Page 69 of A Lady's Dangerous Secret
Charlotte‘s mind raced to process all the new information, but she continued to return to one salient point. “Isle Diablestill after us?”
“I suspect as much. I’m working with the Runners to find out more about him. I’ll not let you leave this house until I know it’s safe.”
“You’ll not let me?”
“Lottie, please don’t start this again,” he begged. “I would notlikeyou to leave this house before then.”
“That’s a start.” Charlotte leaned back on the settee and forwent the perfect ladylike posture that was expected. She could not believe she was entangled with one of the most dangerous men in France, and likely England as well. Of course, she did not want to leave the house until she knew it was safe, but she had to remind James he could not dictate her every move.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“It looks as if you are not quite ready to leave the house anyway, so I’m going to do everything in my power to find out more and keep the men stationed outside.”
“Captain Hughes!” Aunt Frances floated into the drawing room. Charlotte let out a groan. James purposely called as early as was acceptable, hoping that her aunt would still be abed. Given his connection to the Duke, James now stood on a pedestal in her aunt’s eyes, and she fawned over him as such. However, Charlotte wondered if Aunt Frances’s flattery would vanish if James was not proven to be the Duke’s legitimate heir.
James’s stern visage returned. He stood before he executed a bow. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Lady Hardwicke. I just finished my visit with Charlotte, because I have important business to attend to for my father.”
“Oh! I’m sorry that you can’t visit longer, but the duties of adukenever end.” James’s gaze flickered to her own, and Charlotte rolled her eyes. James was a quick study in knowing how to placate her aunt while finding a reason to make a swift exit.
He said his goodbyes, then briskly walked to the door in order to avoid any last-minute remarks from her aunt.
Aunt Frances took his seat. “Any updates?” she asked eagerly.
“I’m afraid not, but both the Bow Street Runners and the Duke of Westcliffe’s solicitors continue to actively search for the marriage license. They have not lost hope.”
Her aunt let out a dramatic sigh and braced herself on the cushion. “Thank goodness,” she exhaled. If she became this melodramatic about whether or not James was the heir to the Duchy of Westcliffe, Charlotte could not imagine how she would respond if she knew that someone was trying to kill her niece.
Charlotte paused. Her aunt would likely be more concerned that a murder would dirty her Axminster rug. Charlotte was glad she had chosen not to reveal any details regarding the danger she faced to her aunt, and instead fed her tidbits about James’spotential rightful place in Society. This topic was the perfect material to keep her aunt occupied.
“I’m glad to hear they are still on the search.” Her aunt, now satisfied with the latest update on the search for James’s dukedom, sprang up from her seat. “I must get ready for today’s calls.” She swept out of the room with her head held high.
Before Charlotte could get settled, Robinson appeared in the drawing room doorway to announce Beatrice, Eleanor, and Bridget. Charlotte’s mood lightened, and she instructed the butler to show them in. Bailey’s figure appeared behind Robinson.
“Bailey, it looks as if there will be three guests for tea.” Her lady’s maid nodded and headed back to the kitchens.
The women filed into the drawing room. Beatrice at the front, as usual, followed by Eleanor, and then Bridget. Beatrice held herself regally, being the daughter of a marquess, after all. Eleanor held herself properly for all intents and purposes, yet she had a mischievous look on her face like she hid the most fascinating secret. Bridget brought up the rear with her shoulders drawn forward and a forlorn look in her eyes. Charlotte still could not figure out what made all the Lockharts have that sad aura about them, but Bridget was by far the worst. She always looked as if she wanted to curl herself into a ball and hide from the world. Bridget opened up somewhat when she was with their group of female friends, but Charlotte still suspected she was hiding a terrible secret.
Charlotte greeted the ladies and answered their inquiries regarding her arm before they seated themselves around the settee upon which Charlotte was perched.
Beatrice arched her eyebrows. “We passed Captain Hughes leaving the house as we arrived.”
“Oh?” Charlotte attempted to respond nonchalantly, but her cheeks flushed anyway.
“No need to be embarrassed, you’re betrothed,” Beatrice reassured her.
“I know, but it still feels, well…odd.” Charlotte had lived her life in the periphery as theforgotten fifth, so becoming the center of attention was a new and unsettling experience.
“How magnificent to be head over heels in love with someone,” Eleanor exclaimed with a glint in her eye. She clasped her hands together.
“Eleanor, we swore never to marry. You can’t wax poetic about love,” Beatrice responded.
“Who said anything about marriage?” The corner of Eleanor’s mouth quirked upward. “You can have love, or lovers for that matter, without nuptials.”
“Eleanor Balfour,” Beatrice chided.
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Stop being so stuffy.”
Beatrice shook her head. “I have no idea what you were doing in Italy.”
