“Unfortunately, yes.” Matthew slammed his cane against the ground in a rare outward expression of anger. But then his expression smoothed as it always did. “But Lottie isn’t allowing herself to be cowed. In fact, she’s embarked on her own grand escapade.”
Lady Charlotte. She’d been a whirl of skirts the first time twelve-year-old Matthew had seen her as she’d nearly tackled her brother with her exuberant embrace. She’d summarily grabbed her sibling’s hand, chattering away about all the happenings Alexander had missed while he’d been away at school, from the vicar’s new baby stealing everyone’s attention at the Sunday sermon to her thoughts onRobinson Crusoe, to the growing hedgehog family in the home garden. When Lady Charlotte had finally noticed Matthew standing utterly still in the darkest corner of the foyer, her smile hadn’t dimmed a whit. He, of course, had only managed a faint grin.
“What do you mean Charlotte is undertaking her own adventure?” Matthew asked as a fierce protectiveness billowed through him. He couldn’t allow Hawley’s blackness to seep into Charlotte’s life. With the joy she gave to others, she deserved happiness.
Alexander’s perennial grin returned along with a decidedly enigmatic twist to his lips. “Once we’re ensconced in the Black Sheep, I’ll tell you more.” Alexander waited a beat and waggled his brows. “In the clandestine room, of course.”
Matthew didn’t even try to suppress a groan. He was accustomed to Alexander’s mercurial moods and knew his friend hid his worries and pain behind jokes and grins, but Matthew didn’t wishto be reminded of the changes to his preferred establishment. He just wanted to head inside the familiar coffeehouse and sip on bitter brew while he and Alexander plotted to reveal Hawley’s true nature.
“You’ll appreciate the changes. I promise.” Alexander started walking again, his cane clicking merrily along the cobblestones.
With a start, Matthew realized they’d stopped only a few feet away from the Black Sheep. Hurrying after his friend, Matthew caught up to Alexander just as he was opening the heavy front door. Falling silent, Matthew stepped inside after Alexander and surveyed the familiar space. It was curiously less crowded than normal for that time of day, and definitely less noisy. Although many of the regulars were still clustered around the tables and were speaking passionately, the energy didn’t feel the same. It didn’t appear gutted… just a wee bit duller. Matthew wasn’t sure though, if it was an actual shift in atmosphere or just that everything felt darker after learning of Hawley’s impending betrothal to Lady Charlotte.
Miss Hannah Wick drifted over, giving them a wink. “Why, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Dr. Talbot! I do hope your journey went well. Has Lord Heathford told you about the alteration to our brew?”
“The coffee has changed too?” Matthew asked. Swounds, had they made the swill worse? The Black Sheep did offer a better drink than most of the establishments, but it still wasn’t exactly an appealing beverage. The refreshing jolt it gave a man, however, more than made up for its flavor.
“I haven’t told him all of it. I thought I’d let him get a taste for himself,” Alexander explained.
“You won’t share our recipe, Dr. Talbot?”
Hannah’s green gaze bored into Matthew, and he realized her question carried hidden meaning. Although he still didn’t possessany clue as to what they were actually talking about, he nodded. He might not particularly like secrets, but he damn well knew how to keep them. He wouldn’t have survived these past few years if he didn’t.
“He wouldn’t dream of revealing your most unusual ingredients,” Alexander promised Hannah.
“Come along then.” Sending her mobcap bouncing, Hannah set off briskly toward the back of the shop. Pushing open a door, she led them into a narrow passage that had always been off-limits to customers. Once the door shut behind them, she pressed on an inconspicuous piece of paneling in the wall.
It swung wide to reveal a boisterous gathering that looked more like a sartorial print from William Hogarth’s A Rake’s Progress series than a real-life tableau. The cushions on the rather plainly carved furniture were stuffed near to bursting; they were so sinfully plump. It appeared nigh impossible for a human being to maintain good posture on them. They were clearly designed for lounging… and for pleasing the body rather than the eye. The white daub walls had been covered with a coat of powder blue, and the ceiling had even been painted with a few clouds in Continental fashion. Conversation burbled around like a series of fountains in a French-style formal garden. Lighter feminine voices mixed with the deeper tones of masculine ones. Between the potent mix of colognes and the bright silk clothing of the men and women, the hidden space brought to mind a glasshouse—full of blooms gathered from all corners of the world that would ne’er grow together in nature.
