into making the offer. Which he might be, given the duke’s vaguely threatening words.
However, Charlotte had wanted Francis to feel moved to propose to her of his own accord. They had shared something very special last night, something she did not believe she would ever share with another man. Had he not felt the same? Or were her niggling doubts from yesterday true? Was he already wed? Last night she had convinced herself it didn’t matter, but perhaps it did – more than she realized.
He was still keeping something from her as well. Was it another woman?
Then again, she could hardly call him out on the lie, for she was no better. She had yet to tell him about her father’s plans for her, his ultimatum, and the reason she needed to wed so quickly.
She should have told him the truth long ago or at the very least before he bedded her last night, so why hadn’t she? Charlotte had no idea.
Oh, how had they gotten themselves into this mess?
She flicked at another soap bubble. “By not speaking to each other, that is how,” she grumbled to herself. “That is how lies add up until you are so tangled up in them you cannot find your way out.”
“So true, Charlotte. So very, very true.”
“Cilla. I did not hear you come in.” Charlotte turned her head to see the other woman. “My apologies for…” She raised a still-soapy arm.
The other woman shrugged, unconcerned. “This state does not bother me if it does not bother you. I spent a good deal of time on the Continent in my youth. The women there are much less concerned with their bodies than we are.”
Well, if prim and proper Priscilla Trew did not mind Charlotte’s state of undress, then Charlotte supposed she would not mind either. Though she was still a bit uncomfortable. She was hardly a coolly sophisticated woman like Cilla.
“Not at all.” Charlotte hoped the other woman did not hear her swallow hard, almost more of a gulp. She didn’t want to appear like some kind of backward country miss.
“You are nervous.” Charlotte could hear Cilla smile. “I am not offended. I shall send in a maid and return in a
bit. Then we can talk.”
True to her word, as soon as she exited, Lady Priscilla promptly sent in a maid to attend to Charlotte. When Charlotte was finally clad in a simple dressing gown, she sent the maid out and asked to have Cilla return. Almost immediately, the woman swept back into the room and gestured for Charlotte to have a seat at the nearby dressing table while she took one of the nearby chairs.
“Better?” Cilla asked as she settled her skirts around her. “Forgive me. I know not everyone is as comfortable with their body as I am with mine.”
“I am simply overset,” Charlotte replied, still uncertain where this conversation was going – which was par for the course with Cilla, she decided silently. “That is all. Yesterday was a trying day.”
“As it was for us all. Some of us more than others, I am afraid.” Cilla did look a bit troubled but Charlotte had no idea what could have upset the other woman. She was normally so poised and unflappable. “The events of last night were confusing for us all, I think. Myself included.”
Charlotte toyed with a hairpin, twirling it between her fingers. “Nothing happened if that is what you are asking. Between Lord Underhill and I, that is.”
Cilla shook her head, her own gaze distant. “No. I am not concerned about that. As I said before, Lord Underhill and I have an understanding, and after yesterday…well, never mind. Let us just say that while he and I will likely continue to share a friendship, there is nothing more between us.” She paused meaningfully. “Unlike the two of you.”
“We didn’t,” Charlotte began but Cilla held up her hand to stop her.
“We are friends, are we not? Or at least starting to be?” Cilla tilted her head to the side.
Charlotte did not hesitate. “We are.”
“Then let us be honest, shall we? At least between us?” The other woman gave Charlotte a speaking look.
“Oh, very well,” Charlotte sighed and put the hairpin down, knowing it was time to tell someone the truth. Why not Cilla? “Yes, Lord Underhill and I spent the night alone in some sort of game keeper’s cottage.”
“Love nest,” Cilla corrected gently. “Make no mistake, that was my brother’s love nest for years.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes, finally feeling a small spark of life return to her. “Very well. We spent the night at your brother’s old love nest. Francis and I were together in a way that has been brewing between us for some time. Unfortunately, we were not…careful.” She shook her head, annoyed with herself for her missishness. “But you can see for yourself how he was with me this morning. Distant. Almost cold. He has been that way since we woke in the same bed, as if he regrets what we did together. So despite everything, there is nothing truly between us. No love or caring, only passion. I thought there was more, but it seems as if I was wrong.”
“Have you asked Lord Underhill how he feels about what the two of you did? If he regrets his actions or if this reticence is something else entirely?” Cilla asked, a small smile on her face. As if she knew more than Charlotte did. “Men are curious creatures and often need a bit of prompting to admit their feelings where we ladies are concerned.”
“No. Of course not!” How could Charlotte ask him? They did not speak of such things.
“Then perhaps you should start to speak of such things.” The other woman did her best to hide her smile.
Charlotte winced. “Did I say that aloud?”
“Yes. You did.” The other woman rose and came to kneel beside Charlotte, placing her hand on Charlotte’s arm. Cilla was brash and unconventional, but Charlotte found that she liked her immensely. She was not at all the ice queen many assumed her to be. “May I again offer you some advice?”
She should say no. Charlotte knew what she had to do and no amount of advice, no matter how wise, would change anything. Except that perhaps Cilla could see something that Charlotte herself could not. It was worth hearing her out.
Finally, Charlotte nodded. “Of course.”
