Lady Charlotte's First Love

by Anna Bradley

  “But if he’s not motivated by passion, then what?” asked Lissie. “Why should he come to your box at all and follow us to a gaming hell? No one wants a game of piquet that badly, for goodness’ sake.”

  Charlotte exhaled a slow, patient breath and tried to gather her wits. “Don’t you see, Lissie? Cam and Ellie are convinced I remain in London for Lord Devon. They think Captain West can intimidate Devon into abandoning his pursuit. Once Devon drops me, they think I’ll leave wicked old London behind and toddle obediently off to the country.”

  Annabel snorted. “They don’t know Devon very well, do they? If that’s their plan, then you have nothing to fear from Captain West, Charlotte. Devon is like a hound on a scent. An extremely handsome and divinely wicked hound, that is. He won’t abandon a thing until he’s good and ready.”

  It was true, and it wasn’t even just that. Devon was her friend—a true friend, and he became more tempting by the second. He might be wicked, but he was also clever and scrupulous in his loyalties. If she decided to take advantage of his offer, he’d tear apart anyone who threatened her.

  “Do you mean to say the Captain and Devon will become rivals for Charlotte’s affections?” Aurelie’s eyes widened. “Oh, how exciting! Do you suppose they’ll fight a duel over her?”

  Charlotte resisted the urge to tear her hair out in frustration. “No! Of course not. Captain West doesn’t care a fig for me, Aurelie, and Devon—well, Devon is far too quick to fall for the Captain’s ruse. He’ll do what he will, regardless of Captain West’s nonsense.”

  “But is it truly nonsense, Charlotte?” Annabel gave her a considering look. “Perhaps Captain West doesn’t know his own mind as well as he thinks he does.”

  Dear God. Now what? “What does that mean?”

  “I saw his face last night after you fled the gaming hell. He looked quite wild. He may think he acts only on your family’s behalf, while in truth his reasons are far more…tender.”

  Both Lissie and Aurelie nodded.

  “I’d think you’d want to know it if he does truly care for you,” Annabel said. “Why not let it play out and see what happens? Perhaps history will repeat itself, after all.”

  Charlotte let her head fall into her hands. No matter what she said her friends simply refused to see it. Like the rest of London, they couldn’t get past Julian’s handsome face and the tales of his bravery and heroism.

  Annabel was still talking. “Perhaps I should invite Captain West to my rout tonight? Devon will be there, and we can see—”

  “No.” Charlotte raised her head. “Don’t you see? It will only encourage him to bedevil me further. I tell you, if we simply disregard him, he’ll give up the chase soon enough—”

  A quiet knock on the drawing room door interrupted her. At her summons, Nelson stepped into the room and bowed. “I beg your pardon for the interruption, my lady, but Miss Amelia and Captain West are here.”

  Annabel raised her eyebrows at Charlotte. “Perhaps he will give up the chase, but it won’t be today.”

  “Not today and not ever, Annabel—not if you insist upon extending invitations to him. I shall have no peace if you do.” Even now in her own home she had no peace, for as Julian no doubt anticipated, she’d never turn Amelia away. “Show them in, Nelson.”

  Nelson bowed out of the room, and a few minutes later Amelia darted in. “Charlotte! Oh, how lucky we found you at home. I do so want to have a ride in Hyde Park with you, for we leave for Bellwood very soon, you know, and we won’t have a chance to ride together for months and months, and uncle Julian said he’d escort us, and I have my new riding habit, you see, and—oh!” Amelia spied the widows and sank into a hasty curtsey. “Good afternoon.”

  Julian strolled in after Amelia, and drat him, he looked nothing like a false, deceitful, manipulative, ruthless scoundrel. His tall, lean frame was made for riding attire. He was devastating in his tight breeches and bottle green riding coat. The widows were apparently struck speechless by this paragon of masculinity, for they simply stared at him without uttering a word.

  The corner of Julian’s mouth twitched, and he swept them an elaborate bow. “Good afternoon, ladies. I do hope we’re not interrupting?”

  Annabel recovered first. “Good afternoon, Miss West. Captain West.”

