The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(31)

Glancing at the carriage in question, Worthington nodded. “Much better.”

They moved to the front of the conveyance carrying his mother, Lady Worthington, Mrs. Addison, and Charlotte. A second carriage holding their dressers, and the third vehicle transporting his and Worthington’s valets had departed earlier to arrive in Town before their mistresses and masters as had his groom, who was driving Con’s curricle.

The coach was flanked by two outriders. Con didn’t believe anyone would attempt to attack them, but there was no point in tempting fate. It had not been kind to him recently.

He was about to give the order to start when his mother decided she needed an item her maid had packed, but soon they were on their way.

Yesterday afternoon when Worthington had spoken to his wife and Lady Charlotte, the conversation had not gone as he and Con planned. Shortly thereafter, Worthington had informed Con that despite their best efforts to keep Charlotte in the country, his wife had insisted it would be better to return to Town, especially as there was already talk.

If he ever saw Braxton again, Con was going to plant the man a facer.

Later, when their little group had met in the drawing room before dinner, Con’s mother had emphatically agreed. “Fight fire with fire, my son. If you and Charlotte are present, all gossip will soon fade.”

As he and Worthington cantered in front of the coach, a problem came to Con that none of the others had considered. “You do realize I have not been invited to any of the events Lady Charlotte will attend.”

“That is the least of your worries,” Worthington retorted. “News of the engagement will prompt many ladies to send you a card. Not to mention your mother, my wife, and Lady Bellamny will be spreading their version of the story during morning visits.”

No doubt dragging Charlotte around with them. Con might end up with a resigned wife, although trapped was likely a better word, and that was not good enough. Not for him.

He wanted to see the look she had given him when he’d rescued her. He wanted to sup on her soft lips and have them open to him willingly, and he damn sure did not wish to be berated for having had a mistress—an arrangement he must end at the earliest possible moment.

Blast it all to hell!

He hadn’t wanted to wed yet, but now that it was inevitable he wanted Charlotte to wish to marry him. He didn’t know another female who would have refused him. That the one lady who did was his betrothed was completely unacceptable.

He would make her understand that she was mistaken in his character, and his first step would be to convince her that high-flyers enjoyed their trade. It would, naturally, be a shock to Charlotte. After all, gently bred young ladies had been raised—for good reason—to believe conjugal relations between a man and a woman were proper only in marriage.

The primary difficulty was her knowledge of Miss Betsy’s house. He was certain Charlotte had overreacted to what she had heard. “Do you happen to know what Lady Charlotte was told about the women at Miss Betsy’s brothel?”

“Knowing Dotty Merton, more than she should have been told.” Worthington’s lips flattened into a tight line. “The situation was horrific. Ladies had been abducted and forced into prostitution either by threats of multiple rapes or drugged with opium. Their children were either murdered or sold into kid kens.”

Bloody hell! “Ladies? Are you sure?”

“Yes, ladies.” Worthington’s gaze was hard and steady. “I am only telling you this because you need help with Charlotte, and you will soon be part of the family. It must go no further.” He waited until Con nodded, still unable to understand how women of his own social status could have been in a brothel. “We found them through a woman who ran a boarding house for the families of military officers who could not take their families with them overseas and whose families had nowhere else to go. The ladies who were with child were given a drink made to abort the child. Some of the women died. Their children, usually ones too young to go to school, were sold to criminal gangs.”

“Good God.” Con felt as if his breath had been sucked out of him. As if Jackson himself had landed a punch in his stomach. Of course he knew not all women in the profession wanted to be there. Still, that was better than being on the streets. Yet for ladies to have suffered in such a way was unbelievable. That Charlotte, a complete innocent, knew about it made him feel slightly ill. “I don’t understand why anyone would have . . .”

“My wife thinks it is better for ladies to know of the dangers that could befall them and others.” Worthington shrugged. “I don’t disagree. Yet I do think some of the more lurid details could have been left out of the telling.”

Con was still having difficulty understanding how gently bred women could have been used so horribly. “What happened to the ladies?”

“My cousin Merton and his wife are caring for them.” Worthington’s brows drew together. “We are still waiting for most of their husbands to return.”

“And the children?”

“Merton has hired men to find them. There’s been some success. Jemmy, for example, though we haven’t found his family yet.”

“Wait a moment.” Jemmy had said Charlotte had found him. “Why was Charlotte involved with that?”

“Dotty and Charlotte have been best friends since they were in leading strings. When Dotty decided the process was taking too long, she decided to oversee one of the raids. Naturally, Charlotte accompanied her.”