“I mentioned the other night that Lord Underhill and Lord Snowly are similar men and they are.” Cilla twisted her lips. “However, after some consideration, I feel I must revise my statement. They are similar in many ways, and yet, in his soul, Lord Snowly is a different man than he was when I knew him long ago. In that way, he is not so much like Lord Underhill as I had first assumed.”
Charlotte was intrigued. Perhaps this advice was worth listening to after all. “How so?”
“Lord Snowly has changed. The Noah Acton I once knew when we were young might have done some questionable things at times, but he always retained his soul. There were some lines he would not cross. Now? I am not so certain. Those lines, I think, have blurred for him.”
“So you know of his plans for me? The ones he made with his uncle.” Charlotte swallowed hard. Another embarrassing conversation. Wonderful.
Cilla nodded sadly. “I do, and I find them more than just distasteful. They are wicked and detestable. Your father and Springford are monsters. There is no other word to describe them and they are dragging a once-fine man down with them, I fear. I also know that Noah has changed if he is willing to go along with such idiocy. The man I remember would not be so much of a libertine as to bed his uncle’s wife in order to beget an heir. But then the man who roamed the halls of this house last night is not the same Noah I remember from my youth.”
“If you know of my predicament, Cilla, then you also know why I must wed Francis, I mean Lord Underhill soon. If I don’t, I will not have a choice and I will be forced to wed Springford and be bedded by Noah.” Charlotte rose and began to pace. She did not mention her father’s plans to harm Noah if the earl did not go along with her father’s wishes in regards to providing access to funds. “For what it is worth, I have struggled with this same issue. The entire plan is foolish and demeaning.”
“But not unheard of,” Cilla broke in softly. “The Springford line would not be the first to be secured by such trickery. Titles, especially dukedoms, are quite precious.”
“I know.” Charlotte flopped down on her bed, no closer to knowing what decision to make than she was before. “Would you do it? Wed one man and bed another, I mean.”
Cilla shrugged and once more, her eyes took on that faraway look. “I am not certain. As women, we have little say in our own lives. If pushed or given no other choice? Then perhaps.” She paused, fingering a jeweled comb that had been left behind on a nightstand. “And you are certain Francis will not wed you? Even after the two of you spent the night alone? For you have to know that my brother will push for a marriage between you two and likely accept nothing less.”
“Oh, I do not doubt that he will,” Charlotte sighed, a weariness starting to creep over her. “And Francis swears that he will marry me. Eventually. However, that is time I do not have. After last night, I do believe that he still cares for me, which I doubted until then, but he is also still keeping secrets from me. Something important.”
“As you are from him,” Cilla added gently. “Talk to him, Charlotte. Tell him about your father and Springford’s plan. Coax his secrets out of him as well. Yes, you may have to compromise, but I have seen the way the two of you look at each other. There is a great depth of feeling between you. Do not allow secrets to destroy those feelings and do not be tempted by a handsome face just because you might believe it the easier path, no matter how distasteful at first.”
Charlotte fell silent. Could this decision truly be that easy? Somehow she didn’t think so, but perhaps it was time to give honesty a try. After all, everything else had failed so far. What did she have left to lose, really?
“You are right, of course,” Charlotte admitted slowly. “I know that you are. How did you get to be so wise?”
Cilla gave a self-depreciating smile. “Years of mistakes, I am afraid.” She sat down beside Charlotte on the padded bench. “Just remember that if you feel backed into a corner, I am here to help as much as I am able. I like you, Charlotte, and I believe we could be good friends. I do not have many o
f them, I fear. I know what others think of me. I am not deaf or blind or stupid, much as others like to pretend that I am.”
Charlotte squeezed Cilla’s hand. “Friends. I would like that.” She bit her lip. “And if Francis refuses to wed me now and you cannot help me as much as you might wish?”
Cilla looked off into the distance again and once more Charlotte wondered what had happened here last evening. Whatever had happened, it was not good. “Then, as long as you can live with yourself, I would ask Noah to wed you. He will not be faithful to you, but I think you know that.”
“I do.” Charlotte was no longer under any such illusion. “He has even admitted as much to me.”
Once more, the other woman nodded. “However, at his heart, I believe Noah is still a good man, though he does his best to hide it. As a husband, he will treat you well and be kind to you. He will likely never love you, for I do not believe he is capable of such emotions any longer, but he will be a decent husband. Of that, I have no doubt.”
Just then, Charlotte wished she had as much faith in the matter as her friend did. She also wanted to know how Cilla was so certain about all of this, almost as if she knew exactly what Noah was thinking and feeling.
“We will see. Though first, I will take your advice and speak with Francis.” Charlotte could see no way around that.
“You have everything to gain and, given your situation, very little to lose,” Cilla replied as she squeezed Charlotte’s hand in comfort. “Francis loves you. I know that he does.”
Charlotte sincerely hoped that was true. For while she would tolerate being wed to Noah, she would much rather be married to Francis. Only he didn’t know that yet. But he would. It was time to stop playing games, starting now. So long as she could work up the courage to tell him. For an otherwise brash woman, Charlotte was beginning to realize she was exceedingly shy when it came to discussing important matters with the man she loved.
A Lady to Desire Page 20
