The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(20)

“Yes, ma’am.” After all, his mother had nothing to do with the way he behaved. Not that Charlotte would disobey Lady Bellamny in any event. She had been a friend to Charlotte’s mother and now to Grace and the rest of the family.

“Neither will I have you showing that Friday face to her ladyship. It is her son to whom you are betrothed.” Charlotte tried to paste a polite smile on her lips and failed miserably. “It is my experience that everything always turns out the way it is meant to be.” Lady Bellamny lapsed into silence for a few minutes, but Charlotte did not expect it to last, and she was right. A few moments later, her ladyship continued. “You could do much worse than Kenilworth. He does not gamble or, as far as I know, drink to excess. He has an excellent reputation in the Lords. As a matter of fact, he has worked with Worthington to pass some important bills. I am positive that when you have had an opportunity to rest and reflect on your situation, you will come to the conclusion that you could have done much worse. It is a good match.”

Not if he bought women, it was not. Lady Bellamny’s sharp gaze focused on Charlotte, and she felt compelled to respond. “Yes, my lady.”

Satisfied, Lady Bellamny closed her eyes and dozed, leaving Charlotte to her thoughts.

Mostly she just wanted to go home. She wanted to be with her sister and the children and not have to think about what had happened, or what could have happened, or what might happen.

If only she had not sent her footman, Frank, back to the house for her shooting gloves, he might have been able to fight off the miscreants until other help had arrived. With him there, and if she had practiced with her dagger more diligently, she could have stabbed one of the men and got away.

Tears pricked the back of Charlotte’s eyes, and she gave herself a shake. There was no point in crying over what was already done. She would find a way forward. A way that did not include marrying a man she had detested long before she’d made his acquaintance.

At least Jemmy would have arrived in Berkeley Square by now with the message that she would be rescued. That was a happy thought. Although, she wished her champion had been someone else. That situation, though, was beyond her control . . . for the moment.

She could not stop her mind from wandering back over the past day. At first, Lord Kenilworth had seemed so nice, and she could not deny he was handsome, and there had been that kiss. Still, handsome is as handsome does and . . . She really had to stop thinking about Kenilworth.

Matt and Grace wouldn’t be home yet, but Cousin Jane would come as soon as she received the letter giving her the direction of Lady Kenilworth’s house. Perhaps her cousin would have some ideas Charlotte could not think of. After all, Jane had successfully managed not to marry the man her father chose for her.

Charlotte would write to Dotty as well. Her friend had always helped her find the best solutions to the problems Charlotte faced. And Dotty would understand why it was impossible for Charlotte to wed Lord Kenilworth. After all, she was the one who had discovered Miss Betsy’s brothel and what she had done to the poor ladies there.

In the meantime, Charlotte would stay out of his lordship’s way. After Charlotte’s ordeal, perhaps his mother would expect her to be ill or out of sorts for a few days, and allow her to take her meals in her chamber. Normally, she would scoff at such mawkish behavior, but in this case she’d make an exception.

In a day or two, Jane would have arrived to take Charlotte home. And maybe her sister would already be waiting for her. And, if she wrote to Dotty right away, she might be in Town as well. Charlotte started to feel better, more hopeful. She wished Louisa could come, yet she was newly married and it would not be fair to drag her back to Town.

If only Lord Braxton and Lord Gerald had not been there, none of this would be necessary. Still, they had been, and Charlotte must think of a way out of this tangle.

She nodded to herself. She would write to her oldest sister and to her friend and tell them everything that had occurred—well, maybe not about the kiss—and among them, they would figure out a way for her to jilt Lord Kenilworth. He shouldn’t even care if she ended the engagement. He did not want to marry her in any event.

Lady Bellamny was right. Everything would be as it should be, just not as her ladyship expected.

*

Less than thirty minutes later, Con turned down the familiar drive lined with linden trees. Leaning forward slightly, he waited until the Elizabethan manor house came into view. Even the horses seemed to sense his excitement and sped up a little.

As he approached, the windows sparkled as if diamonds had been set in the glass panes. Wooden beams crossed not only the cream-colored wattle and daub but the red brick as well. Although hidden from the front, the gardens in back had been restored to their original splendor, and he could not wait to see them once more. The manor house was easily the favorite of all his properties.

And even though Charlotte had given him nothing but trouble, he wondered if she would be as impressed by the manor as he always was.

He slowed the pair to a stop, jumped out of the phaeton, and threw the ribbons to a groom who had run up.

When Lady Bellamny’s traveling coach stopped, Con opened the door and let the steps down.

“My ladies, welcome,” he said, offering his hand. Once Lady Bellamny was out of the carriage, he turned to assist Charlotte down, almost expecting her to refuse his offer. Instead, she was standing in the door gazing in what appeared to be awe at the house’s fa?ade.