The king raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought it was your steam engines that were keeping you from your duties.”
“Your Majesty?”
“I had my men investigate you after your brother’s death, Lord Harrow. I know about your career in trade and your engines. They are not an excuse to shirk your duties to the crown, regardless of how impressive your achievements have been.”
The king was right. He had accepted the responsibilities of the title. The Lords came with it. “I’ll be sure to at-tend the next session.”
“B-b-brilliant,” Rhinehurst said. “Another id-d-diot in parliament.”
Chapter 22
Charlotte was well into a quadrille when she spotted John stalking across the room toward the exit. Something was wrong. His expression was grim and his hands were fisted by his side.
“Lady Charlotte?”
She returned her attention to her dance partner, but as they turned, her gaze once more sought John. He acknowledged no one as he passed them, causing eyebrows to rise in his wake.
She dipped beneath the arms of another couple, almost stumbling over their feet due to her lack of attention.
“Is something the matter?” her partner asked, displeased and following the direction of her gaze with an annoyed look.
“My lord, forgive me,” she said with an apologetic wince. “I must go.” It was inexcusable to leave one’s partner in the middle of the dance floor. This would be gossip on everyone’s lips all evening and a Wildeforde did not court gossip. But John was clearly upset, and supporting him was a higher priority than perfect behavior.
She hurried after him, weaving in and out around the guests. She ignored the footman in the hallway who offered to fetch her coat and gloves and dashed out into the night. The coolness of the night air was a welcome change from the stuffy heat of the ballroom. John was retreating down the drive.
“John!” she called as she ran across the gravel. “John!”
He turned around. She could barely see him in the dark, but at least he was waiting for her.
“What is it?” she asked as she reached him, out of breath.
“I can’t do this,” he said.
“Can’t do what?”
He tugged at the ends of his hair, ruining his perfectly smoothed coiffure. “I can’t be this person who you need. I do not belong here, Charlotte. I am not one of you.”
It didn’t make any sense. He’d been having a good time, hadn’t he? He’d been deep in conversation with Hen and Josie as they danced. Half the party was quite taken with him. “But you were doing so well. You were fitting in perfectly.”
“I wasnot. I danced because you wanted me to dance, and I made inane conversation because to not do so would be rude. But I don’t fit in here.”
She didn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. For goodness’ sake, he’d spent the past few days reassuring her that he would be happy living this life. “What happened? Something must have set off this…realization of yours given you were perfectly fine two hours ago.”
John took off his glasses and rubbed his hands over his face. “I ran into Dickey Trembly, Lord Rhinehurst. The encounter was…unpleasant. It was an hour of snide comments and outright mockery.”
Drat.“Dickeyisunpleasant. He’s a small-minded, cruel, and petty little man. Even his title isn’t enough to see him invited into many homes. I’d pay no attention to what he says.”
John shook his head, stepping backward to put more distance between him and Charlotte. “Dickey only says out loud what other people are thinking. That I’m a stuttering idiot who’s a poor replacement for my perfect brother.” His voice cracked at the mention of Walter.
Charlotte shook her head, taking a step toward him to put a hand on his arm. It killed her to see him in so much anguish. “No, that’s not true. Most people are kind and generous and they care not for any trivial hiccups you make speaking. I doubt people even notice.”
Once again, he moved away from her touch. “You do not know what you’re talking about.” It was the first time she had ever heard him yell, and she could feel the blood drain from her face. “You are a young, naïve little girl who has experienced nothing of the world. You do not know what evil humans are truly capable of.”
It was her turn to step back as his words barreled into her. So he truly did think that she was some unworldly, unintelligent creature who knew nothing. It had been what she’d feared, but over the past week she’d put that fear aside.
She couldn’t help the tears that sprang to her eyes or the way her lip quivered, or how a giant pit formed in her gut. “I may not have your experience in the world,” she managed to say despite the tightening of her throat. “But to suggest that I don’t understand people when I fill my life with them is supremely arrogant. I may be younger than you. I may not have traveled or started a business, but at least I don’t hide away. I fill my week with more people than you speak to in a year, so your implication that I know nothing of mankind is ludicrous. I know more than you ever will, and as somebody who truly understands people, I can tell you that your presumptions are false. Your conclusions are wrong. It isyouwho knows nothing, Lord Harrow.”
His expression flattened. It was as though he put up shutters to keep the storm of her words out. He took another two steps backward and bowed. “Very well then, my lady. I bid you good night.”
