Page 19 of The Tenacious Lady Blackmore

“I do not know the history between you two, but I would be hesitant to call someone friend who’s saying such things behind your back.”

For one brief flash of a moment, she’d wondered if Seth was jealous that she held another man in esteem. But no. Apparently not. He was only looking out for her best interest. It was kind of him. Unnecessary—she could fully look out for herself. But kind all the same.

It was what someone who was ‘only a good friend’ would do.

Charlotte let her hand drop to her lap, still holding the handkerchief. “Lord Linfield and my late husband were quite close. They took their Grand Tour together while young, and we often visited them, or them us, for holidays and the like. After Blackmore died, we saw little of one another, though I did hear that his wife passed last year. Very sad news.”

“Well, he’s in London for now, and if he’s willing to tellmethat you can’t be trusted because we’ve been seen together so often, I’d hate to think who else he’s telling.”

Charlotte shook her head, anger suddenly expanding inside her. “What rot. I am the Marchioness of Blackmore. I have been a lady of means and importance for more years than I care to count. If I desire to keep company with an honorable gentleman, it is no one’s business but my own.”

“Are you willing to risk your sway with the committee over a matter of principle?”

Charlotte stared him down, though he didn’t flinch. He would know she wasn’t mad at him—he was only the messenger. Still, she settled her fieriest glare on him.

But then faces came to mind. Faces of all the girls she’d met and helped through the years. Elizabeth and Kathrine, the first two girls from the asylum she’d met, their wide eyes and heart-shaped lips. After that, her mind was filled with dozens of others. Each life that could have ended so differently, but that she’d had a hand in directing toward safety and happiness.

Charlotte’s mind flitted back to the smallest grave in the Blackmore family cemetery. Each girl, to this day, reminded her of her own loss more than twenty years ago. When she looked into their eyes, it was like looking intohereyes. She saw her own baby in every face.

“No,” she said with a sigh. Angry or not, she would never turn her back on those girls. They needed her too much.

Seth nodded, silently understanding the struggle she’d gone through just to say that one word.

“I’d considered leaving London,” he said.

Charlotte’s brow creased. “I know the committee, and I doubt that would resolve the issue.”

“Dinah expressed similar concerns.” Seth sat up straighter. He was switching from theoretical conversation to clear-cut plans. She’d seen him do it before. “So, I’ve decided to stay.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” And she was, even if they would only ever befriends.

“Which leads us back to my proposal.” Seth slapped his knee and then stood, pacing toward her, the animation of his tone pouring out until it enthused his face and even his stride. “I suggest we continue on as we have been—mostly. We’ll be seen at gatherings together.However, we will be seen disagreeing.”

Intriguing. She placed an elbow on the armrest, leaning her cheek against her hand, and the angle allowed her to better see him while he stood. “Proving that no matter what our connection is, my thoughts are still my own. They haven’t beentaintedby you.”

“Precisely.” He shook a finger in her direction—not one of censure, but of ready agreement. “I’ll state an opinion, and you’ll disagree. Later, you’ll state an opinion, and I’ll disagree, but you won’t budge.”

When he got like this, she could easily understand how he had been able to lift his family up out of poverty. He had gone from yet another merchant scrambling to make ends meet to a very wealthy man known for his business aptitude.

Was it odd that she found such determination and intelligence so fascinating? Even attractive?

“I find it maddening,” she said, “that after all these years as a loyal patroness, Istillhave to prove I can think for myself.”

“The world is filled with an unfortunate number of idiots—no matter which station in life you are in, there’s always another one around the corner.” He sat down beside her on the settee.

Charlotte allowed herself a moment to admire his profile. He was handsome, no use trying to deny it. He had a strong jawline and a Roman nose, and gracious, but if that bit of gray at his temples wasn’t calling out to her to run her fingers through his hair.

He turned and faced her. “It shouldn’t be too hard. We’re simply convincing society of the truth. That we’re friends and nothing more.”

Had someone opened a window? No, that was just Seth’s opinions blowing in like an arctic chill, icing over all her dreams.

Girlish dreams, really.

As a woman over forty, she ought to be immune to such fanciful things. When she’d first had her coming out, she certainly would have believed by now she’d be over the ideas of romance and falling in love.

But life was rarely what a person imagined it would be when so young.

“Yes,” she said, not wanting the silence between them to stretch any longer. “Yes, we will convince them we are friends.”

“So they can all return to listening to your sound advice. They needn’t worry because we are nothing more.”

Charlotte nodded once and forced the words out. “Nothing more.”

---