It was the first time in twenty years he had seen her cry.
When Charles made his exit from the drawing room a few moments later, the vicar was sitting on the bench in the entry hall.
“So it was you all along,” Gareth Lamb said flatly. “Yet you did nothing to help her.”
Charles paused, realizing all that Charlotte’s father had overheard. He took a deep breath, resigned. “Yes. I did nothing then.
You and I have that in common. But now I can. And I will.”
“Do not tell me you will marry my daughter in some foolhardy attempt to make restitution for past sins?”
Charles exhaled a dry puff of breath. “Is that not exactly what we are supposed to do—Reverend?”
When Charles returned with his young son to their London townhouse, he greeted the servants as politely as his exhaustion would allow and instructed the governess to put Edmund to bed straightaway. Weary from the journey and the encounters preceding it, Charles stepped toward the library, intending only to take a cursory look through the post to make sure nothing required his immediate attention before taking himself to bed. Passing by the sitting room doors, he was surprised to see his nephew William sprawled on the sofa, cravat askew and tumbler in hand. The young man did not bother to stand when Charles entered the room.
“William? I did not expect to find you here.”
“That sweet housemaid of yours let me in. Said I could wait for you.”
“I hope you’ve not been waiting long.”
William shrugged. “Two days.” He sipped from his glass.
“What do you want?”
“To help myself to your port, as you see. As well as a little holiday from the missus. I haven’t the luxury of two dwellings as you do.”
Charles bit back his annoyance. “I see.”
“And how fares Fawnwell? I suppose you saw Beatrice Lamb?”
“I did.”
“As cold and serious and delicious as always, I suppose?”
Charles sighed in frustration. “I do not understand you, William.
You had your chance with her and gave it up.”
“Yes. A pity. She is one of those rare women who is more attractive stern than smiling. Have you noticed that?”
Charles walked back to the doors and shut them carefully before turning again to face him. “Did you never have serious intentions toward Miss Lamb?” he demanded.
“Oh yes. I seriously intended to preempt your intentions.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should think that evident. You know I had always counted on being your heir—back when I still thought you had something to inherit, that is.” William reached for the bottle on the side table and refilled his glass. “I had believed you a confirmed bachelor, which was jolly good for me. But then I heard you were showing a great deal of interest in one of the vicar’s daughters.
Thus, I decided to deduce which of them it was and to win the lady—and keep the inheritance—for myself.” He raised his glass in mock toast.
“Of all the presumptuous—”
“Yes, yes.” He waved away Charles’ censor with a casual flip of his free hand. “And I deduced it was young Charlotte you admired within ten minutes of stepping foot inside the vicarage.”
Charles stared at him, silent anger building in his chest.
“Youdidplan to marry Charlotte Lamb, did you not?” William asked.
