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Chapter 14
Charlotte gripped her skirts with sweaty hands and rushed into the dark night. With every footfall, she prayed that Jeffrey hadn’t found his way after her. What sort of man couldn’t take a hint?
The sort of man who’d murdered her cousin, of course. That was an option.
Throughout the previous days, her fear had permeated and grown. Of all the people in her immediate surroundings, Jeffrey seemed the most likely to have killed Brooks. He’d appeared in town at the appropriate time, and he seemed awash with knowledge that he wasn’t willing to share.
Now, he seemed to want to keep her close—perhaps too close.
Charlotte couldn’t attribute all of that to lust, although it did seem as though something simmered between them. Something that seemed to voice the idea that she needed him far more than she should have.
Once she reached the garden, she gripped the iron gate as her legs tried to give out beneath her. She knew better than to run in such a stiff and tight corset. Her brain seemed to bang about in her head as she struggled to regain full consciousness. In these moments, she completely forgot why it was she’d abandoned the party.
“There you are.”
Charlotte rushed around to discover Jeffrey before her: over six feet, far too broad and muscular for her to ever outrun. He gave her that same look, the one he’d given her all night, and her heart nearly burst with the pleasure of it. She wanted to be wanted the way he wanted her. It was something she’d craved her whole life.
“I just needed some fresh air,” she said.
“I see.”
Again, she spun with worry. Although his eyes reflected his lust, she felt fearful. If he’d been the one to murder her cousin, what would stop him from ripping the life from her, now? She imagined her mother and auntie mourning still longer, sewing more dresses, weeping into the night. She owed it to them to keep herself safe.
Suddenly, she couldn’t bear it any longer.
“How did you know that my cousin died?” she demanded. Her words were hard-edged, volatile. “You’re a newcomer here. You shouldn’t have had such information.”
Jeffrey arched his brow. “Everyone knows your cousin was murdered. That first ball I attended, the one where we met properly? Nearly everyone spoke about it.”
Charlotte knew this was so. Still, she couldn’t fully trust this man.
“You think I’m suspicious because I listen to gossip?” Jeffrey asked.
“Perhaps it’s silly,” Charlotte breathed. “Still. There are several things to be suspicious about when it comes to you.”
“Name one.”
“You’re far too interested in me. Everywhere I look, there you are. It feels very much as though you’re following me, and I can’t understand why. Something like this has never happened to me before,” she said. “And I can’t trust it.”
“I’m not,” Jeffrey returned. His voice was thick with what seemed to be resentment.
Charlotte flushed. “Then why did you ask me to dance?”
“Is it a crime to ask a beautiful woman to dance at a party?” he demanded.
Charlotte held his gaze for a long time. She opened her lips to protest. Jeffrey stepped back, his eyes darkening. He seemed very much entrenched in rage.
Suddenly, Charlotte said, “An investigator came to my estate. He wanted to know everything we could tell him about Brooks—about his friends, about his life. And he wanted to know where we were around the time of the murder.”
“I see.”
“Perhaps I should have mentioned your name,” Charlotte said. Her heart jumped around in her chest. Had she actually just said this? “I don’t know you, and I don’t know if I trust you. It stands to reason that I should have informed him to look out for you.”
Jeffrey chortled. He drew his arms over his chest and threw his head back to peer at the dark sky. Charlotte spun with rage. Why did he mock her so? Was it because he was on the verge of killing her?
“You think I killed your cousin. Don’t you?” Jeffrey asked.
Charlotte gritted her teeth. Although she suspected him, she detested the idea that he wanted to belittle her intelligence.
