The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(24)
“For Heaven’s sake, Constantine!” Mama threw up her hands. “What on earth were you thinking of to mention your mistress to her? Have you been avoiding Polite Society for so long that you have forgotten how to behave? Unmarried young ladies should not know—”
“I was not the one who brought up the subject.”
“Then how did she know?” She asked as if she did not believe him.
Con swiped a hand down his face. “She saw me at the theater.”
“Well”—his mother blinked a few times, as if digesting this information—“That is of no consequence. You will simply assure Lady Charlotte that you shall give up your ladybird, and indeed, have already done so in your mind.”
He wished to God it were that simple. “She has stated she will not wed a man who has kept a mistress.”
“How absurd.” His mother waved her hand dismissively. “It is the way of our world for gentlemen to keep mistresses. Even your father had one”—Mama’s face and lips lowered into a frown—“before he met me, of course. After that . . . there was no need.”
Mama glanced at Lady Bellamny, who shook her head. Good, at least someone knew Charlotte was not going to be so easily reassured. “Unfortunately,” he said, “Lady Charlotte was made aware of the deplorable conditions in which some unfortunates are kept. Eventually, she will come around.” Lord, he hoped so.
“I suggest waiting until her sister and Worthington arrive to broach the subject. In the meantime”—Lady Bellamny rose—“I must return to the inn. Even though I left him a note, my husband will be wondering where I’ve got to. He left shortly before Kenilworth and Lady Charlotte arrived to view some rock formation or another.”
“And I,” Con said, straightening, “am for my couch. Lady Charlotte is not the only one who was deprived of a night’s sleep.” He dropped a kiss on his mother’s head. “Lady Bellamny, allow me to escort you to the hall.”
They were halfway down the corridor when her ladyship said, “I wish you luck. I have a feeling you are going to need it. From what I have seen, Lady Charlotte is quite loyal, to her family, her friends, and her beliefs.”
“I have no doubt you are correct.”
“As there appears to be a boxing match in the village, I shall inform my husband we are returning to Town today.” She sighed. “Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to return home. He only came to Town to present a paper and has remained much longer than I expected. Be that as it may, I shall do my best to make your road easier.”
“Thank you.” It would not suit Con to have his wife hie off to Town if he wished to remain in the country, but the Bellamnys obviously had an arrangement that suited both of them.
After seeing her ladyship off, Con made his way to his bedchambers. Yet, rather than falling into peaceful slumber, he tossed and turned, punching the pillows more than once.
Visions of Charlotte attempting to make her own way back to Mayfair from here kept intruding into his more delightful dreams of making her his. It was, after all, inevitable. Therefore, he might as well enjoy it.
Logically, he thought she was too intelligent to do anything that stupid. She must know that bawd and the blackguards who had abducted her would be searching for her. From what he’d heard of Miss Betsy, she would be extremely unhappy that her tool for avenging herself on Worthington had got away.
Giving up on sleep, Con tried to remember what exactly he had heard about the procuress. He’d been at one of the French-style drawing rooms his mistress, Aimée, liked to hold. It must have been shortly after the destruction of Miss Betsy’s brothel. One of the other Cyprians knew one of the prostitutes who had worked there. It appeared that even the women who went voluntarily were being held against their will. More by the supposed debts they owed to Miss Betsy than anything else. That type of arrangement was, unfortunately, not unusual. Or so he had been told.
What had been disturbing were the claims of innocents and ladies being forced to work at the bawdy house, as well as the use of opiates to subdue them. This last bit he did not believe at all.
He punched his pillow again. Naturally, everyone had heard of country girls coming to Town and being lured into prostitution. He had even met a few, but once settled they were perfectly happy in their profession.
All of which begged the question of why Worthington had put Miss Betsy out of business. Or the reason Charlotte would have been told anything at all. What had possessed him to do something so ill advised as to mention a brothel to an innocent young lady?
That was something Con would not discover until his friend came to fetch Charlotte, which brought his overactive mind back to the problem at hand, keeping the lady safe and, more importantly, here where he could not only look after her, but convince her to wed him.
For despite the circumstances surrounding his betrothal, and for reasons he did not fully understand, he found himself looking forward to having Charlotte in his life and in his bed.
Chapter Nine
“Do you want me to wake her up, ma’am?” May’s whisper pierced Charlotte’s sleep.
“No, I shall sit with her until she wakens.” That sounded like Jane.
Charlotte heard a rustle of skirts and a soft whoosh as her cousin sat in a chair next to the bed. She should really tell them she was awake, but try as she might, her eyes wouldn’t open. How strange.