Christopher will be so pleased with you.
Think of how thrilled Mother will be. She’ll finally dote on you.
All your discord with Christopher will vanish.
When father eventually returns from India, he’ll have something to be proud of.
Like arrows multiplying in a quiver against their target, more reasons for answering yes flooded her mind. From her periphery, wavy blond curls leaned toward her.
She’d never see Alex again. That realization had torn her apart these last few days, but it was time she accepted the reality. She’d lost her freedom and, with it, her heart. There couldn’t be another way. She had to move on.
“Yes, I will have you.” She sighed, hoping he’d take the way the words choked in her throat as breathless excitement.
“Yes?” Harris’s reply came out close to an ecstatic whoop, but then he cleared his throat. “I... am ever so honored,” he said in a more subdued tone. “With your brother as your guardian while your father is away, is it best to talk with him?”
Charlotte swallowed. She searched her heart, longing for some confirmation of the rightness of her decision, but no peace came. Shouldn’t she at least feel relieved? “You haven’t already asked him for his blessing?”
“Why no. I wanted to speak with you first.”
So Harris hadn’t been coerced by Christopher. That meant he really did care for her, that he wasn’t just falling in line with Christopher’s plan too. Charlotte closed her eyes, waiting for more excitement, more peace to enter her mind. She drew a long breath. Nothing. Her nerves still wrestled within her.
“I appreciate that,” she said after a silent pause between them.
“I see the folly of my ways.” Harris raked a hand through his hair. “Surely your brother will not have a spare moment for an audience with me at this time.” He was speaking quickly, his agitated hands a sign of his nervousness. “I’ll try to speak to him tonight. Then tomorrow at the ball, we could announce it.”
“Of course,” Charlotte managed. Every word from her mouth felt more and more strangled. The sun shone around them, and the sky was a perfect blue, but Charlotte felt like a thundercloud had rolled over her. “Would you mind if we turn around?” She tried to smile. “With so much on my mind, I suddenly wish for a bit of time in my room to reflect in quiet.”
Harris’s mouth spread into a wide smile. “Of course.” He pulled on his horse’s reins, and they increased their pace as the groom followed far behind them. As they rode, he continued to send pleased glances her way.
With each one her stomach twisted, her throat tensed, and her heart shrank.
Chapter 29
Never had Alex felt sofoolish in his life. Not only was he walking straight into enemy territory, but he was doing it in a tunic and hose, bedecked in a harlequin pattern, complete with a mask on his face and a lute under each arm.
With an entirely new appreciation for modern fashion, he marveled that Charlotte had given the eccentric Mrs. Dunsdale such free rein for the musicians’ livery. If this harebrained scheme worked, he’d need to thank the odd duck of a seamstress the next time they spoke.
Posing as a musician proved to be the perfect plan, for he and the others arrived early, which provided time for him to get his bearings and prepare for the rest of the evening.
As he helped the musicians set up their instruments and chairs, he watched in awe when Charlotte entered, a smile on her face, ready to give last-minute instructions. That smile was only the beginning of her grandeur, though, and Alex’s heart beat faster than ever.
Her dazzling auburn hair had been parted down the middle and swooped back into a full, intricate bun just above the nape of her neck. White roses adorned her hair, and blue feathers clustered to the side of the roses. She hadn’t yet donned her mask, and her eyes glimmered brighter than the oil-lamp sconces on the walls. Oh, how he longed for those eyes to gaze into his own. He craved connecting with her, and it wasn’t just because she was beautiful. It was so much more than that. When he was with her, he felt complete. Happy. Full of purpose.
He watched her glance across the room, and her shoulders drooped. Alex followed her gaze to Christopher, who was speaking with a gentleman. Alex wondered if anyone else in that room knew her well enough to notice the slight change in her posture. Seeing her try to mask her sadness stirred his feelings until they nearly exploded. He wanted to serve her and love her, and watching her now, without her even knowing he was near, confirmed it fully. He wanted to give her a chance to be all she could be, not some marionette under Christopher’s hand. Alex had made the right decision to be here, no matter how risky this plan might prove to be.
Her eyes came back to the maestro, and a smile—one Alex surmised was forced—pushed its way across her beautiful lips. They spoke a little more, and she placed one hand on her hip, bringing his attention to her waist, cinched in tight and accentuating her splendid figure. His desire to speak to her, to encircle her small form in his arms, to catch her eye, nearly made him speak out.
“Have I addressed all your concerns?” he heard Charlotte ask the maestro.
“Yes, miss,” the maestro answered.
With a good-natured nod, she walked away. Lands, even in the simplest things, she was breathtaking.
Once he finished helping the musicians, he set off to prepare his plan. He knew exactly where to go. A memory from years ago surfaced as he walked: He’d been stung by a swarm of bees in the Otterburn forest, and Chris had taken him to the cook so she could make a salve for his burning skin. Despite how many of their good times together Chris had forgotten, Alex’s friendhadcared once, long ago.
Alex shook his head—if tonight worked, they’d never reconcile their friendship. He’d never be seen as an equal, only an enemy. But marrying Charlotte would be worth any disdain.
As he snuck through the back corridor that led behind the ballroom toward the kitchen, he heard voices coming from the study across the corridor. He pulled into a small alcove in the passageway, terrified that whoever was inside would open the door and question why a musician with a large bundle scurried nearby. His knowledge of the castle’s less-used corridors might prove to be his demise.
