Page 26 of A Lady's Dangerous Secret
She forced herself to focus on the present conversation. “I’m sorry about your wife.”
“We had an amicable relationship.” The Duke’s face was unreadable as he looked straight ahead while steering the horses.
He left it at that, and Charlotte saw a melancholy enter his gaze, even more so than when they initially met. She had learned the Duke was an easy conversationalist. For him to suddenly appear tight-lipped, she assumed there was more to the story.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, aside from greeting others who passed their curricle. Charlotte could tell the Duke’s mind was elsewhere, likely consumed by thoughts of the duchess.
“Westcliffe, how are you this fine day?” They were stopped by a gentleman on horseback who appeared a decade younger than the Duke. The man pulled on the reins of his steed.
The Duke gently eased their horses to a halt. “Brockton, it is a wonderful day. It’s good to see you. Lady Charlotte, this is Lord Richard Norman, Viscount Brockton. Lady Charlotte Tipton is the daughter of the Earl of Pulverbatch.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Charlotte.” He paused for a moment in thought. “You are Arthur Tipton’s sister?”
“Yes, my lord. He’s the youngest of my brothers, and the one I’m closest with.”
He made a sound of approval. “Brilliant man. He has a great future ahead of him in politics. He just needs to loosen up a bit.”
Charlotte smiled—that was Arthur to a T. “He would be happy to ponder solutions to problems all day and night, if possible. I have rarely seen him while I’ve been in London, because he is so passionate about making changes for society. I haven’t been able to coax him to any events.”
“There is still time. The Season is young. Hopefully, he’ll attend one social event before it’s over. Westcliffe, I’ll see you later at the club?”
“Yes, we can talk further.”
Lord Brockton gave as best a bow as he could muster from atop a saddle, and nudged his horse down Rotten Row. After Charlotte’s eyes left the viscount, she caught the scowls of a mother and daughter in a carriage. If only they knew she did not wish to play this game. Despite liking the Duke, she would readily hand him over in exchange for a certain captain.
But she could not.
If these women were any indication of the feminine sentiment toward Charlotte now that the Duke was courting her, she would send a note to Beatrice, Eleanor, and shy Bridget to go to a tea shop with her. She needed allies.
Before long, they left the park, and the Duke pulled up to her aunt’s town house, and his face took on a more serious look. “I hope this afternoon has been to your liking.”
Her heart fluttered, though not from excitement, but nervousness. “Yes, Your Grace. I’ve had a lovely time.”
“As you have seen, I don’t like to beat around the bush. I have greatly enjoyed your company and would like to set a date for the wedding.”
Her stomach dropped. This declaration was exactly what she needed to save herself, but instead of relief, she felt panic.
“I’m honored you wish to do so. May I make a small request to wait a few days more? I feel as if it has been such a whirlwind.”
“Of course. I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed. Due to my need to be at the House of Lords, I’m not leaving London imminently. I thought we could marry before the end of the session, so you could return with me as my wife.”
“I’d like nothing more. Thank you for understanding.” Charlotte smiled as best she could after the lie fell from her lips. Her insides were in turmoil both from her dishonesty with the Duke and the implications of their marriage.
I need to protect myself. I need to protect myself. I need to protect myself.
“It’s been a wonderful day, thank you,” she said.
The Duke nimbly dismounted from the curricle, not noticing her smile had faltered, and helped her down. He escorted her to the front door, which the butler had already opened.
“I have Parliamentary business at the club tonight, but I’ll call on you tomorrow. Until then.” He lowered his head and kissed the air just above her gloved hand.
“I look forward to it.” She stretched her facial muscles back into a smile.
The moment she stepped inside her aunt’s entrance hall, her face fell. She trudged up the stairs to her room. After what felt like eons, she entered her chamber and locked the door.
Charlotte threw herself onto the bed and sobbed uncontrollably.
CHAPTER TEN
