He lowered the paper. “I rather consider it a lucky escape?”
“Heavens, Aaron, must you always be so dull and proper? Can’t you see she’s in love with you?”
“I fancy your definition oflovediffers from mine.”
“Tosh. I’ve seen it, even if you don’t want to.”
“You forget,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “that she ended the engagement with me.”
“And you’re telling me that wasn’t because you coerced her into it somehow?” Constance sighed, sitting up and tilting her head at Aaron. “Don’t try to conceal the truth, Aaron. I know you too well for this. Did you grow tired of her?”
“This is really none of your business.”
“Did you tell her to end the engagement, so you could marry another?”
Aaron put the paper carefully to one side. “I did not invite you into my home, so you could tax me about my relationship, and how it ended, with Lady Charlotte.”
“She’s back to being Lady Charlotte now?” Constance raised her eyebrows at him. “As foryourhouse—this has been my house as long as I have lived.”
“You revoked that right when you ran away with Edward.” Aaron knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. After all, if she hadn’t made that terrible decision to flee to Gretna Green, he might never have had to engage on his agreement with Charlotte, and she would never have manipulated him in this way. “This is my house, and I am allowing you to live here, but do not believe this will be a long-term solution.”
Constance paled. “And to think I had considered you once a generous brother.”
“That was before you tried my patience, Constance.”
She stood, her dress rustling, anger on her face. “Perhaps I was wrong—perhaps Charlotte did end the engagement after all after she saw the man you have become. And I don’t blame her—I would not wish any woman the ignominy of marrying you!”
“Constance—” But it was too late; the door slammed behind her, and Aaron was left alone in the room. He pressed a hand to his forehead. He shouldn’t have lost his temper with her—after all, he had no intention of casting her or Edward out onto the streets—but she had contrived to rile him in every conceivable way by discussing Charlotte in such terms.
Charlotte hadn’t been in society since he’d found out of her little scheme. Perhaps she feared what he might say about her, but she was mistaken there; no matter how angry he might be with her—and he was extremely angry with her—darkening her reputation was not something he intended to do unless she forced him into it. And considering she had made no attempt to salvage the relationship, he could hardly think that was her intention.
He groaned and picked up the paper once more, but there was little within its pages that could hold his attention. The only thing he could think of, much to his chagrin, was a certain lady with blue eyes and a shy smile and a temper that could, on occasion, rival his.
She had not wanted the engagement to end, but she hadn’t fought it. Was that an indication of love? He had been so certain when they’d lain together that she had loved him, but now his every thought was tangled around the idea that she had deceived him. She had come to him with every intention of making him her husband, and she had almost gotten away with it.
He had almost married her, and her deceit would have gone undiscovered until it was too late. And married to her he would have been—
He groaned and pressed his face into the fresh, ironed sheets of his paper. If he had married her, he might have been happy, and that was the worst truth of all.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Lady Henley’s soiree was in truth an excellent event to get Lady Charlotte back into society without attempting a large entrance. Lady Henley had extended an invitation to Sebastian and his extended family, no doubt in part out of curiosity.
Her mother had tried to persuade her not to attend. Sebastian would no doubt have prevented her from going had she not so expressly told Lord Routley that she would be there. As for Marcella—
“You do knoweveryoneis talking about it,” the younger girl said spitefully. “No doubt he discovered something terrible about you—or perhaps just that you’re practically an old maid—and broke things off with you.”
“We ended things amicably,” Charlotte said though that was so far from the truth as to be ludicrous. She touched the pearls threaded through her hair and wondered if they would make up for the hollow look in her eyes. “Why must you presume the Duke ended things with me?”
“Because you weredesperateto marry him.” Marcella clasped a thin golden bracelet around her slim wrist. “And because I know you would never throw away a chance to marry a Duke.”
“That is entirely untrue, and you know it.”
“Really? Is that the reason you’ve been steadfastly turning my brother down?”
Charlotte’s cheeks heated. “My relationship with your brother is none of your concern.”
“I can’t imaginewhySeb would want to marry you, but it’s clear he does, and you should give that consideration.”