  Lissie and Aurelie managed proper curtsies, but they gazed at Julian with such avid glee they looked like two naughty girls caught giggling during the church service. “Did you enjoy yourself last night, Captain?” Lissie shot Charlotte a sly glance. “You seemed to be quite taken with, ah, piquet.”

  “Amelia,” Charlotte interrupted. “You left your gloves here the other day. I believe Sarah has them. Won’t you go find her?”

  Once Amelia was gone, Julian turned his gaze upon Charlotte. “I enjoyed myself immensely, Lady Symthe. Piquet is rather captivating, isn’t it? I was quite mesmerized.”

  “But you left in such a hurry, Captain.” Aurelie nudged Charlotte. “Something tore you away rather suddenly, I think?”

  Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest. “Anxious to escape with your ill-gotten winnings, no doubt.” He’d wagered and won fairly, but perhaps the insult to his honor would goad him into a temper, or at least an unattractive frown, and then the widows would see what he was really like—

  “Charlotte!” Annabel gasped.

  “It’s all right, Lady Tallant. Lady Hadley regrets the loss of her necklace.” Julian reached into his waistcoat pocket and drew out the amethyst choker, his face so soft with concern when he held it out to her, for a moment even Charlotte believed him sincere. “I meant to return this last night, but if you recall I became distracted.”

  Lissie smothered a giggle at Charlotte’s quelling look. “I don’t recall anything of the sort, Captain.”

  “Ah, well.” He gave her a suggestive smile. “Perhaps I wasn’t the only one who was distracted. But I can’t imagine any other lady could do justice to such a lovely necklace. I could never deprive you of it, Lady Hadley.” He took her hand and draped the necklace over her palm.

  The widows let out an audible sigh.

  Charlotte closed her numb fingers around the choker. Dear God. He was far too good at this.

  Annabel cleared her throat and came forward to kiss Charlotte on the cheek. “We’ll see you tonight, dearest.” They made their way into the hallway and collected their gloves and bonnets from Nelson, but Annabel turned back just before the butler ushered them out the door. “Oh, and Charlotte? Do extend an invitation to my rout tonight to Captain West, won’t you?”

  Charlotte’s heart sank like a stone. She wouldn’t invite him, but it hardly mattered. He’d be there, and not just tonight, but every night until he drove her out of London.

  Amelia came back into the room as the widows disappeared through the front door and into Aurelie’s waiting carriage. “You will come riding this afternoon, won’t you, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte turned to Amelia with a guilty smile. She did intend to ride this afternoon, but not with Julian. “Oh Amelia, I’m afraid not. I have an engagement this evening, and so much to do—”

  “Oh.” Amelia’s dark eyes, so eager only moments before clouded with disappointment.

  Julian snapped his riding crop against his boot. “Don’t look so glum, Amelia. You’ll be back in London in, what? Another six months for next year’s season? I’m sure your sister will have time for you then, and you and I can still go today.”

  Charlotte slid Julian a resentful look. Would he stop at nothing to achieve his ends? She had all the time in the world for her young sister, and she didn’t want Amelia to think otherwise.

  “But Charlotte knows all about the fashions on display on the promenade. Do you know anything about fashions, Uncle Julian?” Amelia’s tone betrayed her deep skepticism.

  “Fashions? I can tell you all about the gentlemen’s boots, if you li
ke.”

  “Gentlemen’s boots! What is there to know about gentlemen’s boots one way or another?”

  Julian looked a bit offended. “Quite a lot, as it happens, such as whether they’re Hoby, or—”

  “I’ll change into my riding habit,” Charlotte interrupted, resigned. She had no wish to spend the afternoon with Julian, but she couldn’t disappoint Amelia on her last week in London, or in good conscience doom her young sister to a lecture on gentlemen’s boots.

  “I believe Lady Tallant said something about a rout?” Julian asked, once they were all mounted and riding down Grosvenor Street toward Park Lane.

  Charlotte kept her eyes on Amelia, who rode just ahead of them. “It’s nothing you’d be interested in. Just a few notables from the demimonde, along with some ne’er-do-wells from the outer fringes of the ton. Not your people at all, I’m afraid. Not a hero amongst them.”

