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“It’s been a year since we lost my uncle—”
Charlotte pulled down a set of books covered in a green cloth. There was no title on the spine. How intriguing. The book fell open to an illustrated page that depicts a couple enjoying themselves. Without clothing.
Oh. A blush burned hot on her cheeks.
She snapped the book shut and added it to the Definitely pile.
“Good heavens! Why are you on the floor, Mr. Parkell?”
Jase kneeled on one knee. Charlotte had a good idea of what he was doing and it was dreadful.
“Madame Wodehouse, I would be honored if you would do me the honor…” He frowned at the repetition.
Oh no. This was a proposal.
“Absolutely not. Get up this instant before someone sees you and thinks you’re asking for my hand,” Charlotte said, tugging Jase to his feet.
“But I am.” He dug a ring out of his coat pocket.
“Don’t be silly.”
He held out the ring like he was offering a chunk of meat to a wild animal. The silver band shone in the lamplight, and the blue stones twinkled. It was a lovely ring but nothing in his demeanor—he had his head turned and his eyes screwed shut, for crying out loud—said he wanted this.
That made two of them.
“Absolutely not,” Charlotte said, pushing his hand away. “Put that away.”
Jase breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. Not that I find anything objectionable about you, Charlotte, but I don’t wish to marry you.”
Oh, she could think of a few objectionable qualities she possessed.
“Then what possessed you to propose?” she asked.
“It was Mother’s idea.”
That sounded exactly like Lattice Parkell, her late husband’s sister and current thorn in Charlotte’s side. Lattice had marched straight from her brother’s funeral to a solicitor’s office to gain control of Charlotte’s inheritance. They had spent much of the last year in courtrooms, dragging out all the dirty laundry. After the initial ruling that despite the brevity of Charlotte and Lionel’s union, no one could doubt the marriage was legitimate. The license had been signed and the ceremony witnessed by the entire village, after all. Then Lattice claimed that the union was unconsummated, thus invalid.
Charlotte was ever so thankful that her solicitor shut that down quickly. Besides being a desperate ploy, she did not want any scrutiny about her maidenhood.
Which brought them to the present—Lattice’s final ploy with Jase’s reluctant proposal in her deceased husband’s library.
The woman’s single-minded determination was something to be admired. If Lattice hadn’t taken such a dislike to Charlotte—and really, it wasn’t a dislike of Charlotte so much as a dislike of Charlotte taking control of her husband’s fortune—she and Lattice might have been friends. Well, friendly. Certainly cordial.
“Well, what a recommendation on my charms,” Charlotte said dryly.
Jase had the decency to flush with embarrassment. “I do admire you, Charlotte, but not romantically.”
Yes, he found nothing objectionable about her except he didn’t like her.
“Your mother needn’t have bothered with her schemes,” Charlotte said, pulling another book from the shelf. She flipped through the pages and added it to the Questionable pile. “I’ve decided to continue her allowance.”
“Have you? That’s generous.” Jase examined the book she recently added to the pile.
“That’s what Lionel would have wanted,” she said. It was almost a meaningless phrase, like she knew Lionel well enough to decide what he would have wanted. Her husband had so many secrets. Terrible secrets. She hardly knew him. “Anyway, it’s moot. I’ve written to ask her to oversee running Vervain while I’m away.”
Jase’s brows went up in surprise. “You’re giving her what she wants?”
“Temporarily. As much as I adore my father, his head is in the clouds. He can barely manage his own affairs, let alone run a household as complex as Vervain.”
