Chapter Nine
“Do you want me to wake her up, ma’am?” May’s whisper pierced Charlotte’s sleep.
“No, I shall sit with her until she wakens.” That sounded like Jane.
Charlotte heard a rustle of skirts and a soft whoosh as her cousin sat in a chair next to the bed. She should really tell them she was awake, but try as she might, her eyes wouldn’t open. How strange.
Sometime later, someone was gently shaking her. “Charlotte, sweetheart.”
Goodness, it was Jane.
“You must awaken, or you’ll not be able to sleep tonight.”
Opening her eyes, Charlotte rubbed the sleep from them. The curtains had been pulled back and sunlight poured into the bedchamber. “How long have you been here?”
“About two hours. It is well past noon.” Even though Jane smiled, a worry line had formed between her brows. “I shall call for May, and she can order a nuncheon to be brought for you.”
Just then, Charlotte’s stomach growled. This morning, her stomach had been so tied in knots she had only eaten a piece of toast. Now she was famished. “A large nuncheon, please. I am quite peckish.”
Her cousin’s smile grew and the worry line disappeared. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Swinging her legs over the bed, she picked up Collette. “Is Hector here?”
“No, he wanted to come with me, but I thought it might be better if he remained with the children.” Jane took the kitten from Charlotte while she went into the garderobe. “Worthington’s butler sent for us shortly after . . . yesterday afternoon. As soon as we knew where you were, I wrote to Grace suggesting she and Matt come directly here. But in the event they do not receive my missive in time, Hector will be able to tell them where we are.”
That meant at least another day or two with Lord Kenilworth and his mother. Charlotte bit her lip to keep from saying anything and went behind the screen, pleased to see that her soap and toothbrush were there.
A few minutes later, May scratched on the door and entered, scanning Charlotte before holding out her robe. “I’m so glad to see you, my lady. I’ve got your pale green gown ready after you finish eating. Let’s do your hair while we’re waiting.”
That was surprising. She had expected May, if not Jane, to mention the abduction. Apparently, neither of them wished to mention the event.
Sitting at the dressing table, Charlotte watched as her maid twisted her hair into a neat knot high on her head.
“Do you still have your gold earbobs?”
“They are on the nightstand. I took them off before going to bed.”
“Ah, I see them.” As soon as Charlotte had donned the jewelry, a knock came on the door, and May gave her another big smile, much as Jane had earlier. “That’ll be your nuncheon, my lady.”
Charlotte stood at the window taking in the view of the garden while her maid arranged the dishes.
“Doesn’t all this look good,” May said, and for the first time Charlotte heard the forced cheerfulness in her maid’s voice.
She could almost see the worry in May’s eyes, much as Charlotte had seen the line between her cousin’s brows. Something was going on, but what? They were both treating her as if she were a fragile porcelain figurine and would fall apart at any moment.
The door closed, and she ambled toward the table where Jane had already taken a seat and tucked into the food. Charlotte was halfway finished eating, when it occurred to her that neither her maid nor her cousin were going to bring up what had happened. It was up to her to allay their concerns.
“I am fine, Jane. I really am. Lord Kenilworth helped me escape before anyone could harm me.”
Jane set down the cup of tea she’d been drinking. “Charlotte, on our way here we stopped at an inn for directions. While the coachman was getting them, I heard two gentlemen discussing your betrothal to Lord Kenilworth. Are you truly betrothed? Neither Lady Bellamny nor Lady Kenilworth told me you had got engaged, but what brought about the talk?”
Charlotte twisted the napkin in her hands. “Lord Braxton and another man saw us enter the inn. Lord Kenilworth told the landlord we were betrothed. Then Lady Bellamny appeared and she asked him if he was going to do his duty and marry me.” The concern in Jane’s eyes had not lessened. “I do not wish to wed him, and I do not believe he wants to marry me. While I slept, a plan came to me. I will simply remain betrothed until sometime in the summer, after any talk dies down. Just like Dotty was going to do before she fell in love with Merton.” Jane’s countenance became graver than Charlotte had ever seen it. “It will be fine. You’ll see.”
Yet, from the look on her cousin’s face, she was beginning to think all might not work out as she wished.
Reaching over, Jane patted Charlotte’s shoulder. “Let us not make any plans now. Grace will be here soon.”
A chill ran down Charlotte’s spine. “What are you not telling me?”
