“Are you certain?” he asked, holding her gaze with his dark stare.
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you know of it?”
“I know that your plan requires that you marry well.” He cleared his throat. “And I know that I meet or exceed all your qualifications for a husband.”
A harsh laugh burst from her lips as she stared at him in amused shock. “Is that an offer, Lord Redington?”
Ralston did not flinch. “It is.”
Charlotte’s chest squeezed so tight her laugh sounded a bit like she was choking. But his gaze never wavered.
“You’re out of your mind,” she whispered.
He arched a brow and a curl lifted the corner of his mouth as he parted his lips to answer.
Before he could, the sound of someone swiftly approaching through the garden prevented further discussion as they both tensed. If they were seen alone in the private, darkened corner while in such intimate postures, a scandal would be unavoidable. And though Charlotte held her breath, the marquess held her gaze with his. His dark stare intent as he remained at her side.
Rapid footsteps fell softly along the garden path, getting nearer. Close enough that it was clear they’d soon be seen. But the marquess did not stir. Not to hide or flee. He remained steady, his arm at her back, his thigh pressed along hers.
The gasp that drifted through the night was undeniably female and caused Redington’s features to darken with a fierce scowl as he glanced over Charlotte’s shoulder. “Eleanor?”
His tone was low and incredulous.
“Goodness, Ralston,” his sister hissed in surprise.
Charlotte turned to see the lovely young woman standing with her hand on over her heart. Her dark eyes were wide as her gaze flew back and forth from Charlotte to the marquess and back again before sending her attention outward toward the rear garden wall.
“You cannot be out here,” she muttered fiercely.
The marquess made a harsh sound in his throat and rose to his feet, pulling Charlotte up along with him. “You’re right. Thank you.” He sighed gruffly. “Head back to the ball. We’ll be right behind you,”
There was a subtle hesitation as the woman glanced to the wall again, then she nodded and slipped away into the shadows.
Charlotte would have wagered anything that the marquess’s sister had not come to the garden to warn them. But she was grateful all the same.
She walked beside Redington in silence. Just before reaching the light spilling out from the terrace, he paused.
“Our conversation is not finished, Miss Dickson.”
“We cannot enter together.” Stepping away from him, she carefully scanned the entrance to the ballroom to avoid looking at him again.
“I shall expect an answer.”
“Wait five minutes,” she muttered before rushing toward the light. She could feel him watching her. The pull of his gaze a magnetic force urging her to return to the shadows and his arms. She resisted.
Pausing at the ballroom doors, she pressed her cool fingers to her heated cheeks. No doubt her eyes were still red rimmed from her crying, but there was little she could do about that. Once inside, she easily became swallowed by the crowd and it took longer than she’d have liked to find the countess. Gratefully, the many glances she cast over her shoulder never found the sight of Redington in purposeful pursuit behind her.
As soon as Lady Henmere saw her, she knew something was wrong. They made their excuses and left the ball immediately. Though she could feel her aunt’s compassionate, curious gaze, Charlotte focused her attention out the window, doing all she could to contain the raw emotions still churning through her. She thought she’d managed to regain control, but as soon as they stepped into the comforting familiarity of the countess’s home, Charlotte started crying once again. Grief poured from her soul in torrents she feared might never end.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The countess immediatelyled Charlotte to her personal sitting room and rang for tea. Despite the late hour, the service was swift and efficient. Within moments, Charlotte was seated beside her aunt on the soft sofa, a steaming cup in her hand and tears drying on her cheeks.
“Tell me what has happened,” the countess urged gently.
Pressing a hand to her stomach to quell the emotional queasiness that had settled there, Charlotte took a deep breath through her nose then replied simply, “I saw them. They were there.”
“Who—?” The countess stopped with a gasp. “Oh.” She reached out to rest a warm hand in Charlotte’s chilled fingers. “My dear, I’m so sorry. I feared such a thing would occur eventually though I did my best to prevent it. Were they awful to you?”
