The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(34)

She gave a light shrug. “I merely encouraged him to be himself and not what his uncle had taught him to be.”

The tea arrived and Charlotte poured.

Once they had each taken a sip of the strong gunpowder tea, and Dotty had had a bite of the lemon biscuits she liked so much, she said, “I received your letter, but I’d rather hear from you exactly what occurred.”

Charlotte told her about the abduction, the kiss, finding Lady Bellamny at the inn, and the betrothal. “I have decided to wait until sometime late in the summer or autumn to break the engagement. Even after what Lord Braxton put around, I should still be able to call off the wedding.” When her friend’s brows lowered, she rushed on, “I am quite sure Lord Kenilworth will not mind”—even though that was not what he had said. She was positive he would change his mind—“and, after what I know about the poor ladies at the brothel, I cannot wed a man who hires women for . . . well, you know.”

Dotty nodded thoughtfully. “Dominic tells me he is rather famous for his mistresses, but that he has never been known to frequent brothels.”

“What does it matter?” Dotty’s answer took Charlotte by surprise. And why was her friend not agreeing with her? “As far as I see, one is much the same as the other.”

“Are you concerned he will continue to keep a mistress after he marries?”

The question stopped Charlotte mid-sip. “I have given it no consideration at all.”

A few moments passed in silence, then Dotty set her cup down. “Do you remember our discussions about Dominic? How his political views and his votes in the Lords were causing much suffering among the poor?”

“Yes, and you said you could never marry a man who believed as he did.”

“Precisely. Then he began to realize the misery he caused others.” Reaching out, Dotty took Charlotte’s hands again. “Do you not think Lord Kenilworth could change his views as well? Perhaps he could be made to see how wrong his thinking is?” Her friend gave a sly smile. “You did enjoy the kiss, and from what I hear he is quite handsome and eligible.”

She had and he was. Maybe if he could admit he was wrong she could reconsider him, but Kenilworth was so sure of himself. He was worse than Merton had been. “I have tried. He will admit that there might be some women who do not like their trade, but only in brothels. He is totally convinced that courtesans enjoy what they do, and nothing I have said thus far has changed his mind. In fact, he thinks I am being na?ve in my beliefs and they have no merit.”

“In that case, you must find a way to change his point of view. Show him, as I showed Dominic, the harm he is causing.”

“But how?” Charlotte wanted to wail. Talking to him was like banging her head against a stone wall.

“You’ll think of a way.” Dotty grinned. “There are few ladies more clever than you.” She tilted her head toward the door. “I shall leave you before Dominic invades.”

“I’ll see you out.”

After saying farewell to Dotty, Charlotte finally made her way to the music room.

The moment she set her hands on the keys, the strain she had been under seemed to melt away. As she expected, her mind was able to open, ideas flew around her head, and she found the perfect solution to her most pressing problem.





Chapter Twelve


An hour later, Charlotte lifted her hands after the final notes of a divertimento by Johann Baptist Cramer. For a brief moment there was silence, then a slow clapping began.

“Excellent, my lady.”

She had not expected to hear that voice for another day at least. She rose from the piano bench and curtseyed as he bowed. “Lord Kenilworth, what a surprise.”

“Ah, and, from the look on your face, not a pleasant one. I do apologize for interrupting you.”

“I had just finished the piece.” She tried to retain the sense of calm she’d had while playing, as she sat back down on the bench and indicated he should take a nearby chair.

It was unfair and unwanted that his mere presence seemed to provoke such a strong response in her. He sauntered forward and Charlotte could not help but notice how well he looked in his dark blue jacket and biscuit-colored pantaloons. His dark hair, fashionably cut, curled slightly. Everything about him gave the impression of a wealthy, important peer. Only the slight shadow in his eyes, as if he was uncertain around her, belied his confidence.

Well, good. Let him be wary of her. “Did my brother invite you to join us for tea?”

“No.” Lord Kenilworth stared at her for a few moments before finally lowering his long, elegant frame onto the chair. “I thought we might speak about a topic of interest to both of us. A subject about which we must come to an agreement and the sooner the better.”

“If you have come to discuss our so-called betrothal, I wish you would not,” Charlotte said, returning his steady gaze. “I will do what is expected of me for the rest of the Season. That must be good enough.”

“I am sure you will. Yet, I have not come about our betrothal, but about your reason for not wishing to wed me.”

For the love of God! The man was impossible. “We have been over this before, my lord. Until you can admit you are mistaken about how any woman feels about selling her body, we can have nothing further to discuss.”