The Captivating Lady Charlotte (Regency Brides: A Legacy of Grace #2)(29)

Charlotte glanced up and met Lavinia’s troubled eyes.

“We should pray,” her cousin said.

“Er, yes?”

“Let’s pray now.” Lavinia bowed her head, and Charlotte followed suit. Such open prayer was a little extreme, but it couldn’t do any harm— “Dear Lord, we thank You for Your protection for the duke and his servant …”

As Lavinia continued, Charlotte forced herself to focus on the good intention, not the awkwardness of hearing something so personal expressed aloud. Wasn’t praying supposed to be a private thing? Lavinia prayed like she was engaged in normal conversation. Charlotte shivered. She hoped her cousin wouldn’t ask her to pray out loud!

“And, Lord, please bring whoever is responsible to justice, and help them see Your grace and understand they can live a better way. Amen.”

“Amen,” Charlotte echoed weakly.

“Poor man. I’m so glad he is safe.”

“Yes.”

“It must have been terrifying! The Lord really looked after them.” Lavinia glanced over, as if she expected a response.

“Er, yes.”

“The duke is a man of faith, which is good.”

“Mmm.”

“Forgive me, but you don’t sound terribly convinced.”

“I …” What was she supposed to say? Mama’s mantra on the journey west from London rose again: “The most important things concerning a potential husband are his income, estate, and title. Attractiveness does not matter. Whether you consider yourself in love with him does not matter. Personal qualities such as faith are of little consequence.”

“Charlotte?”

“I’m sorry. I was thinking of Mama.”

Lavinia chuckled. “I can see why talk of the duke must immediately lead to thoughts of your parents.”

“Please don’t.”

“Very well.” But the disconcerting grin remained. “How thankful I am to know he’s safe.”

“It … it must have been quite the adventure.”

“Perhaps the countryside is not so boring after all.”

“Perhaps.” Charlotte shrugged.

Lavinia’s teasing smile faded. “But I do hope whoever was behind this will be soon discovered.”

“Yes, indeed. What was it you prayed? Something about the perpetrator and grace? You did not mean your mother, did you?”

“No. Simply that it’s one thing for a person to commit a crime and be found guilty, but quite another for them to realize their wrong and seek restoration.”

“You don’t honestly think the duke will wish to be restored to this person, do you? You’ve heard the rumors concerning how he treated his wife. I don’t think he’s the saint you make him out to be.”

“I don’t think he’s a saint.”

“No? You seem to be pushing him at me.”

“Really? I did not think my dropping his name into conversation now and then constituted pushing, exactly. Are you perhaps misreading things? Why would that be, I wonder?”

“Careful, else you will sound too much like Mama.”

“And we can’t have that, can we?” Lavinia smiled, her expression one of warmth and affection. “Forgive me if I seemed too forward in my opinions. It was kindly meant.”

Charlotte’s brows rose.

“Truly. If you prefer me to not mention his intelligence, nor his wit, nor how very charming his smile is—”

“Lavinia!”

“Very well. I shall not mention him again. Today, anyway.”



Hartwell Abbey

Two days later


The library’s hush and gloom matched the doctor’s demeanor perfectly. William gestured him to a seat, bracing internally for bad news.

“I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace, but there has been no change.”

William’s heart sank a little deeper. “I know Barrack has not woken, but you hold no hope?”

“He’s not responded in the week since the incident and doesn’t seem likely to waken. As I said, I’m sorry, sir.”

“Perhaps a little more time—”

Dr. Lansbury shook his head. “I do not want to give false hope, sir. I don’t believe anything is likely to change. Poor soul,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

His dismissive attitude fired grit within. Well, prayer could change things. God could. William still believed it, even if some of the prayers he’d prayed in the past few months seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.

“If I may, sir, I would suggest you remove him to a more suitable environment.”

“Such as?”

“The hospital of St. Luke.”

His eyes narrowed. “The one for imbeciles?”

“It is a very good infirmary, and one that promises good care for its inmates—”

“Inmates? Good God, man! Barrack is injured, not a lunatic.”

“And he needs proper medical care—”

“Which he is receiving here.”

“Which he is not receiving here, sir, no matter how good your intentions.”

He felt his choler rise. “I believe I shall seek another opinion.”

“That is your prerogative, of course.” The doctor bowed his head.