A Wicked Scandal For The Bluestocking (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Lucinda Nelson

  He knew how he had felt about Lord Ambrose’s proposal to Charlene; the young woman must be feeling even worse about this, thinking that Eric had actually chosen to be with someone else.

  Eric hated that, but what could he do? Charlene had stormed out of there before he could explain or apologize to her. It certainly hadn’t been his idea for Annabelle to be there!

  There was no way that he could approach her now without making things worse.

  He hoped she realized that she couldn’t just barge in there like that without causing some new rumors to spread. Lady Annabelle apparently had her heart set on marrying the Duke.

  That meant that she viewed Charlene as a threat. Eric was sure that Annabelle would tell the whole town about the other woman’s repeated, still unaccompanied visit to his home, and about her outburst there.

  There was nothing Eric could do about it, though. As much as he loved Charlene, he knew that he couldn’t ruin his own reputation.

  He wasn’t going to give up on her father, though. Perhaps if he could find the evidence that proved the man innocent, Charlene would realize just how much Eric truly loved her. That even though their stations in life and her scandals meant that they could never marry, he would always think fondly of her.

  A few days later, the man Eric had investigating Harvey Parsons returned. “I’m afraid that he’s fled, my lord,” he said, bowing his head. “I of course will do everything in my power to track him down, but it will take me some time.”

  “Do whatever you can,” Eric told him, frowning. To his mind, the fact that the man had run was an open indication of the fact that he was guilty.

  The trouble was, they only had a limited amount of time before Lord Ambrose sent Dr. Ellington to hang. He had hoped that after this meeting with the investigator, he would be able to bring some concrete evidence to Charlene. Instead, there seemed to be even more questions.

  Sudden horror went through him. If Charlene didn’t realize that he was helping her, perhaps it was already too late and she had agreed to give her hand to Lord Ambrose. He knew she had no wish to be betrothed to the man, but if she thought that it was the only way to save her father, she just might do it.

  After the investigator left, Eric found himself pacing angrily in his study, unable to sit still as his thoughts whirled around in his head. He would never be able to marry Charlene, but his objection to Lord Ambrose marrying her went far beyond that.

  Charlene shouldn’t be forced against her will into a marriage because an innocent man’s life hung in the balance. There was no justice in that. Eric had to make certain that Charlene knew he was still working to prove her father’s innocence. He even had a lead now, he was sure of it.

  He knew who had done the poisoning: Harvey Parsons. He just had to figure out some way to prove it. A motive, a means.

  He hurried over to Charlene’s, aware that doing so was to break all protocol. Oh, there would certainly be whispers now. He had to talk to her, though. Dr. Ellington’s life, and Charlene’s future happiness, depended on it.

  He was shown to the sitting room. When Charlene walked in, the look of her took his breath away. She was wearing a pretty red dress, and her hair was done up elaborately. But her eyes glittered with frost, and she put her hands on her hips.

  “Just what are you doing here?” she asked him. She didn’t sound happy to see him. That was to be expected, given the way that things had gone when she had come to see him, but Eric still felt as though she had stabbed straight to his heart.

  “I had to talk to you. I might have some information that could help your father. That is, I think I know who really poisoned Lord Henrich,” Eric told her.

  Charlene looked off to the side. “It doesn’t matter,” she said distantly.

  “You haven’t already promised yourself to Lord Ambrose!” Eric said in horror.

  “I was on my way to do that now,” Charlene said, smoothing her hands across her skirts. She looked at Eric finally, her mouth a tight, unhappy line. “I’ve come to realize that even if we were able to prove Father innocent, if I scorn Lord Ambrose’s proposal, it won’t matter. He will send Father to the gallows out of revenge.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Eric promised her. “If he tries anything of the sort, I’ll make sure that the right people know about it. Such an abuse of power will not be tolerated.”

  Charlene sighed but didn’t say anything. Eric knew he had to convince her.

  “The man who did it is named Harvey Parsons,” he said. “He was the apothecary’s apprentice, and there was some connection between him and your father. I’m not entirely sure what the connection was. Any chance you might know?”

  Charlene frowned. “Harvey Parsons,” she said slowly. “The name does sound familiar, but I’m afraid I don’t know for sure who he is.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Eric said with a grimace. “I’m nearly certain that he had something to do with this incident. As soon as he realized that we were looking into his history, he fled. The trouble is, we either need the man himself to confess, or else we need irrefutable proof that he was involved.”

  Charlene shook her head. “It doesn’t sound like we’ll be able to find anything if we can’t even find the man himself,” she said. “In any case, I’ve made up my mind that I have to marry Lord Ambrose.”

  “No,” Eric said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

  “Oh, what does it matter to you anyway?” Charlene asked bitterly, turning away from the man.