Several moments passed before her cousin replied, “Due to the nature of your clothing”—last night it had looked as if she had slept in it, which she had—“there is a rumor that you and his lordship were trysting this morning.”
No doubt started by Lord Braxton, yet Jane might not know the source. “But Lady Bellamny—”
“Oh, yes. The gentlemen accepted that her ladyship was with you, but they are under the impression the two of you stole away to be alone.”
Blast, blast, and blast! Now what am I going to do?
Denying the rumor would be useless. Charlotte was well aware of what her sister and her friend had done with their husbands before their vows. Lady Bellamny had told Charlotte what Lord Kenilworth had said to Lord Gerald about having an accident with the phaeton. Obviously, despite what Lord Kenilworth thought, Lord Gerald or, more likely, Lord Braxton hadn’t believed the story.
“We did not,” she objected as strongly as possible. “We had been traveling and before that, I’d been thrown into a coach. He only said we were betrothed to save my reputation.”
“Yes, my dear.” Jane patted Charlotte’s hand. “I believe you, and Matt and Grace will believe you as well. The problem is that once gossip such as this starts, it is almost impossible to stop it.” Her cousin pursed her lips together. “And he did say you were to marry. That would give rise to speculation that something was going on as well.”
“This is so unfair.” Charlotte wanted to wail, but she refused to give in to such childish behavior.
“I understand.” Jane was quiet for a few moments as she sipped her tea. “I do not know Lord Kenilworth, but Lady Bellamny thinks well of him. I know you want a love match, but are you sure you cannot wed him?”
Oh, God! Not Jane too! “I cannot.” Charlotte wondered how much to tell her cousin, and decided if she wanted help, she’d have to tell the whole truth. “He abuses women.”
Tea spewed from Jane’s mouth before she could grab her napkin. “What?” Her shocked expression was everything Charlotte could have asked for. “Charlotte, how on earth do you know that?”
“Before Louisa married, we attended the theater with her and Rothwell. Kenilworth was there with not one but two courtesans.”
Jane’s brows rose. “That does seem a bit excessive.”
That was not exactly the response Charlotte expected. “Do you know about the brothel that Dotty Merton found?” Jane shook her head. “Well let me tell you what Grace and Dotty told Louisa and me.”
She related how ladies had been abducted to work in prostitution and when they refused had been made to take opium. “All because men wanted to buy their bodies and use them.” Charlotte’s voice shook with rage. Then she added her pièce de résistance. “And do you know what Lord Kenilworth said when I chastised him for keeping a mistress?”
“No,” her cousin said slowly.
“He said it was a business arrangement.” She hiccupped and blinked the moisture from her eyes. Still, everything was blurry. “Those poor women. A business arrangement.”
She had barely got out the last word when she burst into tears.
Jane wrapped her arms around Charlotte and patted her back. “We will think of something. I promise you.” Her cousin helped her up and back to the bed. “It would be best if you lie down for a while longer.”
“You may be right.” She hardly ever cried. Not since her mother had died and she discovered it did no good. “Perhaps I am more tired than I thought.”
* * *
Charlotte woke a few hours later feeling much calmer, the bout of tears having worked to rid her of her excess emotions. She rang for her maid, who arrived several minutes later.
“We didn’t know if you’d be up or sleep through the night.”
“Have I missed dinner?”
“No, my lady. You have enough time to dress.”
While her maid worked, she made a few decisions.
First of all, she must behave like the lady she was. Her sister Grace would have been mortified at her conduct toward Lady Bellamny and even Lord Kenilworth. No matter the provocation, Charlotte vowed she would remember her manners.
Secondly, she would not discuss the betrothal at all, with anyone, including his lordship. Make that especially his lordship. Men could be a strange species, finding challenges in almost anything, and she was not going to be a challenge.
Lastly, she was going to find a way to have Miss Betsy arrested and save as many of the odious woman’s victims as possible.
“The pearls, my lady?” May asked.
“Yes. They will be perfect.”
Charlotte attached the earbobs while her maid clasped the necklace. A silk ribbon with small pearls attached had been threaded through her hair.
Once May handed Charlotte her reticule and draped a Norwich shawl over her shoulders, she looked in the mirror and nodded. She was ready to face Lord Kenilworth and his mother.
As soon as she figured out where the drawing room was. Old houses were always difficult to navigate.
A knock came on the door and Jane poked her head in. “I thought you and I might go down together.”
“Do you know the way?” Charlotte asked hopefully.
“No.” Jane laughed. “I hoped to find a footman or maid.”
