“There was an incident with highwaymen, My Lady. I’m afraid that help could not reach them in time,” his voice trailed off on a sad note in the same kind of manner that Ana’s had done.
Ana came up by her side and placed her arm around her mistress’s shoulders, offering what little comfort she could under the challenging circumstances.
The memory suddenly became hazy after that as tears filled her eyes. Charlotte could recall the way she had felt, a deep and intense aching that filled her chest, but not what the constable had said after that. His voice had somehow become muffled through the lens of her pain.
“Must you continue with that noise all the blasted time!” The door suddenly slammed shut with a loud bang.
Charlotte jumped as her hands froze over the keys, the past had so consumed her mind that she hadn’t even heard her uncle entering the room. She wasn’t even sure if she had finished the song or not. Turning in her seat, Charlotte calmly placed her hands in her lap and faced the man who had become her guardian after her parents had died. Years of experience had taught her to keep her wits about her whenever he drank.
The unwelcome stench of hard liquor filled her nostrils as he stumbled forward, nearly tripping over the rug as he struggled.
“I apologize if I disturbed you, Uncle Reginald. I’m afraid that my mind was far away,” she apologized with a stiff smile on her thin lips, straightening her back. Her father’s brother hadn’t mistreated her in the years since he’d adopted her, but he hadn’t exactly been the loving father either.
He’d doted on her in the eyes of the ton and always ensured that she had everything she needed. Yet there was never a moment of caring where he’d ask her if she was truly happy in life.
“Disturb me? My dear, you have been disturbing our neighbours for three years. Your incessant playing at all hours of the night has long been the bane of my existence.”
He sneered at her with a nasty grin as he swayed from side to side, holding a half-empty bottle of liquor in his hand. A few drops sloshed from the neck, falling to his feet and staining the red Persian rug that Charlotte’s late father had purchased on one of his business trips.
His words reached her heart with a dull ache despite the intoxication she knew was clouding his mind. Lord Reginald Grey, Viscount of Grey Manor, was a charming and likeable man when he was sober but a man to be reckoned with when he took to the bottle.
He glared at her with beady brown eyes that matched the colour of his hair and spindly moustache. His neatly tailored suit clung to his bony frame like cloth that had been draped over a scarecrow.
“Besides your off-key musical skills that are lacking in both grace and timing, I have come with news.” He stumbled slightly to the side before steadying himself on the back of a leather armchair.
Charlotte braced herself for whatever her uncle had cooked up in his altered state of mind, clenching her fists over her knees. He always seemed to come up with schemes that involved selling her to the highest bidder when he was drunk.
“There is to be a ball tomorrow night at Lady Carter’s manor. Anyone who is anyone in the eyes of the ton will be in attendance.” He hiccupped before taking another swig from the bottle.
“Is it really necessary to attend another ball so soon? Surely, we have fulfilled our social quota this season.” She recalled all of the balls her uncle had dragged her to in the past month. She’d lost count of all the men she’d been forced to dance with at her uncle’s behest.
Reginald’s eyes suddenly narrowed as he glared at her and pushed himself up straight.
“How dare you question a decision that I have made. Have you not had a roof over your head and food to eat these past three years? I could have thrown you away the minute your parents left, but instead, I chose to raise you as my own.” The hint of darkness in his voice made Charlotte recoil slightly as she shifted on her seat.
It was true that he hadn’t cast her off or sent her to live at some finishing school or forgotten country home, but she hadn’t had a choice in the matter either. If she’d been given half the chance, she would have chosen to live the life of a country mouse rather than be forced to marry a man of good standing she hardly knew.
“You will attend the ball tomorrow evening, and you will behave in a manner that is befitting of your family name. And I do not wish to hear any more complaints on the matter.” His bony fingers curled around the neck of the bottle.
A shiver of fear ran down her spine as Charlotte locked eyes with her uncle. The lack of familial love she saw there made her wonder if she was indeed safe in his care. Did he see her as his niece or just an inconvenience that needed to be dealt with as soon as possible? She knew that the man must have had some form of love for her father; they had been brothers, after all. She just wasn’t certain if he loved her enough to keep her in his care.
“Be ready by six; one of the most eligible bachelors of the season will be there tomorrow night,” he snarled at her through his yellowing teeth before turning to leave. His unkempt moustache boasted a few drops of the liquid that altered his mood.
Watching him leave, Charlottle wondered what the future would hold for her if her uncle persisted in forcing her into a marriage of his choosing. What would the man be like? Would he abuse her and use her for his own personal gain? Or would she be cast aside like so many of the ladies who entered into arranged marriages of convenience? Only time would tell. Heaving a deep sigh of sorrow and burden, she turned back to the keys and began to play a sad song that depicted her innermost thoughts.
***
Reginald stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind him as he leaned against the wood. His plans were beginning to come together nicely; it may have taken a little longer than he had intended, but soon, the girl would be out of his hair forever.
Shutting his eyes for a moment, he listened to the sad melody his niece banged out on the pianoforte he wished he could hurl through an open window. It had been three long years of listening to her disrupt his peace.
He thought of the tears he saw in her eyes when he had entered the room.
Was she crying over her parents again?
A wave of anger made him clench his jaw and grip the neck of the nearly empty whisky bottle even tighter. Things could have been very different for him if the night of the ball had gone as planned …
Shaking his head, he heaved a heavy sigh and downed the rest of the amber liquid that singed his throat on the way down. None of it would matter soon if he could just enact the final part of his plan. Things would fall into place as they should have done three years prior when his brother had left him his title, home, and daughter.