  Eric put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Charlene, you must believe me,” he said urgently. “I truly do care about you. If our situations were different, I would marry you in a heartbeat.” He paused, letting that sink in. “As it is, I wish you nothing but happiness. And I know you won’t find that at the hands of Lord Ambrose.”

  Charlene looked shocked. She pulled away from him, taking two quick steps back. She looked as though she wanted to flee the room entirely, but she forced herself to stand her ground. She continued to merely stare at him, and Eric couldn’t help but feel that he had said too much.

  “Just give me a little more time to determine the connection between Harvey Parsons and your father,” he said. “That is all that I am asking.”

  Charlene found herself nodding in spite of herself. “My father kept many journals,” she said quietly. “Perhaps there is some clue about Mr. Parsons in there.”

  Eric nodded. “That would be as good a place as any to look,” he agreed. He was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. About Lady Annabelle. And everything else.”

  Charlene shook her head, her expression turning to stone. She didn’t say anything, and finally, Eric had no choice but to leave, even though it broke his heart to leave things thus between them.

  “Don’t promise anything to Lord Ambrose yet,” he said, pausing with his hand on the door. He didn’t look back at Charlene, afraid that she would be shaking her head. “Send those journals over to me if you can. I’ll see what I can find out. Have faith.”

  Then, he strode out of the house.

  Chapter 20

  Miss Charlene Ellington

  Charlene had no more tears left to cry. The next day was her father’s trial. She had wanted so badly to believe that Eric was telling the truth when he came to see her that final time. Somehow, he had found out the truth, and once he collected proof that Harvey Parsons, not her father, was the guilty man, her father would be free.

  She was still worried as to what Lord Ambrose’s reaction would be if she told him no, but she was trusting Eric to deal with things as he had promised her.

  There was a part of her that wondered if she was foolish for trusting the man. After all, she still hardly knew him, and why should he, a duke, wish to help her?

  His words were still ringing in her ears, though: I truly do care about you. If our situations were different, I would marry you in a heartbeat.

  It was the kind of thing that she had
always hoped that a man would say to her. It was the kind of thing that she had never expected a man to say to her. Especially not a man like Eric, a handsome young duke who was gentle but passionate as he kissed her.

  The kind of man who would risk his reputation to help her out.

  She sighed and looked out the window. London’s skies were grey and dreary, and it matched her mood. She had hoped that Eric would manage to come through for her, but she had heard nothing further from him since she had sent the journals over to him.

  Today was the final day for her to tell Lord Ambrose that she would marry him. She had held off for as long as she could.

  She seated herself in her room and let her maid fix her hair again. She only hoped that the elaborate style and the pretty dress would be enough to make Lord Ambrose forgive her for making him wait so long for her answer.

  There was, of course, no disguising her eyes. They were just as mismatched as they always were, one of them green and the other one blue as they stared sadly back at her from the chipped mirror that had belonged to a grandmother that Charlene had never met.

  There had been plenty of whispers about her eyes, for Charlene’s entire life. They had only gotten worse since she was found leaving the Duke’s house, however.

  It was the easiest thing for the woman to latch onto in their jealousy, Charlene knew. It was the thing that made her most different from the rest of them.

  They whispered about how she must be a witch, and how all of her lotions had only had power because she used her magic to make them effective.

  But they whispered worse things than that now, too. They whispered about how other ailments she hadn’t cured were curses from her.

  Miss Jane claimed her lank hair was due to a cursed wash that Charlene had given her. Miss Mary complained about her acne which had never cleared up, claiming it had gotten worse since she had trusted one of Charlene’s powders. And there were plenty more.

  She wondered what Lord Ambrose had made of all the rumors. She only hoped that his deal was still on the table.

  Perhaps he wouldn’t want a wife who brought quite so much drama. Perhaps he wouldn’t want to be known as the one who married the witch.

  What if he told her that he was no longer interested? Or worse, what if he accepted her engagement but still let her father hang?

  To end up without her father and married to that horrible man just wasn’t an option. Although at least it would solve the question of what she and her aunt were to do about money.

  Yet again as she went down to find her aunt and ask her to accompany her to the Marquess’ home, someone arrived at the front door. This time, it was a messenger for her aunt, but Charlene followed her aunt into the sitting room, watching as she opened the official message.

  Her eyebrows flew towards her hairline in surprise. “Your father’s trial has been put off,” she told Charlene.

  “Put off?” Charlene asked, stepping closer so that she could read the message as well. Yes, the trial had been put off. It would no longer happen the following day. They had more time.

  Hope surged through Charlene. How could the trial have been pushed to another day? Had Eric had something to do with it? She wondered if that meant that he had started to find some sort of concrete evidence against Harvey Parsons.

