“Of course, I didn’t,” she said, drawing her hand from his. “What paper would believe me even if I did claim this?”
“Liar.” Marcella’s cheeks were slicked with tears. “You would love nothing better than to be a Duchess. Admit it.”
“Now then,” Anastasia said, laying down the paper. “Marcella, there is no need for that behavior. If you cannot contain yourself, you may leave the table.”
“Mama,” Charlotte pleaded. “Tell me this is some kind of prank.”
“Well, I don’t suppose it’s by anyone from this family if it is,” her mother said.
“I won’t stand for it,” Sebastian said, slamming his hand against the table. “She should not be made to marry anyone she doesn’t wish to marry.”
Anastasia leveled a long look at him. “I agree entirely, but I rather fancy we can use this situation to our advantage even if it is a prank.”
“Absolutely not!” Sebastian said.
“Our family has little except our name at present,” Anastasia continued without pause, “and a connection to the Duke would not be an inconsiderable advantage.”
“Only if the Duke allows the connection.” Charlotte placed the back of her fingers against her burning cheeks. After everything that had transpired between them in the gardens, this was the most ill-timed prank. No doubt the Duke would see it as an attempt to secure him, and he may even be tempted to reveal the truth of what occurred in the gardens. She would be ruined. “Mama,” she said, trying to keep her tone level, “consider how angry the Duke must be at this news. We have never even been formally introduced.”
“He cannot extract himself from this arrangement without a great inconvenience and some scandal,” Anastasia said smugly, “and with his sister missing, having left the Earl of Newtown at the altar, I can assure you he will be keen to avoid any further scandal.”
“I cannot believe you’d be so scheming,” Sebastian said, staring at Anastasia. “Fear not, Charlotte, I shall do all I can to rid ourselves of this arrangement.”
“I would beg you not to act foolishly and in haste.” Anastasia tapped the paper. “You would not wantourfamily to suffer the indignities of scandal merely because you were rash.”
Sebastian closed his mouth, his face an odd blotchy color. Charlotte reflected, not for the first time, that she was glad she would not be marrying him. “You are very certain of events,” he said stiffly after a moment. “Anyone would think you had concocted this plan yourself.”
“Merely knowing how to make the best of a situation is not the same as plotting against my own daughter,” Anastasia said, a sharpness in her words that ended all arguments to the contrary. “Now, my dear, you mustn’t worry. All will be right in the end.”
If she were to meet the Duke again in any capacity, all wouldnotbe all right. Charlotte closed her eyes and tried to push away the memory of his lips on hers. Heavens above, that she should be trapped in a false engagement with the Duke of all men. It was intolerable, and even more so that her mother didn’t see her plight.
“You may be at ease,” Sebastian said to her in a low voice as Anastasia turned her attention to Marcella whose tears had in no way slowed. “I shan’t allow this marriage to go ahead if it’s the last thing I do.”
Charlotte had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t even be given the opportunity to refuse the match—the Duke would, no doubt, be on the warpath. Best-case scenario, the engagement would be dissolved, no doubt with some level of scandal attached to her name. Worst-case scenario, the Duke would be angry enough to reveal what happened between them in the garden, and she would be ruined forever.
Charlotte suspected she knew which scenario was more likely.
ChapterFive
To Charlotte’s relief, the next day did not bring an angry Duke with it, and she was not required to explain herself or her actions. Thus, when she dressed for the Haversham Ball, her nerves had mostly calmed.
“If he wereveryangry, he would have come already,” she told herself, looking at herself in the mirror. Worry had rendered her pale, but she pinched her cheeks.Perhaps he doesn’t mean to dissolve the match at all.
The thought brought her no comfort; if he did not dissolve the match, she would be obliged to, and that would almost be worse than having him end their phony engagement. Almost.
Although the more she thought about it, the more she rather enjoyed the idea of refusing him. He deserved a set-down, and if she were the one to give it to him, she would not be entirely dissatisfied.
Of course, assuming he did not then reveal everything. What a hateful situation. She scowled at her reflection, noting the way the expression pinched her mouth and wrinkled her nose. Perhaps if she always looked at him like this, there could be no reason for him to want to marry her.
Not, of course, she reminded herself, that he would anyway. He would see that it was her, he would presume she was attempting to entrap him, and he would be angry enough that he would end the engagement immediately. Thus reassured, she descended to where Sebastian waited at the bottom of the stairs. Left without much choice, she accepted his arm, and he guided her to the carriage.
“You look wonderful today,” he said warmly. Charlotte glanced down at her pale primrose muslin. Primrose was not a color that suited her—it made her skin look a little sallow—but Marcella had, in a fit of spite, left her with no choice. Primrose was a color that would have suited Marcella very well indeed.
“Thank you, Sebastian,” Charlotte said as repressively as she dared.
“If you’re concerned about the Duke being present at the ball,” Sebastian said, “let me assure you, I shall not leave your side.”
“Really, that’s not necessary—”
