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“No.”
“Then there was nothing wrong in what you said to me.”
Charlotte patted the young woman’s hand. “We know neither Lord Baxter nor Lord Biddle are treating you right. So I must ask, why, then, will you not allow us to help you leave?”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears.
“It’s not wrong to want a better life,” Charlotte said. “One where you feel safe.”
Emma sniffled once, then a second time. At length, she said, “It’s Jane.”
“Jane?” Charlotte asked. “But she is well off. I saw her only last week.”
Emma nodded. “He said if I ever leave Lord Baxter, she will be taken away from the asylum.”
A chill ran down Charlotte’s spine. “Who said that?” Though she already knew the answer.
“Lord Windham.” Emma’s voice rose to a squeak, but she forced the name out all the same.
Seth muttered something beneath his breath that was clearly not for lady’s ears. Though she hadn’t heard the exact words, Charlotte felt the same.
“When you went to speak with Lord Windham,” Charlotte asked, “he said you had to stay, or he would take your sister away?”
Emma nodded, and a tear ran down her cheek. “He said he and Lord Baxter made an agreement. But if I left, that would ruin everything.”
Charlotte gave Emma’s hand another little squeeze. “What kind of an agreement?”
“I don’t know. He said I was payment for a vote in Parliament, or something.”
Charlotte’s blood ran cold even as pure indignation filled her. She could think of a few choice words herself that would suit just now.
“Well,” she said, “you never have to see Lord Baxter or his horrid son ever again.” It took quite a bit of self-control to not use a stronger term than ‘horrid,’ but Emma was more likely to recoil from vulgarity than to trust Charlotte for it.
“But I must,” Emma said. “For Jane.”
“Sir Mulgrave and I will see to Jane, and we will find a new position for you.”
“Oh, my lady,” Emma said, her words drawn out, clearly worried. “I don’t know. What of Lord Windham?”
Seth spoke next, his tone heavy. “Leave him to us.”
