Chapter Eighteen

Charlotte entered Jacob’s office and stopped short.

The two men stood, Jacob shifting from one foot to the other. Bringing Chadley into this was a calculated risk, and he had been aware that Charlotte would be angry, but after his discussion with Lady Morris, he also knew they needed more help than he could offer.

“What are you doing here?” She directed her question toward Chadley but glared at Jacob, his betrayal clear in her angry look.

“Lord Ashland asked me to come,” Chadley said.

“Why?”

“I think we need help,” Jacob said.

She looked at Chadley again, then back at Jacob. “You told him, didn’t you?”

Jacob hesitated. “Yes.”

Tears filled her eyes. “How could you?”

“I spoke to your aunt this morning.” He spoke quickly.

“You did what?” Her whispered words came through bloodless lips. “Is there no end to your deception?”

“Charlotte—” Chadley said, but Jacob held out his hand to stop him.

“I had to know,” he said to her. “Sometimes knowing your enemy is the best defense, and I needed to know more about her.”

“I know all there is to know about her and about her son.”

“She’s claiming that you are feeble-minded and not fit to take care of yourself.”

Charlotte hesitated but did not seem surprised. “I was afraid she would do something like that.”

He told her all of the conversation just like he had told Chadley. Both he and Chadley were concerned for Charlotte’s safety, and the marquess agreed that something needed to be done about it. Something drastic.

“She is going to try to convince people that I am a raving lunatic, and they will force me to return to her, and she will make sure that I am forever silenced,” she whispered.

“That is why I asked Lord Chadley to help us. You have no one to defend you. She kept you away from everyone for so long that there is no character witness we can use.”

Her fingers were folded into fists at her sides. “This proves more than anything that I need to leave England. I’ll be much safer in America.”

“We don’t think that is a good idea,” Chadley said.

“Excuse me, my lord, but you have no right to your opinion about me or what I do.”

“I want to help, Charlotte. I want to make up for everything my family did to you.”

“I don’t need your type of help.”

“Charlotte, please,” Jacob said.

She passed a shaking hand over her eyes. “The only help I need is to get a new identity, reference papers, and passage to America.”

“I can’t believe you would leave him to keep killing,” Jacob said, disappointed in her for once. She was a fighter, but this seemed to be one fight she wanted to walk away from.

“That’s not fair,” she whispered. “I’m trying to save myself.”

“You’re putting more women at risk. If the killer truly is Edmund, then he must be stopped.”

“And if I come forward, my aunt will have me labeled as incompetent and a fool, and no one will believe me.”

“We have a solution to that,” Chadley said.

Suddenly Jacob’s hands were sweating and his heart was pounding. Never in any of his wild imaginings had he thought he would marry again, let alone under these circumstances. But he was also determined. This was exactly what he wanted to do. This was exactly what he needed to do to save Charlotte, and saving Charlotte was more important than anything else right now.

“Marry me,” he said. His voice was calm. He’d stopped shaking, and it all seemed so right.

She blinked, her gaze bouncing between the two of them before her brows drew together. “This is nonsense. Even more insane than my aunt claims I am. How could that possibly help?”

“She can’t get to you if you have a husband,” Chadley said. “By marrying Lord Ashland you will take every argument that Lady Morris has and bury it.”

“You’ll be safe,” Jacob said. “And that is the most important thing of all.”

She looked at them both in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

Jacob turned to Chadley. “Can you give us a moment alone?”

…

“Do you truly want to marry me?” Charlotte asked Jacob once they were alone. “Or is this just part of a silly plan?”

Her mind was desperately trying to process everything she had learned in such a short amount of time—the viciousness of her aunt, followed quickly by Jacob’s outrageous proposal and Chadley’s involvement in all of this.

“I do,” Jacob said. “I really do. I know this has come out of nowhere and it seems like I’m asking only because there doesn’t appear to be an alternative option, but that’s only part of the reason.”

“Wh—” She licked her dry lips. Her heart was pounding, but only part of it was due to the fear that her aunt could have her committed. “What are the other reasons?”

“I like you, Charlotte. I admire your tenacity. I admire your bravery. Not many women would have run to the rookery and survived. You have spirit and a strength that I envy. I don’t know if I could have been that strong.”

“Many people admire each other, but they don’t marry. It’s a thin reason to wed.”

“You want me to tell you I love you, but I don’t know if I can. I loved Cora with my whole heart, and when she died I didn’t want to live. It took me a long time to regain my will to live, and I still miss her.”

“Then why marry me?”

He seemed to think about it, and she wondered at a man who asked a woman to marry him but needed to think of a reason.

“Because I like you a lot. I like coming home to find you here every day. I like telling you about my day, and I like hearing about yours. I like that we are comfortable enough together that we can sit in silence or we can talk in depth. But more than that this solution seems right. I truly believe that this is the only way to save you from your aunt.”

She seemed to consider him for a long time.

“I more than like you, Jacob, but I can’t marry someone that doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

She was putting everything on the table now—her feelings and possibly her own life. But she wanted a life like her parents had. She wanted someone who would defy Society and their family and risk everything to be with her. Like her mother had for her father.

“Charlotte.” He reached a hand toward her but let it drop between them.

“Yes, we suit. We get along well. We have similar likes and interests, and we can talk for hours, but that feeling, that pounding of the heart—you lack that. When you kissed me, did you feel anything?”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes. “God, yes.”

“What? What did you feel?”

He opened his eyes and looked deep into hers. “Like I wanted you more than I’ve wanted another woman in a long time. Like if I didn’t have you I would combust.”

Something deep inside of her tightened in an answering need. She wanted to marry this man. She wanted more kissing and much, much more than that. But she wouldn’t compromise her dreams. She wouldn’t settle for a man who didn’t love her as completely and fully as she deserved to be loved.

“Do you feel that you were betraying Cora because you were kissing another woman?”

He seemed to think about that. “I’m not going to lie to you. Yes, I felt guilt, but that is only natural. I loved her completely. I thought she was the only woman for me, but you… You make me question everything I believed before.”

“Marriage is forever, Jacob. That’s a long time to be with someone on a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

“What other solution do you have? I know you, Charlotte. You can’t in good conscience go to America and leave your cousin to continue his killings.”

“You know everything I know. You can go to the police and tell them. You don’t need me anymore.”

“And you will spend the rest of your life hiding in America?”

“I will spend the rest of my life living the life I chose for myself.”

“I can give you a better life. I have an estate in the country now. Armbruster says that I can profit handsomely from it.”

She looked at him in sadness. “Is that what you think of me? That I want riches? An estate? Country living? I want love, Jacob. A love like my mother and father had. Maybe I can find that in America.”

“I would make a good husband. I would take care of you.”

“I want more than to be taken care of.”

Her heart physically hurt. She could say yes, spend a lifetime with this man, and easily fall in love with him, but she would die a little bit each day knowing he didn’t love her the same way she loved him. She would wither away, knowing he still pined for his dead wife.

“The funny thing is,” she said softly, “I would have said yes. If only you felt more for me than a sense of duty.”