The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(15)

Wife? Wed? No, no, no! Being betrothed was bad enough. But she could get out of that. But married! Lord Kenilworth was the last man in the world she would wed. Just the idea that he would touch her with the same hands he used to mistreat other women made her stomach lurch.

Charlotte quickly shoved the memory of his kiss aside. If she had known who he was, she would never have kissed him.

Taking a deep breath, she said with as firm a voice as she could muster, “Despite what his lordship said, I do not wish to marry him. There must be a way to—”

“That is neither here nor there, my dear.” Lady Bellamny waved away Charlotte’s complaint in a voice so composed it made her want to slaughter someone. Preferably Lord Kenilworth. “I stopped by Stanwood House to inform your sister I intended to be out of Town for a few days. Instead, I found your cousin Jane, Mrs. Addison. Knowing that I am a trustworthy friend of the family, she told me what had occurred. Unless I am mistaken, you were with Lord Kenilworth at least overnight, and you were seen entering the inn with him.” She raised a brow. “In a rather disheveled state.”

Charlotte decided to ignore her creased, dusty gown, and address the most important issue. “I did not exactly spend the night with him.” Not all night and, technically, she had entered the inn first. “He followed me into the inn. I—”

“Close enough, my lady.” His tone was as dry as sand. “We were seen together walking toward this place, and I held the door open for you.”

“Charlotte, my dear.” Lady Bellamny’s hard tone took Charlotte aback. She had never before been on the receiving end of her ladyship’s bite. “I do hope you were not going to tell me that you spent the night in the company of those ruffians who abducted you.” Her other brow rose as she finished the sentence.

“No, my lady.” She barely got the words out as the ramifications of that getting out slammed into her consciousness.

Unfortunately, in the eyes of the ton, being with those blackguards would be even worse than spending the time with his lordship. No one would believe she had not been violated. The fact that he had helped her get away early this morning would not mean anything to a scandal-monger such as Lord Braxton.

To make matters worse, Lord Kenilworth had been right. She had been na?ve and stupid. Although, she still did not trust him. Any man who would use women the way he did was a cur.

“Excellent.” Her ladyship took a sip of tea and focused an innocuous gaze on Charlotte. “Then what objection do you have to Kenilworth? He is good looking—”

She felt her eyes widening.

“Heavens, girl. I may be old but I’m not blind.”

His lordship inclined his head slightly—the hint of a smile quivering at the corners of his lips—as her ladyship raised her cup of tea to him. “Now, as I was saying, he is not hard on one’s eyes, wealthy, and a marquis. Most young ladies would be overjoyed to be making such a match.”

Most perhaps, but not her. “But—but I had never met him before last evening.” She sat straighter in her chair. “I cannot possibly marry a man on so small an acquaintance.”

Surely the fact that they were strangers would hold some sway. She had sworn never to wed a man who engaged in buying a female for his own gratification, and that is exactly what keeping a mistress was. Not to mention, two of them at the same time. No, she must hold fast to her principles.

“Under the circumstances, you have no choice.” Lady Bellamny calmly sipped her tea.

“He is a rake.” Charlotte raised her chin, daring either of them to tell her she was wrong. “I will not wed a man who abuses women.”

“Abuse a woman?” Lord Kenilworth’s green eyes darkened as his gaze pierced through her. His voice was dangerously quiet, and a shiver chilled her spine. “I have never in my life harmed a female.”

How dare he lie? The mere fact that he paid to use a woman’s body was more than she could tolerate. Dotty had told her how demeaned the women she had rescued were. They had been forced to submit to rape, or drugged with opium until they would do anything for the drug. Only a very few of the women at Miss Betsy’s had said they had chosen that life. The rest did it because they had been forced into it by someone else or because it was either that or die of starvation.

“Indeed, my lord.” Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you call it when you pay to use a woman’s body?”

“A business arrangement,” he shot back as if he had done nothing wrong.

“That is quite enough from both of you.” Lady Bellamny rang a small handbell. “Lady Charlotte, you should know better than to discuss topics you should know nothing about. As for you, Kenilworth, remember you are a gentleman speaking to a young lady. Obviously, the two of you have some differences to work out.” Lady Bellamny rang the bell again. “Lady Charlotte, you shall retire to a chamber. After you have washed and broken your fast—for it is clear something is making you out of sorts—I shall accompany you and Kenilworth to his mother’s estate. You will remain there until Worthington is able to take you back to Town. I’ll write Grace, informing her that you are safe. Kenilworth, I suggest you write Worthington.” Mrs. Watson entered the parlor. “Please take Lady Charlotte to a room where she can wash. The small repast you provided was very good. However, I shall also want a complete breakfast for three served here as soon as her ladyship returns.”