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What is it that you believe you saw there?What, indeed?
She tried to think back. The letters, which he had placed before her. That ledger, with the names…The flag, too.
* * *
Lord Dunsmore had just gone. Charles was sitting in his office, sipping a glass of brandy while he thought. He had decided to go through with the rest of his appointments that day. In an effort to appear as though everything were normal.
The front door opened. Charles stood up, walking out of his office. He was surprised to find Arabella standing there, Annette behind her.
“My Lady,” he said, his heart pounding. He wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her. But he held back.
“None of that, Charles. I need to speak with you, immediately,” she said, walking toward him. “Annette is going to keep watch, in case we were followed.” He held the door to his office open, so she could pass. Annette remained in the waiting room. He closed the door. She remained standing.
“What’s the matter, Arabella?” he asked, gently.
“The Duke of Longmire has asked me to marry him,” she said. Charles had expected as much. He’d prepared himself for this eventuality, deciding to take it stoically when the time came.
“I suppose congratulations are in order?” he replied, even though it was like a bullet to the chest.
“I would never accept,” she replied. “As long as you draw breath, I could never marry another.” She took his hand, which reflexively curled around hers. “I came, instead to warn you—my father has threatened your life.”
Charles’s knees almost gave out, and he leaned back against his desk. “Your father?” He could barely believe it. “I knew he was upset with me, but he’s planning to kill me?”
“If I continue to refuse the Duke of Longmire,” she said.
“I can’t let you be forced to do something merely to save me,” he said.
“I don’t want to agree to marry him. I just don’t see how I can get out of it,” she said. “All these years, he’s made it seem like I was so free, only to find that he’s got me in a tight rein. I’ve had blinders on, my whole life.”
“I…I think I have somewhere that I can go,” he said. Lord Dunsmore had told him, right before he’d left, that if he needed, he could stay at his townhome, where he would be provided with an iron-tight alibi.
“Don’t tell me,” she said. “I don’t want to betray you.”
“Will you be all right?” he asked.
“Are you leaving London?” Their eyes met.
“No. I won’t go that far from you,” he said, his love for her shining through his words. “Not now.” He was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. Loving her might be the end of him, but he would happily allow it to consume him. He reached up, his fingers caressing her cheek. She leaned into his touch.
She went up on her toes, and he leaned in. They kissed, both of them holding each other tightly, as though it would be their last. The kiss deepened, and his hand went to the small of her back, pulling her in closer. She grabbed the front of his shirt. His head spun. When they finally stepped back, they were both out of breath.
“No matter what happens, I will always love you,” she promised him.
“I could never stop loving you,” he replied. “Even if you married the Duke of Longmire.”
“It won’t come to that,” she said. “It can’t.”
* * *
Arabella and Annette arrived home, leaving their horses with one of the grooms. They hadn’t been gone long—no one would question them if they said that they’d gone for a ride around the park. It was a brilliantly sunny day, and the wind was brisk. Perfect for a ride.
Mr. Blankley opened the door for them. He smiled brightly when he saw them, sketching a polite bow.
“How was your ride, My Lady?” he asked, standing aside to let them pass.
“Lovely,” Arabella declared. “We rode around Kensington Gardens.”
“It’s a fine, brisk day for that,” he replied, closing the door.