Charlotte opened the door wider. “The worst that can happen is they’ll have to send out a search party.”
“No need for that.” Lord Kenilworth stood in the corridor, smiling at her and Jane. “I have come to escort you. Lady Charlotte?” He held out one arm. “Mrs. Addison?”
They each placed a hand on an arm. She did not want him there, but this was her first opportunity to behave as she ought. “Lead on, my lord.”
“The house is not as much a rabbit warren as some, but there are a number of rooms.”
“I would love to tour it someday,” Charlotte said. Although she doubted she would be there long enough. Without question, his lordship and his mother had a great deal to keep them busy.
“I’d be happy to show you the house and gardens tomorrow.”
Now she’d stepped into it. “I would love to.”
“If you do not mind,” Jane said, “I would like to see the house and gardens as well.”
Charlotte sent up a prayer of thanks for helpful cousins.
“Not at all, ma’am. It is my pleasure.” He sounded as if he really meant it, which surprised her.
Perhaps she had been right after all, and he would be glad to be free of her.
Then again, her sister always said that one caught more flies with a spoonful of honey than a gallon of vinegar. Not that she wanted him to catch her, nor did she wish to be drawing caps at every turn, and there was his mother to consider.
After descending the grand staircase, turning right, then strolling down another corridor, they finally reached the drawing room. It was just as light and lovely as the other rooms.
Lady Kenilworth was already sitting next to the fireplace with a glass of wine in her hand. “Welcome, Mrs. Addison.” Lady Kenilworth set her drink on a small marble-topped table and rose. “My dear Lady Charlotte, how wonderful to see you so well rested.” Her ladyship held out her hands to Jane and Charlotte. “Will you have wine or sherry?”
“Sherry, if you please,” Charlotte replied.
“I as well,” Jane agreed.
Lord Kenilworth poured, handing them their glasses.
“Kenilworth has told me about your betrothal. I cannot tell you how happy I am. A toast.” Her ladyship smiled beatifically. “To your betrothal. You do not know how long I have waited to have a daughter.”
Even though she had not said a word, Charlotte felt like the worst sort of impostor.
Charlotte had just taken a sip of sherry when Kenilworth retorted drily, “I am only two and thirty.” Though at the moment he sounded more like thirteen. “And you already have three daughters. Surely you have not forgotten them.”
Despite her vow to behave perfectly, she could not stop herself. “How dare you speak to your mother in such a way?” Her grip tightened on the stem of the glass as she fought to keep some control over herself. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, my lord, and thank your good fortune that you still have a mother.” Kenilworth and the marchioness turned their startled gazes to her. Oh, Lord. What had she done? “Forgive me,” Charlotte said, vastly more contrite than she expected to be. Her nerves must be more frayed than she thought. “I should not have spoken. My mother died several years ago, and I miss her every day.”
“I know exactly how you feel, my dear.” Lady Kenilworth hurried to Charlotte, giving her such a sympathetic look that she had to force herself not to burst into tears again. “I too lost my mother when I was young. I do not believe one ever forgets. Constantine”—the marchioness’s chin rose—“I approve of your choice of wife and as far as I am concerned, nothing else matters.”
Oh no! She had not defended Lady Kenilworth to gain the woman’s approval in a marriage Charlotte had no intention of making.
Yet, now what was she to do? She could not allow her ladyship to continue under the misapprehension that she would marry her son. She would have to explain that she did not truly have to wed his lordship.
She tried to ignore what her cousin had said. “It is a temporary engagement only. I am sure that under the circumstances, his lordship would agree that ending our betrothal in late summer or autumn is in both of our interests.” She forced herself to smile at the others. “By then the events will all be forgotten.”
“I disagree,” Kenilworth said in what she was recognizing as his normal highhanded tone. “I have no faith that Braxton will not tell everyone and his dog that you and I were seen early in the morning appearing disheveled.” Lord Kenilworth glanced at his mother. “The fact that neither of us were at the inn last evening is easily proven.”
That was tricky of him. Worse, he might be right.
Although, why he would want to marry her, Charlotte could not even guess. “I am sure that once my sister and brother-in-law have returned to Town, they will post here immediately. I suggest that we wait for them to finish this discussion.”
“I agree. We shall leave it up to Worthington and your sister.” He took a sip of wine and smiled at her.
It was almost as if he knew something she did not. Yet, neither Matt nor Grace would ever make Charlotte marry where she did not wish. Of that she was certain.