Page 96 of A Perilous Passion

The reverend and Mrs. Daniell, though no gossips, would no doubt be interested to hear what had occurred with Justin, and there was no guarantee that his whole congregation would not hear the tale soon thereafter.

Mama harrumphed. “I’ll say no more on the matter for now. But when we get home…” Her expression was icy, but the fact that her only daughter had been proposed to by an earl should, surely, temper her disapproval.

Assuming Rafe didn’t change his mind in the cold light of day, finally realizing that Charlotte was a completely unsuitable bride.

The shame—and the loss of him—would be unbearable. But she must prepare herself for the worst. He was an intelligent man and must see the awful consequences of a match with the daughter of a criminal.

The carriage lurched over a pothole, and she fell forward, suddenly feeling faint. Smelling salts and sal volatile were produced by Mrs. Daniell, and she was brought ruthlessly out of her faint.

“We’re nearly home, my dear,” Charlotte’s mama said, in a kinder voice than she’d heard her use in a while. “You’re exhausted and overwrought and need your bed. A decent night’s sleep will restore you admirably, and if not, Dr. L. E. Campaign will doubtless have a remedy for it.”

If Charlotte weren’t so tired, she would have gaped at her mama. Since when had she been an advocate of Dr. L. E. Campaign?

Five minutes later, they arrived at the gate of the cottage. Hester and her family called out their farewells from their carriage and continued on through the village as Reverend Daniell pulled his horses to a halt to drop off his passengers.

Immediately, the front door flew open and Flora, still in her evening gown, came hurtling down the path.

“Thank goodness!” she cried. “Oh, Reverend, please don’t go! I’ve caught one of them, and I don’t know what to do. The servants had the night off and I’ve been all alone with this dastardly villain.”

“Caught one of whom?” Charlotte asked as the startled cleric leaped down from the box and tied up his horses. She jumped to the ground without waiting for assistance, while Reverend Daniell hurried toward the house.

My goodness, but paving stones were chilly and rough when one had no shoes on! Charlotte hobbled along in his wake, then stopped in her tracks when she reached the parlor and looked upon Flora’s handiwork in admiration and shock.

Propped awkwardly against one of the parlor chairs, a weaselly-looking man was snoring gently. One eye was red and starting to puff closed, and his clothes and hair were disheveled. Charlotte thought she’d seen him before but couldn’t quite place his mangled face.

After an anxious glance at Mama, Flora hurtled into an explanation. “When Mr. Harris brought me home, he left me at the gate. The front door was ajar. But how could I tell if it was Charlotte or a burglar? Taking a leaf from Charlotte’s book, I entered cautiously, like a spy.”

“You didn’t!” Mama exclaimed.

“I did, and what did I hear but rustling and bumping noises coming from above! My instincts told me this was no neighborhood cat, nor a billowing window curtain. I grabbed the warming pan and quietly stole upstairs. Peeping into Charlotte’s bedroom, I saw yonder fellow rummaging through her tallboy, his back to me.”

“What?” Charlotte asked, alert now. “My dresser?”

“Indeed. I crept forward, raised the warming pan, and— Oh, I do so hate to inflict pain upon a fellow creature. But he must have been evil, mustn’t he, to be rummaging through Charlotte’s drawers like that?”

Charlotte thought the story sounded a bit too glib, but everyone else was too enthralled to notice.

Flora concluded, “I aimed carefully and landed him the hardest blow to the pate that I dared, and the man just collapsed.”

“How courageous of you, Flora,” Mrs. Daniell said. “Well done!”

At that, Aunt Flora looked self-conscious. Was there more to this tale than met the eye? Charlotte would never have expected such violence from her soft-hearted aunt.

“What happened then?” asked Thea, her eyes bright.

“I knew I should tie him up, but I had no rope, and I didn’t want to get too close for fear he’d lay hands on me. So it occurred to me I might keep him unconscious long enough to get help. I fetched a bottle of Dr. Campaign’s sleeping draught, rolled the man over, and poured the entire bottle into him.”

“All of it?” Charlotte was horrified. “You might have poisoned him!”

Aunt Flora gave her a stern look. “Ephraim’s most potent medicines are only sold in very small bottles. There’s no risk of poisoning from any of his nostrums, I assure you.”

Charlotte hid a smile. “Of course not.”

Flora continued, “Soon afterward his breathing changed, so I knew he was asleep. But I couldn’t leave him up in Charlotte’s bedroom, could I? That would have been highly improper. So I took him by the heels and dragged him down here to the parlor.”

“What, all the way down the stairs? By yourself?” Mrs. Daniell asked incredulously.

Flora flushed and looked down at her feet. “Well, yes. But his head bumped about dreadfully. That may have been how he acquired his bruised eye.”