Page 130 of Duke of Sapphire

Come north when you are ready. Bring your Duchess.

He was going to bring his Duchess home first.

* * *

“You have a caller,” Georgiana said from the doorway.

Charlotte set down her book. Her heart did the thing it had been doing for six days: it leapt before she could stop it.

Her aunt’s face answered the question before she could ask it.

“It is not your husband,” Georgiana said. “It is Lord Redmont.”

“What the devil does he want?”

Georgiana’s brow went up.

“Mind your language, Child.”

Charlotte pressed her lips together. “I have no wish to see him.”

“He has been here an hour,” Georgiana said. “When he first arrived, I took the liberty of telling him you were indisposed. He sat down.” She looked faintly incredulous. “He simply sat down and waited.”

“Then he may continue waiting until he comes to his senses and leaves.”

“Charlotte.” Georgiana came fully into the room and closed the door. “See him. Say what you need to say. Send him away yourself. It will be considerably more effective than my doing it for you.”

Charlotte looked at her aunt.

“He will not stop,” Georgiana said. “Not until you have given him an answer he cannot argue with.”

Charlotte got up, smoothed her skirts, and went downstairs.

Redmont was standing at the window when she came in. He turned and bowed. Then his gaze moved over her once, quick and appraising.

“You look very well,” he said. “Surrey clearly agrees with you.”

“What do you want, Lord Redmont?”

He smiled. “Directness. I have always admired it in you.”

“Then I shall continue in that vein.” Charlotte remained near the doorway. “You have traveled some distance. I would like to know why.”

Redmont moved away from the window. “I think you know why. Your marriage is over, Charlotte. Anyone can see it. You are here. He is in London. You have been here nearly a week, and there has been no word from Sappherton.” He clasped his hands behind his back, perfectly composed. “I am offering you a way forward.”

“I am the Duchess of Sappherton,” Charlotte said. “That does not change because I am visiting my aunt.”

“It will change,” he said, “when your husband completes the legal proceedings he has already set in motion.”

Charlotte looked at him steadily. “I do not believe you.”

“I have it on good authority⁠—”

“Henry will not divorce me.” She crossed her arms. “He abhors scandal. A divorce would follow the Sappherton name for generations. You know that as well as I do.”

Redmont tilted his head, that small, considered movement she had always found irritating. “Perhaps he decided severing ties with you was worth the scandal,” he said. “Because he let you leave, Charlotte. He watched you walk out of his house, and he did not come after you.” A pause. “That is not the behavior of a man in love.”

The words found their mark. She felt it, a cold little arrow somewhere in her chest.