“I admit I’m also rather tired,” said Elizabeth.
“Shall I help you upstairs, Gran?”
But the dowager turned to Wolfgang. “Your Grace, might you lend me your arm? I’m afraid my bones get terribly stiff when I’m up this late.”
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “You do recall I’ve escorted you to bed every other night, Gran?”
Wolfgang ignored her, rising to his feet. “It would be a pleasure, Lady Alice.”
“Oh, good. Charlotte, dear, take his other arm. We can all make our way upstairs together.”
Charlotte knew she’d been outflanked and outmaneuvered, but she said good night to Elizabeth in front of the Skeffington rooms, and she wasn’t at all surprised when the dowager said, “Sleep well, darlings!” when they reached her bedchamber, and promptly closed the door in their faces.
Leaving just Wolfgang and her, alone in the corridor together.
Candles flickered from sconces on the wall, dancing up to the plaster ceiling and over the gilt-edged landscapes and portraits, as they made their way, rather slowly, to their own rooms. When they reached Charlotte’s door, Wolfgang leaned his shoulder against a stretch of wall and crossed one boot over the other. “Why do I have the feeling that we’re exactly where your grandmother wanted us?”
“Because she’s not the least bit subtle. I hope you can forgive her, Your Grace. I’ve told her she mustn’t try to matchmake.”
“Forgive her?” He grinned. “You mistake me. I’m exceedingly grateful.”
The comment hovered in the air between them, flickering like the candlelight. Charlotte wanted to ignore it, but it leaped and danced and demanded her attention. Worse, it seemed like something Lord Wolfgang might have said, in the long-dead days before he became a duke, when something wonderful still shimmered between them.
The Duke of Warrick she could handle, but could she handle Wolfgang?
“You ought to be more careful, Your Grace,” Charlotte said softly. “A foolish woman might think you were flirting.”
It was a warning, but he leaned in closer. “And if I am?”
Charlotte’s heart gave a queer little thump. “Then I suspect you’re a foolish man.”
She turned and reached for her doorknob, but his hand wrapped gently around her wrist. “Charlotte, I can’t keep fighting, or pretending, or ignoring this. Don’t you ever—wonder?”
When she turned back, he was so near she had to tilt her head to look at him. She was standing straight as a pin, rising up to him as he leaned down to her. Both of them, as always, straining toward each other.
He’d given her an opening, one big enough to slip a rapier through and gut him if she chose. Instead, she gave a shaky laugh. “It went so badly wrong the first time.”
His eyes darkened. They were so close together that when he took a breath, Charlotte felt it in her own chest.
“You were younger then, and I was watching my brother die.”
Wolfgang traced her cheek with the back of his hand, leaving a glowing trail that started at the corner of her brow and dipped down to her jawline. Her pulse beat rapidly, cryingPlease! Please!orDanger! Danger!
When it came to Wolfgang, she could never tell.
“Why would anything be different now?” she asked.
“Because we’re not the same as we were.”
His voice sounded like an ache, and yet her forehead pleated into a frown.
“I’mthe same. It’s you who changes back and forth. Wolfgang, what happened last time—I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
“Forgiveme?” He stared. “I rather think it’s for me to forgive you.”
“I see.” Charlotte had to take a deep breath so her voice didn’t crack. “Somehow it’smyfault—You courted me all summer, then dropped me on my face! Youhurtme with no explanation and no apology, and now you stand here and ask one from me?”
Wolfgang only stared. “What are you talking about?”
