“I—well.” I fiddled through my satchel for anything that might aid my fumbling tongue.
“That list,” muttered Liza. “As though one little thing would change your mind. The wedding is in five days. Ready or not, Ros, you are marrying Marlow.”
Charlie frowned and looked out his window with the same pained look he’d had when I first met him.
“Actually, I am not certain,” I said.
The carriage hit a bump in the road, and Liza’s embroidery went flying. Her hands hung empty in the air, and she stared at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“What?” Her voice climbed an octave. “You are not seriously considering crying off.”
“I hardly know him, Liza. It would not be unreasonable.”
Charlie straightened in his seat.
Liza’s face had gone pale. “Your family would bemortified. To cry off at all is embarrassing. Worse, it is harmful to your prospects.” She shook her head as though she could not comprehend the idea. “You are engaged to adukewho wants to marry you and connect your family to his title. You’d have to be mad to abandon him.”
“I disagree,” Charlie said.
My gaze flew to his face to measure his sincerity.
Charlie looked at me,reallylooked at me for the first time all day, and said, “There is more to life than status.”
My heart readily agreed and pounded wildly in my chest. But status meant everything to my family. And everything Liza had said was true. Agreeing with Charlie would be the greatest risk I’d ever taken.
A risk I had not planned for.
I nodded. “I am starting to see that too.”
His serious expression turned smug. Only this time it didn’t seem so flippant. His gaze was careful, cautious, like he did not want to give himself away. But why? What was he thinking? We needed a moment alone to speak before I made any rash decisions. I clasped my hands and rubbed my fingers together.
What if we spoke, and hedidfeel the same? I looked up at him.
“Good morning,” Charlie mouthed through a smile.
I bit my lip. “Good morning,” I mouthed back.
Liza, oblivious, recovered her embroidery and pulled her needle through the fabric. “There is certainly not more to life when you have a duke.”
Charlie raised a brow and rolled his eyes, and I laughed. He shook out his paper and leaned back.
A few more hours, and we’d be home. We would speak soon.
We drove through Dover, then stopped to let our horses rest. As we journeyed closer to home, I busied myself with sketching Teague House in a notebook. My legs bounced and Charlie’s crossed and uncrossed, and all the while, we exchanged stolen glances beneath Liza’s notice.
We stopped a final time to rest the horses, and I was desperate to move. We’d just discovered a dirt footpath when our driver called Charlie back.
“My legs are so stiff,” Liza whined, pulling me along for a walk before the final ride home.
I looked over my shoulder and found Charlie facing the driver, who spoke wildly with his hands. I wondered if something had broken on the carriage, but when we returned, both men were ready to receive us.
We’d driven for another half hour or more, when suddenly the driver shouted, and our carriage jerked to a stop.
Charlie peered out the window, his expression growing tight.
“What is wrong?” I asked, exchanging a worried glance with Liza.
Angry voices sounded from behind the carriage, and a chill ran down my spine. Something was wrong.
