“Nonsense, Margaret.” Frank shook his head. “I need you in London to help quiet these gossips you insist will plague us.”
“But, Frank—”
“I will care for him.” The words were out of Lottie’s mouth before she had even consciously thought them.
Every head turned her way.
Again, as if surprised to find Lottie still in the room.
Heavens, was she truly so invisible?
“Let me remain here,” Lottie continued. “My absence will not be noted in London, and I can see to the care of Dr. Whitaker.”
Silence greeted her words. As if the occupants of the room were startled that Lottie would yet, once more, have tossed her opinions into the middle of a family gathering. Freddie stirred in Lottie’s arms.
“I like this idea,” Grandmère nodded.
Margaret’s distress increased. “We cannot possibly leave Lottie here. She is needed with us. Besides, she cannot be alone with Dr. Whitaker. It would not be proper.”
Ferndown turned the full weight of his gaze on Lottie. “I admit to some reservations, as well—”
“Bah!” Grandmère waved her hand. “It is an excellent solution, Your Grace. I like it very much. Leave Charlotte to oversee the care of the wounded doctor. She is most capable. Besides, the doctor is a cousin—heisfamily—therefore Charlotte’s reputation will be safe, particularly with myself in residence to act as chaperone. No one will consider itde trop.”
Margaret bit her lip as if wishing to argue.
“I am most capable,” Lottie rushed to say. In all truth, the more she pondered the idea, the more she liked it. “And Grandmère and I can join you all in London once the doctor is well enough to travel.” She scrambled, reaching for more reasons. “Even better, I can speak with Dr. Whitaker about committing to sign the Writ of Attainder once he is well enough to travel.”
More silence greeted her.
Frank snorted.
Ferndown sighed, rubbing a hand over his side whiskers.
Margaret continued to wring her handkerchief, clearly wanting to argue but not sure if it was wise.
Only Grandmère stitched away, unconcerned.
“You have volunteered, Lady Charlotte.” Ferndown fixed Lottie his ducal stare. “But this is a heavy task for anyone, much less a young lady. We need Dr. Whitaker to agree to the Writ of Attainder.”
Lottie swallowed, pulling Freddie’s sleeping body closer. “I will see it through. I will fight for Freddie to receive his rightful inheritance.”
“Familae primum semper cognosce,” Frank murmured, eyeing his empty glass.
“Precisely.” Lottie met her brother-in-law’s gaze. “I will always put the needs of our family first.”
“Like you did during the reading of Lockheade’s will?” Frank’s eyes sparked in the dim light.
Lottie flinched.
Ferndown looked between them, gaze dark and inscrutable.
“Familae primum semper cognosce,” the duke repeated the motto. “See what you can do to convince the doctor, Lady Charlotte. We will depend upon you.”
“I’m sorry Frankwas so unbearably rude to you this evening,” Margaret murmured.
Lottie stroked Freddie’s soft curls. She and Margaret were nestled into Freddie’s bed, his small body cuddled between them. This had been their way from that first afternoon after his birth—Lottie to one side, Margaret to the other, and Freddie snuggled between.
It was a place of comfort for Lottie. Where she and Margaret had cried their tears for Anne, then Gabriel, and finally Papa. Whenever she was sad or lonely, a long cuddle with Freddie soothed her soul.
