Heat, swiftly followed by cold, swept through Aaron. He stepped back from the door and stared at it for a moment, all senses stripped from him as his world swung on its axis around him.
Lady Lowood had been the one to plant the engagement announcement in the papers? He’d been set up and guided by a hand he’d come to love. After all, Lady Lowood must have done so with Charlotte’s consent for the end result had come to pass.
All her claims that she loved him were false? He had done what every young, foolish man did and given his heart to a calculating woman who had used him for his position. He—a man who considered himself to be anything but young and foolish—had been hooked in the oldest game in the book. Well, no longer.
He couldn’t be certain how much time had passed while he stared sightlessly at the door, but it was long enough that by the time he roused himself enough to listen to the conversation again, it was in time to hear Charlotte say,“We can never tell the Duke of this, Mama.”
He pushed every ounce of hurt back inside him as he opened the door and entered the door. Charlotte glanced back at him, shock crossing her face at the sight of him. Shock—and could that be guilt? No doubt she didn’t want to be caught.
“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary,” Aaron said smoothly, summoning a smile; the very same smile that had served him well at every social function he’d been forced to attend as a boy. What was a Duke if not a man accustomed to concealing his feelings? “It appears I have been played by an expert hand indeed.”
“Your Grace—” Anastasia said, but he held up a hand, and her voice fell away.
“I’m afraid there’s no need for that. I’m sure you are keen to explain yourself, but I have no intention of listening to anything more you have to say, Lady Lowood.”
Charlotte stared at him, an odd flush rising in her cheeks. If he had been a more forgiving man, he might have been induced to fall for the pleading look in her eyes—the look that suggested her entire world might fall apart if he walked away—but he was not a forgiving man, and his world had already been shattered.
“As for you,” he said, every word biting, “I might have suspected you’d have had a hand in all this. How very convenient that in a moment you needed marriage the most, you contrived to find yourself engaged to me.”
“Aaron, listen—”
“Excuses don’t fly with me. Not today, and especially not when I am faced with the unenviable task of ending our arrangement. I won’t deny it was fun while it lasted”—bitterness had him giving Charlotte a cold smile that caused her mother to look at her in shock—“but I will not be shackled to such an unashamed hussy.”
Charlotte swallowed. “You have to believe me when I say—”
“I have to believe nothing. What’s more, I expect you to end the engagement. I will not have my reputation ruined over a matter of your doing.”
“I have no wish to end the engagement,” Charlotte said quietly. “I never once lied to you.”
“Did you not?” He arched his brows in a way that made her flinch, but he refused to feel guilty. “Are you telling me you didnotconspire to marry me in an attempt to save you from your cousin?” Hurt had him turning away from her and the way she lifted her hand toward him. “Unfortunately, whether you choose to quietly end the engagement, or whether I reveal the truth, you will have little choice but to submit to your cousin.”
“Please, Your Grace,” Lady Lowood said, holding her hands up in a placatory gesture. “Believe me when I say Charlotte had nothing to do with this.”
“Doing it a little too brown, aren’t we?” His voice was cold. “A little too convenient that Charlotte managed to convince me to marry her according to your plan.”
“If you recall,” Charlotte said quietly, “I had not initially wished to go through with the engagement.”
“A ploy which succeeded in the opposite.” He turned and strode to the door. “This interview is over. But before I take my leave, let me assure you in no uncertain terms that whatever you may wish now—whatever are your aims—this engagement is over. We will never marry, Charlotte Calore. Never.”
ChapterTwenty-Two
Days passed dazed in shock. Charlotte hardly knew if she was coming or going. Marcella gloated from a distance, Sebastian did his best to appear concerned while secretly rejoicing, and her mother apologized for every role in the matter.
Charlotte knew not how to feel.
The news that their engagement had ended shocked theton. This was all as it had been originally intended; Aaron had told his associates that she had ended the engagement, as was within her right as a lady, and she was certain he was not trying to play the broken-hearted man.
As to whether hewasbroken-hearted or not, she couldn’t say. It had been so hard to see past his icy exterior when he had burst in on them, and since then she hadn’t seen him. That was hardly surprising—she had forgone every opportunity to present herself in society for fear of encountering him, and nothing Sebastian or her mother could say prevailed on her to go.
The quiet evenings soothed her aching soul and gave her opportunity to mourn the first love she’d ever known, and the empty days gave her ample time to wish things had been different. To wish her mother had not schemed on her behalf.
“Come now,” Sebastian said with false joviality. “Come and walk with me, Charlotte. You can, you know, without an escort as I am your cousin.”
“It would be good to get some fresh air, my love,” Anastasia said with unusual gentleness. “You’re looking a little pale.”
“Very well,” Charlotte said. “If you insist.”
“Are things so bad between us that you do not wish to walk with me?” Sebastian demanded.
