James was jealous, dammit, which was bad enough. But for Charlotte to know it… Well, it made him just that much more vulnerable. Did she think it an amusing tidbit to share with her family? Or did it make her more drawn to the man behind the letters?
That reminded him of what he needed to do at present.
“Dulcey,” he said.
“Yes, my lord.”
“What is your post here?”
“The butler, my lord,” Dulcey said with a bow and a stoic expression.
“Good, then. I won't need to remind you.”
“No, my lord.”
“You shall bring all of the countess' correspondence to me until further notice.” James held out his hand.
As if he knew exactly what James wanted, Dulcey excused himself for a moment and came back with the letter Charlotte had written to Lord Smitten. He placed it in James' open palm.
“Thank you,” James murmured. “Now send a man over to Lady Atherton's to let them know both Lord and Lady Wynn will be attending their musicale tomorrow night.”
“Yes, my lord. Anything else?”
“No. You're dismissed.”
“And you're besotted,” came a deep voice from behind James.
James spun on his heel. “Danby,” he greeted through a brittle smile, catching a glimpse of a somewhat amused-looking Dulcey from the corner of his eye. Why the blazes did the duke keep sneaking up on him? James lifted his eyebrow and Dulcey sobered.
“Wynn, I was afraid I'd have to hire a Bow Street Runner to track you down.”
“Well, then I guess I just saved you a small fortune,” James said dryly.
Danby harrumphed and tapped his cane on the floor. “I'll need every pence to purchase a more comfortable pair of boots with how long you make a man stand.”
Reluctantly, James invited the man back to his study, then grimaced the whole way as Danby groaned and grumbled about the long walk and James' hospitality, or rather, the lack thereof.
James knew the man was just trying to be cantankerous. On more than one occasion he'd been behind the man as he climbed three flights of stairs at the opera house without muttering a complaint.
“Please, make yourself comfortable and I'll ring for—”
Thwack. The door to James' study flew shut by the end of Danby's cane. “No need to order anything I don't plan to stay long.”
“Are you sure?” James feigned overwhelming concern. “You have to make the same trek to leave the house. I'd hate my face to be the last you see before you meet your maker.”
“I'm sure you would,” the duke muttered, crossing his arms.
“Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing,” James said thoughtfully. “I just might be lauded a hero.”
“The way you're trying to be one in Charlotte's eyes,” Danby asked, a smug expression on his face.
“I'm not trying to be her hero.”
“Just her husband,” Danby concluded.
James remained silent. There was no use in refuting the man's words and they both knew it.
Danby uncrossed his arms and idly polished the top of his cane. “For as much as all of my young family members pretend to hate me, they all have one other thing in common: happiness.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I think it's time I help you and Charlotte.” The twinkle in Danby's eyes made James' stomach flip.
“Thank you for your concern, but I don't think we need any help.”
Danby sorted. “Part of your statement was correct—you don't think.”
Were he anyone else, James would have delivered him a facer. “If you're done insulting me, I have somewhere else I need to be,” James lied.
“Begging for entrance at your wife's bedchamber door?” Danby frowned. “Wynn, I don't mean to be so harsh, but gads, boy, you've been married to Charlotte for three years and I cannot abide to go another Season seeing the two of you— Wait, that's just the thing. I never see the two of you anywhere!” he blustered, thumping his cane again. “I'm an old man, I may not have many years left and it will torment me from the grave if I know I exited this world without making sure my favorite niece wasn't happy.”
James doubted Charlotte was his favorite, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. If he didn't do something, and quick, he'd have the Duke of Meddlesome, as James had heard him oft referred to among some of Charlotte's cousins, poking around his house more than he already was.
“Your Grace, please rest assured, I have this well in hand and you'll be able to go to your grave—whenever that might be—in peace where Charlotte is concerned.”
“Yes, I know,” the man said quickly, too quickly. “Our conversation this afternoon has convinced me that I must make sure of it myself.”
“Pardon me? Not five minutes ago you were accusing me of being besotted with her, then you suggested to help me gain her esteem, and now you're declaring that the only way for you to die in peace is for you to meddle where you're not needed!”
“Welcome to the family, m'boy,” Danby said, tipping his head toward James, then without another word, he quit the room.
James poked his head out the door of his study, noting how quickly—and quietly—the old codger made his exit.
As soon as the man was out of his line of sight, James pulled out the missive burning a hole in his chest.
Dear Sir,
Flattery does not do justice to my knowledge that you've taken notice of me. Dare I ask where it was that you lost a little piece of your heart upon glimpsing me in my green dress?
Your Lady Fair
James gripped the edge of his desk, his mind reeling. Charlotte had been willing to show him this? How much more provoking would it have been had she known he wouldn't see it? He wouldn't think about that now, he'd write her another letter.