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“Charlie, control yourself!” he commanded, flinging his arms up to protect his face as another object whistled past.
“I will not!” she shouted, casting about for something else to throw. “You’ve no right to question me. You’re not my father or brother. You—you’re nothing!” she wailed, tears streaming from her eyes.
The door burst open behind them.
Whirling, the three found themselves face-to-face with Herrington. Charlotte immediately rushed around David and into his arms.
Herrington held her to his chest as she sobbed. “There, there, my dear,” he murmured, stroking her shoulder as he smirked at the other man. “Pelham, I think it might be best if you leave before there is any further unpleasantness.”
“Charlie, he does not love you. He’s only using you to get at Melly,” David told her.
Charlotte turned, her storm-cloud eyes staring back at him with pure venom as she edged closer to Herrington.
“Come with me,” David repeated calmly, holding out his hand.
“I think our host is right, Lord Pelham,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “You should leave.”
David shifted forward, but Mélisande placed a restraining hand on his arm. “You cannot,” she murmured. If he called Herrington out, Charlotte would hate him, because Herrington would most certainly die.
His lips thinned, telling her he didn’t like her advice.
“Not here. Not now,” she added, fixing him with a hard stare. “David, you know I’m right. She’d never forgive you. Let us resolve this another way.”
After a moment, he nodded. Without further argument, he turned and departed.
The instant he was gone, Charlotte burst into another storm of tears.
“Charlotte,” Mélisande said with all the calm authority she could muster, “you will come with me immediately. We’re leaving. Now.”
Just then, Reggie burst into the room. “I just saw David. He said Charlotte was in...” His words died out at the sight of his sister in Herrington’s arms.
Charlotte turned to Herrington, burying her face in his shoulder. After a moment, he pried her loose and cupped her cheek. “You must go. Do not worry; I will take care of everything. I’ll call very soon. I promise.”
“You will do no such thing,” Reggie said, finding his tongue at last.
“Reggie!” Charlotte turned pleading eyes on her brother.
Mélisande stared at Herrington. “Reggie, I think you’d better take your sister home now.”
“Come, Charlotte,” said Reggie.
Having no choice, Charlotte went to her brother, who quickly escorted her out of the room.
“You will not see Charlotte again,” Mélisande told Herrington. “As her chaperone, I forbid it. And I’m sure her brother will forbid it, also.”
“You may forbid all you like, but I believe her parents will welcome my suit,” he replied, clearly enjoying himself. “Indeed, they may wish us married immediately, under the circumstances. Completely unnecessary, of course. We’ve done nothing to warrant such hasty action, but nevertheless.” His shrug was nonchalant. “I’m perfectly amenable to the idea—unless of course another, better option presents itself. You could take her place.”
“Me?” she blurted, confused. “But you despise me!”
&n
bsp; “Despise...desire.” He shrugged. “They are but opposite sides of the same coin. You are a beautiful woman, Mélisande.”
Alarm filled her. “I did not instigate this hostility,” she retorted, taking a step back. “However if you wish a public apology I will gladly give one if it means saving Charlotte from a broken heart. But I will not become your whore.”
Herrington smiled then, a terrible, slow smile that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
“You misunderstand my intent,” he told her. “I wish to make you my wife. You see, by marrying the woman who spurned me, I shall be publicly vindicated, my humiliation erased. And if you refuse, I shall marry Charlotte.”
