Page 64 of Kiss a Rake and Tell

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

“Of all the colors, I must sayredis my least favorite,” Charlotte mumbled as she toyed with one of Josie’s pearl clips. “It reminds me too much of mother—too much of Matthew too.” She grimaced at her reflection in the glass of her vanity.

Josephine smiled behind her, pining the last stray strands of her chignon in place. “We could have fashioned you a gown of any other shade, my lady. It’s not too late to change, besides.”

Charlotte ran her hands over her scarlet bodice. It had been embroidered with roses down the front and back, cinched tightly just below her bosom. She had never had a body of which other girls might be envious. She was too tall and wiry and had not a curve of which to speak. Somehow, her modiste had revealed a bosom in her, and it almost made her forget about how terribly red clashed with her complexion.

She had chosen the color on a whim, her seamstress having advocated for pink first. That whim had been something misguided.Benjamin seems a man to enjoy a ruby woman. She should not have minded what he should have liked, needing to remind herself at intervals that their betrothal was still half a farce. There was credit to it in the way she enjoyed his company, however. If he were not so bent on his ruin, onherstoo, they might have made a go of things. But Charlotte could not marry a man with no title, no matter how much she might want to.

And so, the engagement ball, which Josie had been primping her for since midday, was the first of many milestones she would suffer once in artifice and then never again. For no man should want to marry her after Benjamin scandalized hertwice. She supposed sheshouldenjoy the evening while it lasted.

Josie stepped away, snapping her from her daydreaming. “I believe you’re all done, my lady, unless there is something else with which I might assist you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Nothing, my dear Josephine… unless I could bother you with some sweetmeats from down the stairs. A Turkish delight would prove a wonder. I hadn’t the time for luncheon.”

With a gentle smile, Josie sauntered off, closing the door behind her. Just as quickly, a knock sounded from the other side. When Charlotte opened the door, she was surprised to find not her lady’s maid… but her betrothed in her stead.

“What—“ she babbled, but Benjamin was quick to push past her. She turned and said, “You do push your luck,” a little too teasingly.

Heavens, but he looked a marvel that night! His dark hair had a wave at the front, making him look a little boyish. He was dressed in a crisp, dark jacket and a pair of beige breeches, his cravat curling high around his neck. He seemed at a loss for words as he regarded her. They had not seen each other in two days, and he seemed different, though she could not place it. Flighty. A little more enamored with her, perhaps.

“You look, ” he paused to blink, “divine.”

Charlotte tried to conceal a smile with a glare but was hardly successful. “Well, one can only hope to be fake betrothedoncein their lifetime. Might as well go all out.” Not wanting to tempt fate, she sat back down at her vanity to apply aneau de toilette. “I really do mean it when I tell you not to push your luck. You should not be here.” She smiled. “Now, do tell me how you’ve been.”

She perfumed her neck and waited for his reply. When none came, she turned to look at him, and it was then that she spied the bandage on his hand. Her stomach sank. “What happened to you?”

He tucked his injured hand behind his back. “Nothing of your concern.”

She frowned. “Benjamin, I told you—no more secrets.”

Softening, he sat himself down on the edge of her bed. “Harper is dead.”

The perfume bottle slipped from her fingers. She caught it before it could shatter atop the vanity. “Harper is…” she repeated, not quite allowing the words to sink in. She had not thought of the Captain since that night in the greenhouse when Benjamin had revealed he too had attended her robbery. That he should be dead meant something terrible had happened, surely, or else Benjamin would not know about it. “Do you mean to say… that you…”

“I did not kill him if that is what you were wondering.” He brushed his forehead with his forearm. Charlotte could see the guilt radiating from him, especially as he said, “He came to visit me.”

“When?” She edged closer.

“Two days ago.”

“To say what?” She let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. “How did he even know where you were? How did he die?”

He flinched from every question as though she had batted at him. “He meant to lure me into another scheme. I refused him, and… he fell from a window to his death.”

“Oh, God…” Wordlessly, she settled on the bed beside him. She couldn’t look at him, not yet. “When you say he fell—“

“I told you—I did not kill him.” He let his head hang, and Charlottesworeshe heard a sob escape his lips. “It was Lamb… he…” The rest of the story trailed off, but Charlotte didn’t mind.

She shifted to look at him, placing her hands on his sides. Resisting at first, he allowed her to draw him in until their gazes locked. “He killed him to save you. Is that what you wanted to say?” Benjamin nodded. “And where is Lamb now?”

“Newgate Prison.” He shot up, pacing around the room with a hand on his hip. “They won’t hold him for long. They haven’t a shred of proof he did anything wrong.” He kicked at her vanity, and Charlotte got to her feet to stop him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “It was all my fault.”

Gingerly, she took his hand. It was the first time she had seen him express guilt outside of their own misadventures. Somehow, he seemed lighter for it. As much as she hated the thought, she would not mourn Harper if he was as terrible as Benjamin had made him out to be. In fact, though she prayed the Lord would not hear as she thought it, she was rather relieved.

“It wasnotyour fault,” she said in a low voice. “He came looking for trouble, and he found it. Look at me,” she sighed, and Benjamin did as he was told. He looked the picture of mourning. “What can we do for Lamb?”

“Nothing more than I have already done. I have told the constables and wardens all I knew of Harper,” he tripped over the name, “It should go some way to them brushing his death under the carpet. I know of more officers who could testify to his evil. For now…”

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