Page 73 of Tempted By an Unconventional Lady
“What evidence? I do not take you for a fool, Aunty, but I can assure you that you have read the entire situation incorrectly, as has Uncle Elliot. Alexander is a good man.”
Her aunt jolted at her use of such familiarity, but Charlotte didn’t care. “Well then,” she replied, finally pulling her hand away, “if you won’t believe me, maybe you will believe the duke himself. If you need proof, I shall get you proof. We should invite him around to confront him.”
“Not to confront,” Charlotte pleaded, reaching for her aunt’s hand again in the hope that the affection would makeher see sense, “but to give him a chance to explain this misunderstanding, for I am certain that is what this is.”
Aunt Lydia stood up and looked down her nose at her niece. “Very well. I shall invite him tomorrow. Now get some sleep.”
As she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her, Charlotte slipped down on the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. Though her bubble of happiness had been well and truly burst, at least now there was a glimmer of hope at retrieving it.
***
Lydia huffed as she descended the stairs. She should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. Her niece had always been stubborn and determined—another fault her father had bred in her. And she always thought she knew better. Admittedly, Charlotte was right in this case. The truth was far more complicated than Lydia let on, but that didn’t mean she could let her niece win. She had to push her plan one step further.
She made her way to the drawing room. Elliot had taken his leave, and Lucille had moved to the main table where she sat picking at the remains of the cheese and bread. She wore a smug expression, and Lydia noted how well she had settled in. The girl clearly thought of herself as belonging. Lydia gritted her teeth as she smiled politely. She would use Lucille for as long as she needed, and then she would be pleased to be rid of her.
Lucille looked up at her with a glimmer in her eyes and a cube of cheese between her thumb and forefinger. “She didn’t seem happy, did she?” she said with a hint of glee and then threw the cube of cheese into her mouth.
Lydia grimaced. The whole plan may have been her idea, and it was true she didn’t want Charlotte to marry the duke, but she still had some affection for the girl she had raised as her own for the previous few years.
“No, she didn’t,” she replied plainly. She lowered herself onto the couch with a groan and when she spoke again, she kept her eyes on the fireplace in front of her. “You ought to go to bed too, Lucille.”
“Oh! All right.” Lucille’s surprise was evident from her tone, but she had been brought up well enough that she got to her feet and made to leave. “Goodnight, then.”
“Goodnight,” Lydia said without raising her eyes. But as her partner in crime reached the doorway, she called, “Oh, Lucille? Be ready for the final part of the plan. We shall enact it tomorrow.”
Chapter 29
The maid pulled back the drapes dramatically, and Alexander groaned, turning over in the bed to bury his face from the invading light.
“Tell it to go away,” he muttered.
“Tell what?” the maid asked, her brow furrowed.
“The sun,” he said with a huff. “I’m not ready for it to be morning.”
I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for morning again.
“Come now, Your Grace. Cook’s prepared you a lovely breakfast to set you up for the day. It will be a grand one, no mistake.”
She busied herself with preparing a fire while Alexander stared at the ceiling. His eyes stung and his head pounded. The brandy had seemed such a good idea the night before, a way to block out all his misery. But now it came rushing back, compounded by the taste of ash in his mouth and the queasiness of his stomach.
The maid stood up and wiped her hands on her apron. “Forgive my saying so, Your Grace, but staying in bed full of self-pity will do you no favors. You need to get up and out and embrace the day. That’s what Papa always used to say.”
Alexander chuckled lightly. “And did you speak to my predecessor with such boldness or is it only me to whom you chastise as if I am a child?”
The maid’s cheeks colored, and she turned away, but Alexander smiled at her. The entire household had a habit of looking after him, as if he were some fragile thing, and while other nobles might find it disagreeable, he found it somewhat endearing. He appreciated their care.
“I’m teasing you,” he said, hoping to ease her concern. “You are probably correct.” With a deep sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and prepared himself for another day.
When he got to the breakfast room, he was surprised to find a letter had already arrived and had been placed next to his plate. He frowned as he looked down at it, not quite taking his seat. He didn’t recognize the handwriting, but he had a bad feeling about the entire thing.
He pulled his chair out and lowered himself slowly, his eyes focused on the letter in hand. He stared at his name on the front when the maid dashed forward and poured him tea from the pot.
“Thank you,” he muttered though he was distracted.
“Would you like some eggs this morning, Your Grace?” she asked.
“Hmm.”
