She gave Penny her head once the terrain permitted, and a flood of feelings started to churn like a butter dasher within her. She had to witness how her brother received his old friend. Had to talk with Alex at least once more. She’d been so taken aback by the near apparition in front of her that she hadn’t had the presence of mind to say much of anything.
He hadn’t even recognized her. It was true she probably appeared much different from her eleven-year-old self, especially with her hair so tightly bound. She recalled his final, chilling words the last time they’d spoken.“No matter what you say, your words will never matter.”
Despite the heavy memory, curiosity triumphed over bitterness as she rode, pulling up to the carriage house in record time. The groom still held the reins of the same light-gray horse she’d just seen Alex riding.
“Has our visitor been here long?” she asked John, the main groom.
“Not more ’n three minutes, miss.”
She nodded a thank-you as he handed her down. Then she pressed forward to the house, stopping just once to remove her hat, hand it to the butler hastily, and check her reflection in the vestibule mirror. The doors to the drawing room were closed, but her brother’s cutting words were far too easy to make out. He was using his condescending tone, one he’d perfected in the year and a half since their father and mother had traveled to India for their father to hunt after another lucrative business venture.
“How dare you think you could expect an audience with me!”
Alex’s words were kind but firm. “If you would but listen, I promise—”
“It takes more than a nice jacket to be an accepted member of Society, Jenkins.” Christopher’s tone was so removed, so haughty. “For all I know, that is not even your jacket.”
Alex’s voice dropped low, and Charlotte moved closer to the door so that she could hear his words. “—didn’t come here to talk about my apparel. I’ve worked tirelessly for years to pay off my father’s debt. He may have left for the Continent, Chris, but not with any grievances against his name.”
“It is Mr. Roylance to you, Jenkins. We all know your father left England as a coward, no matter what was supposedly cleared on his name. Now, get out. I will not hear another word.”
Charlotte winced. She strained to listen, but she noted only a labored inhale, which she guessed came from Alex.
At the bottom of the stairs, her youngest brother at only eight, Walter, clung to the banister. She wished for the hundredth time that George and Joseph, her middle two brothers, weren’t at Harrow but were here to play with Walter. With a sigh, she walked over to him and told him to hurry back to the nursery. He did not need to overhear the rage of his eldest brother. The brother whom, until today, she had tried to please.
Charlotte rubbed her palms against the outside of her folded arms, stemming her shudder at Christopher’s behavior. Somewhere in her heart she’d hoped that, after all these years, her brother would forgive Alex’s father, or at least come to dissociate his once best friend with his sullied surname, especially when seeing him in the flesh. But she should have known how unyielding Christopher could be, always trying to emulate Father.
Just last week she had heard him lamenting that a few lenders still denied her family privileges because of their previous association with the Jenkins family. A Roylance didnothingto befriend a Jenkins, even in thought, no matter the circumstance. And her brother, the chief enforcer of all social strictures and head of the household while their parents were away, would stop at nothing to make his expectations clear.
She recalled two years ago when she had asked Christopher and Father about old Mr. Jenkins’s dismissal from debtors’ prison. Whispers had been circulating, and she’d secretly hoped to gain more insight into where Alex might be. Both men had glared at her, her father demanding she hold her tongue. Then he had turned to Christopher and they had entered a half-hour-long diatribe outlining how the resurgence of Jenkins’s scandalous name had reminded all the prominent lenders that the Roylances hadn’t been too far from risky investments themselves. With anger mounting in his voice, he’d declared that they would be under close scrutiny because of everyone’s wariness. It was one reason going to India had seemed wise to Father. No one there would ever link them to the Jenkins family. He’d taken Mother with him and had been sending money home for the last year, but he still had not returned, and with every letter he reiterated how Christopher should be operating in his place.
Alex’s heavy voice sounded closer to the door now. “Before I go, youmustlisten to me. Your lands, the investment opportunity, the lucrative potential—”
“I dismissed you,” her brother shot back. “Might I remind you that you are the last person who ought to talk to me about finances.”
The doors were too tight for Charlotte to see through the gap, but she could just imagine the smug glance her brother would give, probably as he gestured to the newly papered walls and fine tapestries just hung up last month.
Charlotte suddenly detested the tapestries.
Oh, how she wished she could barge in and talk to Alex. But her brother’s livid, tyrannical tendencies caused her to pause with one hand on the doorknob. No one ever stood up against his directives. Not their mother, not the servants, and certainly not herself.
If he even saw her this close, he’d rail into her and forbid her from Alex’s presence. Normally she’d obey his wishes, even his unspoken expectations, cowing to his every request. But today felt different, and her desire to speak to Alex grew within her.
Her best option would be to remove herself and go to the horses again, acting as though she had just returned. At the rate this conversation was going, Alex would be back outside and on his way in a matter of moments.
As fast as she could manage, she stole through the side door and straight toward the stables.
“Back so soon?” John queried, coming out from having mucked the stables. “I haven’t brushed her down yet, miss.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought through all of this. “No—my legs just need some exercise after my ride.” She glanced toward the stables behind him. “And actually, would you mind fetching me some sugar cubes from Cook? After I walk about, I’d like to thank Penny for the way I made her run today.”
“Of course, miss.” John nodded with an eager smile. Charlotte had noticed more than once this particular groom making eyes at one of the kitchen maids. She hoped he’d take a liberal amount of time to procure the requested treat.
She made her way to Penny, who was situated in the stall straight inside the stables, and brought her face close to the horse’s muzzle. “You were such a good girl. Now, when our friend comes out here, you be—”
Slam!
Charlotte jumped, and leaving her words to Penny unfinished, she turned toward the sound as Alex rushed from the back door of the house. He slapped his hat across his leg and muttered something under his breath. Charlotte’s body went rigid as she watched him stalk across the lawn. He glanced up toward the stables and scanned for his horse, which was tied just outside the door. Before Charlotte looked away, she saw his head cock to the side as he spotted her.
