From down below, Charlotte heard the door creak open again, signifying Christopher’s return. She walked out of George’s room to the banister but remained hidden while still having a perfect view of Christopher. He pulled the butler close by his lapel, and through the eerie silence of the corridor, she heard Christopher say, “No one else can know. I will make the doctor promise his secrecy, and I will assure Jenkins knows better than to talk. For all intents and purposes, George was thrown from a horse.”
Charlotte’s insides roiled at such deceit, but with the house full of guests and so many servants, it was best no one knew of an illegal duel and the terrible family dramatics that had transpired. Christopher understood full well the charges that could be pressed against him if the truth were known.
The butler walked away, and from the opposite set of stairs, Harris Ainscough appeared, his jacket removed, his clothes and shoes on in such a way that it seemed hastily done, obviously without a valet.
“Christopher?” he said. “I heard some commotion. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Is everything all right?”
From Charlotte’s vantage, she could almost see Christopher’s eyes, and she silently padded down two steps to get a clearer view and hear the men.
“Oh no. I am not well. George—” Christopher sucked in a breath. “He’s been thrown from a horse and is very badly injured.”
“He was out riding? At this time of night?” Harris’s head of disheveled hair tilted to the side.
What kinds of lies would Christopher fabricate now to cover himself? Charlotte’s guilt at all that had happened tightened her stomach. She’d caused this by letting Alex back into her life. If she hadn’t agreed to leave to the vicar’s, it wouldn’t have come to this. She loved him, but it had been a rash, emotional decision with terrible consequences.
“Oh, um, yes, a very bad injury,” Christopher hedged. “Listen, I need to ask a favor. Charlotte is with George at this very minute, and the doctor is on his way. I know this kind of injury to our family will leave my sister and my mother indisposed for days. In truth, it would be best if all guests could leave as early as possible tomorrow. Could you escort Lady Eloise and her family back to London?”
“But Charlotte and I—we were to announce our engagement.”
“I am afraid it will have to wait, Ainscough. She is not well.”
Charlotte’s breath lodged in her throat. Had Christopher just considered her feelings? Or was he using her to accomplish his own purposes as usual?
No doubt he wished to avoid as much scandal as he could, but part of her thought it was to protect her. To help her. It felt like the first time he’d actually thought about what she needed.
Harris studied Christopher for a long moment but finally dipped his head in concession. “I will plan to leave as soon as we can and await to hear from Charlotte.”
“Thank you,” Christopher said, clasping the man on his shoulder. Then he turned toward the second floor as a groan emanated from within George’s room. The front door opened once again, and the doctor took the stairs by twos until he flanked Christopher in the passageway to the family rooms.
“This way,” Christopher said to the doctor, and Charlotte pressed against the wall to get out of their way quickly. She wanted to rush after them but heard a softer pair of feet behind her, and she turned.
“What is going on?” Walter’s wide eyes shone white in the lamp-lit corridor. “There’s so much noise and movement. My nurse said I couldn’t watch the ball past the first dance. Then I had to take supper in my room. Then I was whisked off to bed, only to wake up to a bunch of clatter and realize I’d missed the party altogether.”
Charlotte swallowed and crouched down. “Oh, Walter.” She sighed, not knowing what to say as she patted his matted hair. She prayed silently for wisdom and strength. “It’s hard to be the youngest, isn’t it?”
He nodded emphatically.
“George was injured badly tonight at the end of the ball. His shoulder will be in a bandage for quite some time. We have been fretting over him, but I think all will be well in a few days.”
“George?” Walter’s high-pitched voice squeezed tight. “But he is my favorite. He promised me we’d spend all of tomorrow in the tree house since I had to miss the ball.”
“Oh.” Charlotte threw her arm around her brother and pulled him in tight. “I could come instead, when I’m not checking on George.”
Walter eyed her. “I will think about it. Usually there’s no girls allowed.”
Charlotte was glad for this boy’s words; right now they kept back her tears.
“Can I go see George?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t think they’ll let me in either. Perhaps tomorrow we can both go. Now, you really ought to get back into bed. I don’t think it will be too loud from here on out.” Despite her reassurances, another groan echoed through the passageway. Would George survive? She never should have been so rash. She tried to smile for Walter. “In the nursery I don’t think you’ll be able to hear it.”
“Oh, all right.” Walter shrugged, rubbing one of his eyes and yawning. Charlotte kissed him on the cheek and then ushered him down the stairs.
She turned toward George’s room, ready to barge in or pace the corridor until she gained entrance. She had to do something. She had to help somehow. As she analyzed her choices, Alex stepped out from the room.
“I suspect they won’t let you in until they’ve finished stitching the wound.” Another agonizing wail rent the air, and Charlotte winced. “Chris warned me to get out and act as though I’d never been here.”
Of course it would be best for him to leave immediately so fewer servants saw him and he wasn’t there if the magistrate came asking questions.
