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She glanced about the garden, remembering Sir John’s so recent declarations of love and his heated kisses. She felt as if she could still feel the warmth of his touch and unconsciously her fingers rose to her lips. How differently she had felt only five minutes ago, dancing with him, held in his arms. Her thoughts broke on a sob.How foolish she had been to be taken in!
“Charlotte, wait,” Sir John caught up with her before she could reach the doors which led back into the house. “Please just listen to me a moment.” He caught her arm and turned her to look at him.
“Do not address me in such an informal manner, sir,” she said stiffly, pulling away from his restraining grasp.
“I beg your pardon.” Sir John immediately removed his hand from her arm, recoiling as if she had struck him. He was clearly stung by her sudden formality. “If you would only hear my explanation,” he persisted. “Please.”
Charlotte hardened her heart. If she did not, she would burst into tears. She held onto her anger like a security blanket, wrapping it protectively around herself. “I do not want to hear any explanation of your treachery, sir,” Charlotte said.
“But…”
“I simply want to know, if it is true?” Charlotte demanded, emphasizing each word, but she could feel the truth of the story in her bones just as she could read it in his stricken face.
He did not meet her eyes. “You cannot think that I-”
“Is it true?” she snapped, furious that he would attempt to hedge at such a time. “I was the subject of a bet?”
Sir John swallowed taking his time, but it was clear now he was guilty. He was only looking for a way out of answering. Charlotte stared him down, demanding truth, awaiting his reply.
“Yes,” Ashbrooke confessed miserably.
Charlotte nodded sadly. “Then we have nothing more to say to one another, Sir John Ashbrooke,” Charlotte said. “Consider our acquaintance at an end.” She turned abruptly, so that he would not see the tears welling in her eyes.
“My actions are reprehensible. I agree,” he called after her. “I do not ask you to forgive them. I only implore you to hear how my feelings have changed since I made that wretched wager.”
She stopped but did not turn.Wager! He had made a wager on her.His words were like a blade through Charlotte’s heart and the truth of the matter struck her again.He had placed a sum upon her love. How could he?Were her feelings only a game to him. Had he even loved her at all?How could she be so foolishly duped once again?She hardened her heart against his explanation. She refused to be hurt again by a cad who did not value her person and thought of her only as a purse to be won. She lifted her chin as the music for the waltz continued to play behind them. Her voice was like ice as she turned to face him. “Make haste, with your explanation, sir, I do not wish to be in your company any longer than necessary.”
Sir John grimaced, speaking with difficulty. Charlotte refused to acknowledge the twinge of sympathy she felt for him. She refused to look at him. She continued staring straight ahead at a point beyond his left shoulder. Holding her eyes wide open so that her tears would not fall.
“Part of what you heard is true,” he said. “My financesarerather limited. Not quite in ruins, but I am in difficulty. I spoke to the earl about the matter.
“My brother!” Charlotte turned to look at him. “You spoke with Randolph about this, but not me? Do you not think it concerns me as well?”
“Yes, but-”
Charlotte hissed at him through her teeth, interrupting. “But you did not think it necessary to inform awomanabout matters of finance,” she said. “After all, I would not have the wit to understand it anyway.” The heat of her words would have set a lessor man aflame.
“I never said that.” He stepped toward her. Too near, she thought.
“You didn’t have to,” she said. “It is plain to see.” She pulled away walking swiftly ahead.
“Charlotte!”
“Lady Charlotte,” she hissed over her shoulder.
Sir John followed, trying to speak with her, to explain. “The majority of my family’s wealth comes from my mother’s side. My father was already in some financial difficulty when he married her.”
“So duplicity runs in your family. That is good to know.”
“That is not what I meant,” he said gaining some measure of surety. “It is only that because of the war, all of my property in France has been seized. My father was a good Englishman. A patriot. I told all of this to your brother when I asked for his permission to request your hand in marriage. I did not make a secret of my situation.”
Except to me, Charlotte thought. She steeled herself and did not reply, ignoring the imploring note in Sir John’s voice.
“I had no intention of marrying until very recently, and it is also true that I would not have decided to take such a step if it were not for the fact that I must replenish my family’s fortune by marrying a woman of some means.”
“And I am a woman of means,” Charlotte said with the best sneer she could manage, all the while feeling that she was turning to stone. Bit by bit cold seeped outwards from her heart as the wind whipped up around them turning over the leaves in the garden. She could pretend that the ice in her heart was somehow connected to the change in the weather. She felt frozen.
“Yes.” Sir John admitted reluctantly. “It is true that I would not have sought you out otherwise, but that would have been a great loss on my part. I know that now.”