  “It sounds delightful. What time shall I fetch you?”

  “You shouldn’t. I haven’t extended an invitation to you.”

  “Ah, but Lady Tallant has, and I will attend, so you may as well let me escort you.”

  If he escorted her tonight, he’d escort her tomorrow night, and the next, and every night thereafter, until her last refuge became no refuge at all. “No. I want you to stop this, Captain.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Lady Hadley. Stop what?”

  “Stop trailing about after me as if I were some kind of criminal. Stop lying to my friends.”

  For a long moment there was only the clop of the horses’ hooves against the cobblestones, but at last Julian spoke. “Cam and Ellie are eager to have you come to Bellwood. Perhaps you should go. Put an end to this chase and simply do as they wish.”

  Perhaps you should go. So simple. The solution always was to those who didn’t understand the problem, and she couldn’t explain it to them, because it had become so bent and twisted inside her even she didn’t understand it. She knew only that she didn’t plan anymore, but acted as best she could at each given moment. She had no idea when she’d be ready to leave London. She only knew it wasn’t today. “Cam and Ellie don’t understand what’s best for me right now.”

  “Do you?”

  Charlotte might have been reassured if his tone were harsh or angry—she might have been able to convince herself he still had some flicker of feeling for her, some pale, ghostly remnant of what they’d once shared, but he was detached, even faintly amused.

  A chill settled over her heart. She didn’t want to confide in him. She didn’t want him in her head, probing at her secrets, but if she told him just enough of the truth to make him understand, perhaps… “I cannot go back to Bellwood. I will not.”

  “Which is it? You cannot, or you will not?”

  “It amounts to the same thing. I will not, because I can’t. Not yet.”

  “Oh? When, then? Next week, or next year? Or never?”

  “I don’t know.” She hesitated, because she didn’t want to say the next words, but if they would move him at all, she had to. “If you ever cared for me, Julian, even just a little, then please—leave me alone.”

  Charlotte kept her face blank and her gaze focused on Amelia’s back, but her breath stopped in her lungs as she waited for his answer.

  Was it enough? Enough to persuade him?

  He hesitated just long enough for her heart to leap with hope, but then he turned to her with a smile—that same easy smile that so charmed her friends. “Forgive me, but you never said what time I should collect you this evening.”

  It hadn’t changed, his smile. But everything behind it had.

  He wasn’t going to listen to her. He wasn’t going to stop, and he’d proved he could manipulate the only friends she trusted—her wicked widows.

  The only friends she trusted, but one. She still had one friend who wouldn’t be taken in by Julian—a friend who’d proved his loyalty to her beyond the shadow of a doubt.

  She still had Devon.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You haven’t answered my question, Lady Hadley.”

  She hadn’t, and she didn’t now, but rode quietly next to him, her face expressionless. The dark blue ribbons on her hat fluttered in the breeze, but everything else about her was still. She looked neither right nor left, but kept her gaze fixed on Amelia, who ambled along ahead of them.

  If you ever cared for me, even just a little…

  If it had cost her an effort to say it, it didn’t show on her face.

  Julian tried again. “Do you object to the evening’s entertainment? I grant you a rout is not as exciting as a whorehouse frolic, but with Lady Tallant as our hostess there’s bound to be a scandal or two to keep you entertained.”

  Still no answer. She didn’t look at him, but he thought he could see haughty resistance in the set of her lips and her rigid posture.

  The marchioness was not pleased.

  Well. He’d made himself perfectly clear, then. It was futile for her to stay in London. He’d follow her everywhere, attend every entertainment until Devon gave up the chase and moved on to the next widow who caught his eye. Julian doubted the man would waste much time hunting down easier quarry. Devon didn’t look like the sort who’d deny himself his pleasures for long.

  It was as good as done, and despite her sullen silence, Charlotte knew it as well as he did. “Or perhaps you prefer to skip the rout altogether? I doubt you’ll find much pleasure in it.”

