Luella—sharp, venomous viper of theton—had been besotted. The way she had openly expressed her devotion to Lord Berridge and her plans for their marriage was difficult to read, given Charlotte knew those hopes had been dashed.
The second letter was heart-wrenching. It was full of confusion—why had he not responded to her previous letter? Why had he not come to see her father, as he promised he would?
Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to read the third letter. The whole situation made her sick. How could men be so awful? And to share it with his friends? To finally visit Luella’s father, not to propose, but to blackmail?
“I have no words. This is disgraceful.”
John shifted away, arms crossed. “Charlotte, whatever your feelings for that woman, you cannot use those letters against her.”
Pardon?She also shifted, putting enough distance between them that she could pin him down with a Wildeforde glare. “How could you think I would? I may not like her. In fact, to say that I loathe her wouldn’t be an overstatement. But I would never use a woman’s misstep against her.”
He frowned. “So you won’t share them? Or reveal their contents?”
Charlotte counted to five in her head before answering. “It is an insult that you think I would. Especially given what we did last night. I am certainly not a hypocrite. And while I’d love to best that woman once and for all, if I’m going to win, I want to win fairly.”
John removed his glasses and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “So do you plan on returning them to her?”
“Me?God, no. Can you imagine how she’d react if she knew her greatest rival had seen these? She’d never feel safe again. I may hold a grudge, but I’m not cruel. You do it. Tell her you came across them somewhere. That way, she has the security of knowing they’re out of that bastard’s hands and never needs to know that I saw them.”
John looked at her, head cocked. “You risked everything tonight for those letters. Selling them to help your brother never crossed your mind?”
She could understand his confusion. She’d told him that there was nothing she wouldn’t do to help William. What she’d meant was there was nothing she wouldn’t sacrifice, but she certainly would not cause such harm. Not even to Luella. “I can’t.”
The look he gave her in response was heavy with thought. He tapped his fingertips on his lips before finally speaking. “You are something I do not understand.”
***
He was in love with Charlotte.
He didn’t know when it had happened or if she felt the same. All he knew was that she was the kindest, most generous, most loyal and loving person he knew. She was a sunbeam, so pure and warm and good that it could break through the darkest cloud.
For her, he would change the course of his existence. He would stay in England rather than returning to his quiet shack in the wilderness, becausewithher, all the things he feared and loathed about society seemed like lesser burdens. With her by his side, he could be the lord he must become. Together, they could ensure their estates, their people, thrived.
The sky had taken on a green hue a scant hour ago. With the promise of a lightning storm on the horizon, tonight was the perfect time to propose. He just had to settle other matters first, which was why he was now standing in Lady Luella’s drawing room, staring out the window and watching the clouds roll in. Marrying her was no longer an option. Even if he and Charlotte lost every cent they had at the tables tonight, he would not marry another.
Besides, Luella deserved better than to be left hanging on a string, waiting to be needed or not. After Berridge’s treatment of her, she deserved to find someone who would treat her well, who would love her in a way that John never would.
“Lord Harrow.” John turned to see Luella in the doorway. Her face was pinched, her lips thinned, and her eyes narrowed. She remained motionless as he bowed.
“You’re here to cry off,” she said, stalking across the room and taking a seat on the chaise longue. She settled her skirts into perfect waves. John had seen Charlotte do the same thing. It was a delaying tactic, a moment to compose herself without revealing what she was thinking. The two women shared more commonalities than either would care to admit.
He kept his place by the window, hesitant to be within arm’s reach of her for the conversation that had to follow. “I can’t, in good conscience, marry you,” he said.
She pinned him down with her stare. “I can’t see how, in good conscience, youcouldn’tmarry me. There is a contract. You have a responsibility. A true gentleman keeps his commitments.”
The barb cut deep, and he worked to remind himself that this was not his commitment. Walter had made the bloody pact, and he’d failed to keep it the way that he’d failed all his other duties.
“Lady Luella, surely you would prefer to marry a man whowantsto marry you.”
“Lord Harrow, as my father so eloquently put it, I am spoiled goods, a fact that is not a secret amongst the men of London. No man of wealth and good breeding wants to marry me. At least, none did until Walter. He could see past my…indiscretion. He truly loved…”She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes.
Despite the way she was trying to corner him, he felt sympathy for her. She’d loved his brother, however little Walter deserved it, and she would never have the life with him that she’d planned. “My condolences for your loss,” John murmured.
“You are nothing compared to him,” she spat. “Nothing.”
The words echoed the insults his parents had thrown at him his entire childhood. They hurt less now, though. His brother might have been charming, but he had not been perfect. He had not even been good. Whether the rest of society saw that was no longer relevant.
“I am trying my best to do right by everyone.”
