“Being your type of sensible would have ended with me married to a self-confessed murderer,” Charlotte pointed out. “I much prefer my kind of intelligence.”
“If you leave with Dr. Talbot, you are cut off from all funds,” her father yelled with such ferocity that his body jerked. His wig plopped unceremoniously to the ground.
“That is fine.” Charlotte smiled. “Dr. Talbot is well off. We are to buy a house together. And I do possess my own funds. I invested my inheritance from Great-Aunt Abigail in the Black Sheep coffeehouse. I think she would be immensely pleased. Grandmother too. They definitely would be delighted that I am turning a nice enough profit that I could purchase my own cottage in the country.”
“You cannot leave. It isn’t proper. None of this is proper!” Her mother jammed her fists against her hips, a position that she generally abhorred since it ruined silhouettes and, in her opinion, made women appear like fishwives.
“I know it isn’t proper,” Charlotte grinned. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
Before her parents could reply, Charlotte whirled from the room and strolled from the house that had never been a home. Her father bellowed her name, but Charlotte didn’t even turn around as she stepped outside. Breathing in the warm, sunny air, she headed straight for the well-sprung coach that Mr. Stewart had gifted Matthew and her as an engagement gift.
Matthew already had the door open before Charlotte reachedthe carriage. His gray gaze instantly took stock of her face. He’d offered to join her, but he’d understood that she wanted to defy her parents alone.
“Everything went well?” Matthew asked as he moved to allow her to enter.
“From my perspective, it proceeded perfectly. I am disinherited as we suspected, which I honestly find extremely freeing. All obligations are gone.” Charlotte plopped down next to Matthew and arranged her royal robes.
Matthew fiddled with the soft fabric. “Isn’t this costume a trifle hot for today?”
“It is,” Charlotte admitted. “But I am enjoying feeling like a queen.”
Matthew searched through the material until his fingers met hers. Charlotte’s heart gave a now-familiar kick as he pressed their palms together. With his free hand, Matthew pulled the top of her mantle loose from the fastening—not enough to remove it, but the perfect amount to reveal her clavicle. He pressed his lips at the V above her shoulder, the gesture at once softly sweet and wildly passionate.
“You do not need a costume to be a queen, Charlotte,” Matthew told her gravely. “You always were one, and you always will be.”
“I do feel like I’ve come into my power today,” Charlotte said as she ran her fingers against the soft velvet. When she returned her gaze to Matthew, she gave her sauciest wink. “But don’t fret. I plan on disrobing very, very soon.”
Matthew stilled. “Is that so?”
“It is so dreadfully warm in the carriage,” Charlotte teased as she reached for Matthew’s cravat and loosened it. “The activities that I have planned on our way north will only make us hotter, I am afraid.”
“Hotter?” Matthew raised a teasing eyebrow as he traced his finger along her collarbone.
“Blazing,” Charlotte whispered sotto voce as she removed his neckerchief and tossed it to the floor.
“Mmm,” Matthew murmured as he bent to kiss the hollow at the base of her neck. “I am going to enjoy journeying with you.”
“I promise to make the trip to Gretna Green and back exciting,” Charlotte said as she began to undo his waistcoat. But she had only managed to slip one button from its hole when Matthew pulled back, his face unexpectedly somber.
“I did not just mean the sojourn north,” Matthew said. “I was speaking in a broader sense. We shall make our life together an adventure, Charlotte—whether we are sailing to the New World on one of Tavish’s vessels or whether we are tucked up in our home on a winter’s night and reading before the fire.”
Charlotte pressed a kiss against his cheek. “I like both versions of us. We shall live by no one’s expectations except our own. Most of all, we will define our own happiness.”
“A fine and noble goal,” Matthew agreed. “You have already shown my heart how to accept joy that I did not know it could hold.”
Charlotte beamed at the man who had helped her discover her own strength. “And you, Matthew, have shown me how to be brave enough to approach the world with kindness and to defend the people and the creatures whom society has not just forgotten but actively discarded.”
“You humble and embolden me, Charlotte.” Matthew straightened and turned so that they faced each other. He framed her face with his warm, elegant hands—a surgeon’s hands, an adventurer’s hands, and a lover’s hands. They were strong, capable ones, just like the man himself.
“You do the same to me,” she replied hoarsely as she too held his dear face in her palms.
“To mutual happiness and support and, most of all, love,” Matthew whispered, once more echoing the words she had uttered in her family’s garden as she’d tried to convince him that he could give her the future they both desired.
“To mutual happiness and support and, most of all, love,” Charlotte repeated, those words becoming an unbreakable vow between them.
Epilogue
Her fingers interlaced with Matthew’s, Charlotte used her own key to open the door to the Black Sheep with her other hand. For the first time, she’d donned nothing to obscure her identity. Her part ownership in the coffeehouse was scandalizing polite society (and many outside its “hallowed” circles as well), but Charlotte and Matthew had decided that they did not give a fig.