Despite the perfumed assault on the entirety of Matthew’s senses, what immobilized him faster than the venom of a cobra de capello was the sight of Lady Charlotte seated at the very center point of the gathering. He swore her unpowdered auburn hair glowed with its own light.
At the unexpected sight of her, the air whooshed from his body. Matthew had not laid eyes on Alexander’s twin sister for years. He’d been ousted from polite society after he’d scandalously decided to earn a living as a physician and professor rather than become a vicar or a military officer. His decision to learn the skills of surgeons, an uneducated profession associated with barbers, had earned him only more derision. But his most unforgiveable transgression was his choice to eschew his right as a son of a duke to be called Lord Matthew Talbot and instead select to be addressed as a doctor, a title he’d earned through his formal education.
Lady Charlotte tipped back her head and laughed, her painted lips parted in the most inviting manner. The melodic sound found its way into Matthew’s heart and then curled up there. Lady Charlotte had always had this effect on him, ever since he’d first laid eyes on her all those years ago at her family’s country seat. At Falcondale Hall, Matthew had discovered more than a respite from his siblings’ merciless pranks and his father’s disdain… He’d found Lady Charlotte.
“Dr. Matthew Talbot!” Lady Charlotte’s voice had gained a rich flavor since their childhood days, and it dumbfounded him as much as a bee confronted with a smoker. But unlike an apis mellifera, he was not lulled into a stupor but rather besieged by too much vigor. His heart pounded, his chest contracted, his throat tightened, and his intellect… well his intellect struggled under the heft of his physical reactions.
“Milady.” He had to force the single word through tightly bound muscles.
When he and Alexander reached Lady Charlotte’s side, Matthew bobbed slightly. Some of his unfashionably short hair slipped from its binding. Hastily, Matthew tucked the wayward chunk behind his ear.
Lady Charlotte, in contrast, was perfection personified. Not oneTitian red strand dared to spring loose from the tight curls of her elegant coiffure. Gone was the wild hoyden who would climb down a tree from her window to join her brother and Matthew for a romp through the woods or a lazy afternoon at the fishing pond. In her place stood an elegant lady who embodied every beauty ideal, from her flawless porcelain complexion touched with a rosy hint of rouge to her well-shaped bosom lifted high by her stays.
Matthew felt like a doomed dodo standing before a bird of paradise. He had always dressed practically, avoiding the flamboyant colors preferred by other aristocratic men. He couldn’t hide his tall, narrow frame though. His brothers had always quipped that he was a stick masquerading as a sapling. Although he was not as rawboned as he had been as a lad, he possessed an unfashionable lankiness made worse by his refusal to engage in the practice of padding his legs to appear more muscular. It also did not help that he was constantly bonking his head on doorframes or ducking to enter rooms.Jester.His siblings’ old nickname for Matthew burned inside him.
“Alexander said that you have just returned from a voyage to the Colonies.” Lady Charlotte smiled gracefully as she patted a seat next to her.
Matthew’s heart flopped. Somehow, he managed to nod his head and sit down beside her without tripping over his feet. Alexander reclined in an armchair across from them.
“It has been forever since I last saw you.” Lady Charlotte kept talking to Matthew as if the present discourse had not been virtually one-sided.
It had been approximately three years and two months since their last ill-fated encounter. Alexander had persuaded Matthew to attend the legendary salon that Lady Charlotte and her mother held. Although Matthew prized nothing more than a good book, he preferred treatises to novels. In a scientific setting, he could debateall manner of topics, but when it came to discussing satire of modern sensibilities or, even worse, the emotions of the characters, he failed miserably. Due to his position as a university lecturer, the other guests had expected him to say something brilliant at every turn of the conversation. Instead, he had muttered some incoherent sounds and prayed someone else would speak. More than once, it had been Lady Charlotte who’d rescued him by proffering her own opinions.
Desperate not to repeat his prior abysmal performance, Matthew scrambled to construct a full sentence. Unfortunately, he blurted out, “What the devil are you doing here, Lady Charlotte?”
Matthew winced at his clumsy words. Lady Charlotte, however, did not appear taken aback.
“Didn’t Alexander tell you?” She glanced at her brother, whose presence Matthew had damn near forgotten.