  At last she turned to look at him. “Oh? Why should that be? I suppose your think your presence makes that much of a difference to me.”

  “I know it does. Lady Tallant extended the invitation to me despite your protests, I believe.”

  Charlotte lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t deny I’d rather not have your company, but if you think to send me scurrying off to the country to avoid you, you’ll be sadly disappointed. I won’t let you chase me away from my friends, Captain.”

  “Ah. Stubborn to the bitter end. But make no mistake, my lady. This is the bitter end, whether you choose to admit it or not. Lady Tallant insisted upon having me tonight. She’ll insist again, and so will your other two friends. It’s telling how quickly they disregard your wishes. Perhaps you’re not such loyal friends, after all?”

  “It’s to your benefit to make me doubt them.” She’d perfected that careless tone, but her fingers twitched nervously on the reins. “My friends are taken in by you. I offer my congratulations on a role well played, Captain. You set out to charm them, and you succeeded.”

  “Taken in? So dramatic, my lady. You make me sound a villain, and your friends dull indeed. Are they so lacking in penetration they can’t tell the truth from a lie?”

  “Or a hero from a liar? My friends may have more experience with liars than most, but they see you the way all of London sees you. You’re a hero, after all, and heroes can’t be liars, can they?”

  Julian stiffened as he always did at any mention of his supposed heroics. “I’ve no idea, Lady Hadley. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “It doesn’t signify. As I told you last night, I’ve little use for heroes, and even less use for liars. The point is my friends believe you truly care for me, and so they believe they’re acting in my best interests.”

  “Perhaps I am. Have you even considered that possibility?”

  Her gaze snapped to his face, and she let out an incredulous laugh. “My goodness. Is that what you tell yourself, Captain? That you’re engaged in some heroic battle to save me from myself? First England, and now the Marchioness of Hadley. Well, the scandal sheets certainly think so, and it’s a far more entertaining story than the truth.”

  He frowned. If the scandal sheets had picked up on this nonsense, there was a chance Jane Hibbert might hear of it. Damn it. Was there no limit to how far Charlotte’s chaos could reach? “What is the truth, my lady? That you�
�re better off sneaking into whorehouses in London with the wicked widows, while Lord Devon pants after you, awaiting an opportunity to make you his lover? You lie to yourself if you call that the truth.”

  “I don’t toy with the truth anymore, Captain, but one can’t say the same for you. You might want to be careful with that. Didn’t you pay attention to the play last night? ‘The truth will out.’”

  Whatever the bloody hell that meant.

  He didn’t ask. She’d find herself bundled into Cam’s carriage on her way to Bellwood soon enough, and that would be an end to the entire mess. He’d be rid of her and her endless dramas, and free to court Jane properly. After more than a year of turmoil, peace was within his grasp at last.

  He urged his horse forward with a tap of his heel, intending to leave Charlotte behind and join Amelia. “Send word to Bedford Square what time you wish me to fetch you tonight.”

  “No need. I told you, Captain West. I don’t wish for your escort this evening.”

  Devil take her. He drew back hard on the reins and his horse stopped, but it was too late to force the black anger back into its cage behind his ribs. “This evening, or any other? I’m surprised to find you so fastidious about the company you keep. I did discover you in a whorehouse not three days ago, mingling with Mrs. Lacey’s doxies.”

  She was several paces ahead of him now, but she turned to say over her shoulder, “Mrs. Lacey’s doxies have no specific interest in me. I can’t say the same of you.”

  The poison, black as pitch, rose like bile inside him until he could taste it at the back of his throat. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but any specific interest I had in you came to an abrupt end when you married the Marquess of Hadley.”

  He braced himself for her sharp rejoinder, but she remained strangely silent, her body rigid in the saddle, as if she expected to be thrown to the ground at any moment. He kneed his horse forward to catch up to her, but as soon as he saw her face his blood went cold.

  Every trace of the haughty, selfish Marchioness had vanished, and in her place was Charlotte, only Charlotte, all pretense stripped away. She looked…broken, somehow. Lost. Lost inside a blank silence that nevertheless throbbed with a pain he hadn’t expected, and didn’t understand.