  She wished that she could rush straight over there to talk to him, but she knew that her aunt would never allow that. Besides, she had caused quite enough of a stir with her two previous visits. Best to let Eric sort things out on his own and send her a message when he found something out.

  There was another knock on the door, and Lord Ambrose himself was shown into the room. His lips thinned when he saw the message in Helene’s hand. “I see that you’ve heard about the trial,” he said.

  “We have,” Helene said, inclining her head towards the Marquess. “And we are very grateful that you have convinced the judge to allow us a little more time for my niece to make up her mind about your proposal.”

  “I had nothing to do with it. The order came from the top of the chain,” the Marquess said. He turned towards Charlene. “I suspect that it was the same duke who carried you to see your father. I don’t know what he thinks to gain by meddling in this situation, but you should advise him that he ought not to.”

  “He is simply trying to help. To make sure that justice is done,” Charlene told the investigator. “Anyway, if he had anything to do with the trial being put off, I don’t know about it. He and I haven’t talked since the scandal.”

  Lord Ambrose looked as though he didn’t fully believe her. He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, the scandal,” he said. “I hope you realize how lucky you are that I didn’t rescind my offer in light of the things that I have heard about you.”

  Charlene ducked her head, her cheeks flaming. Next to her, Helene made a noise in the back of her throat, but she didn’t speak.

  “As it is,” the Marquess continued, “I cannot be made a cuckold. Tell Lord Eric that he is to stay out of my business.”

  “I have no control over what the man does,” Charlene protested. “He is helping of his own accord because my father saved his life once when the duke was a boy.”

  She could see that Lord Ambrose was beginning to get angry, but Charlene refused to back down. If Eric thought that he could find the evidence that would free her father, then she wished for him to do so. She wanted her father’s name cleared, if he was to be freed. She wanted there to be undisputable proof that he was not the man that everyone was whispering that he was.

  She knew in her heart that her father wasn’t a murderer. She wanted everyone else to know that as well.

  Lord Ambrose narrowed his eyes at Charlene. “Then perhaps I should rescind my offer to marry you. As I said before, I will not be made a cuckold. I can see that everyone was right when they said you were nothing more than a…” He trailed off, looking over at Helene as though he didn’t want to say what he really felt in front of her.

  His meaning was perfectly clear, however. He was acting as though he was doing her some great favor in marrying her. And she didn’t even want to marry the man in the first place, especially not in these circumstances.

  Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She was tempted to remind him that he didn’t have the most sterling reputation himself. Or perhaps to remind him that he hadn’t even dared to propose to her until he had some way of blackmailing her into agreeing to the match.

  He hadn’t even asked her the proper way! He had waited until she was alone in the foyer. No courting, no chaperone. It wasn’t the way that things were meant to be done, but now suddenly he was acting as though she was the only one with scandal hanging over her head?

  After everything else that she had heard about herself around town, after all of those whispers (none of which were true), she finally snapped. “Lord Ambrose, you don’t need to rescind your proposal,” she said coolly. “I never would have accepted anyway. I have no wish to marry a bully such as yourself.”

  She heard Helene’s shocked gasp from behind her, but she knew that it was already too late. No amount of sweet talking or acting shy was going to convince the Marquess to marry her now. Which meant that her father could be well and truly doomed.

  She felt tears prick her eyes at that thought, but she refused to let them show. She wouldn’t let Lord Ambrose know just how scared she truly was.

  Let him think that she had full confidence in Eric’s ability to find the real evidence that they needed to prove the doctor’s innocence. In any case, at least there was an extension to the trial. If Lord Ambrose were heading to the trial on the morrow as had been the original plan, she had no doubt that her father would hang.

  As it was, Lord Ambrose was sneering at her. “Honestly, what a child you are! With such a hefty scandal hanging over your name, are you really stupid enough to refuse the one speck of redemption that you can get? Or are you so heartless that you would condemn your father to his death?”

  Charlene wanted to
duck her head in shame, but she knew that Lord Ambrose would see it as a sign of weakness. Instead, she met his gaze, challenging him with her eyes to be the one to look away first. She felt some small sense of satisfaction when he finally did, making a noise of disgust.

  “I’m willing to treat this episode as a bout of temporary insanity brought on by stress,” the Marquess told her frostily. “I know how emotional women can get. My first wife was much prone to such fits.”

  His eyes slid over to Helene. “Of course, out of graciousness to you, Lady Helene, I’ll give her one more week to change her mind regarding my proposal. I’m sure you can make her see sense.” He paused, looking back over to Charlene.

  “Otherwise, your father will hang, whatever the Duke of Havenport might have to say about it. No favors will let a man off with murder when the evidence is strong against him. Perhaps you ought to remind the duke that if he frees a despicable murderer, it will go badly for him.”