“This young lady is somewhat different,” he said, a curl to his lip. “She is my sister, Lady Constance Brighton.”
The sound of his family name startled the woman somewhat, and she snapped mud-brown eyes to his face. “Brighton?” she clarified.
“That is correct. She is about your height, perhaps a little taller, with brown hair and blue eyes.” Aaron allowed himself a grim smile. “In fact, I have been frequently assured we resemble one another.”
“Well in that case…” the barmaid pursed her lips, “I do recall a gentleman coming in here and just clarifying the way to the border. There was a young lady just as you described with him, but he called herhissister.”
Aaron clenched his fists before saying in a tight voice, “Understandably so.” Allowing the barmaid to interpret that as she would, he tossed a coin onto the counter. “For your time and your patience,” he said and ducked out of the inn.
So, this mystery gentleman fully intended to take Constance to the border. Aaron closed his eyes and inhaled. What a monster of a problem this was turning out to be, but there was nothing for him but to return home and make plans for his immediate travel to the border. It was unlikely he could prevent them from being married, but perhaps he could get it annulled if the gentleman was unsuitable.
And the gall of informing that barmaid—who, Aaron did not doubt, had a loose tongue and looser morals—that Constance was his sister. Of course, from a logical standpoint, that was the sensible and safest course of action, but Aaron was not in a mood to appreciate the sensible or the logical. And when he arrived home to be informed that the ladies awaited his arrival and his presence in the drawing room, his temper only worsened.
“There you are, Aaron,” his aunt said as she threaded some thread through a needle. “We thought you had abandoned us.”
Charlotte and her mother both sat beside one another although Aaron noted there was a little space between them and a certain coldness in the air he could only attribute to some form of disagreement. He had no desire to find out what form that disagreement took.
“I was looking for my sister,” he said curtly. “And the inquiries I made pointed to her being taken to Gretna Green. I will make haste there tomorrow.”
“Do you expect to find her there?” Charlotte asked.
“I hope so, but I hardly know what I will find.”
“You cannot think of going alone, of course,” Charlotte’s mother said with a glance at Charlotte, Aaron didn’t know how to decipher. “We will be more than happy to accompany you.”
“If she truly is married,” Octavia said, her gaze on the cushion she was embroidering, “I hardly suppose chasing after her to Gretna Green will achieve anything other than encouraging talk among the locals. She will return here once she is ready to do so.”
“If she is sequestered somewhere with an unknown gentleman, I intend to do all I can to ensure her safety,” Aaron said, a snap to his voice, “whatever that entails.”
“But of course,” Octavia murmured. “If you think it is best. But as that is not to happen until tomorrow—and with good reason, considering it shall soon be dark—you must strive to forget such disagreeable things while we have guests.”
“We do not object,” Lady Lowood began, but Octavia waved an airy hand.
“I thought he could show Lady Charlotte the garden now that it has stopped raining,” she said. “It is not at its best, of course, but it would give her an idea of what it will look like in the summer.”
That made the assumption she would be here to see it in the summer, and one glance at Charlotte told him she was thinking the exact same thing, but to his surprise, she rose and offered him her hand.
“I have a desire to walk,” she said. “If you would do me the honor of showing me the formal gardens.” Charlotte’s mother made a move as though she would accompany them, but Octavia shook her head, and the two were allowed to leave the room peacefully.
“I’m sorry about my aunt,” Aaron said as soon as they were out of earshot.
“And I’m sorry about my mother,” Charlotte said, her hand on his arm tightening into a fist. “I suppose everyone is intent on us marrying and my inheriting this house to run.” She laughed, but the sound was a little sad.
“We do not have to explore the gardens if you do not wish.”
“No, please, get me out of this house.” She glanced at him up through her eyelashes. “I apologize if that was rude—this is a lovely house.”
“No offense taken.” Aaron tried not to look at Charlotte or think about the fact that they would shortly be alone and out of sight of the house. Perhaps he should have availed himself with the barmaid after all. “I, too, would prefer the outdoors in times such as these.”
“I shall be glad when we locate Constance,” Charlotte said. They turned around the side of the house, past the long expanse of lawn, and through to the formal gardens, hedges hiding them from sight as they wandered the tiny gravel paths. “These are lovely gardens. Very similar to the ones at Hexham Manor in London.”
“And you were intimately acquainted with those gardens as I remember it.”
She flushed. “Hardly intimately acquainted, but I was… Oh, is it so bad to admit I was hiding? Sebastian had been so odious, and everyone was fawning over you, and I had no desire to be at the ball at all.”
“Not odious,” he said with a grin at the simple charm of her confession, “if you allow me to apologize for my behavior toward you. I was a little inebriated and not in my best frame of mind.”
“You were also perfectly odious.” She looked up at him with a smile that took his breath away with its beauty—and the teasing note that lay underneath her words. “But I will confess I offered some provocation.”
