“He would also make demands on my time and besides, you know my position. I would want passion and with Albert there’s never been one single spark. I’m sorry, Avery, but it’s not going to happen.”
“No matter,” Avery said, “but I could not resist asking.”
Appreciating her friend’s honesty, Charlotte left her office and stepped into the publisher’s antechamber where Albert sat behind a wide reception desk. He immediately stood, his cheeks flushing a bright shade of pink the moment he saw her.
Charlotte smiled politely and with the hope of not adding any encouragement. “Mr. Carlisle.”
“Miss Russell,” he replied, and rushed toward her. “I trust your meeting with Avery went well.”
“Oh yes. Thank you.”
“Please. Allow me to walk you to your carriage.”
Unwilling to let him think she might be remotely interested, Charlotte shook her head. “There’s really no need.”
“Oh, but I insist.” He reached for her folio.
Charlotte sidestepped him. “You’re ever so kind but I do think you ought to stay here in case other clients show up.”
“Right. Um. Will you be back again soon?”
“In a month or so. I shall see you then.” She turned away and moved toward the door leading out to the foyer.
“Indeed you shall,” Albert called after her. “Without fail.”
Charlotte winced in response to his eager tone as she pushed through the doors and made her escape. Turning right, she continued out into the street and scanned it for the hackney she’d hired in order to come here. She’d asked the coachman to wait, insisting she wouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes at most. More like half an hour or more. Apparently the coachman had thought this too long and had driven off.
Muttering a curse, Charlotte commenced walking. Whitechapel Road wasn’t far. She’d find another hackney there, no problem. With one hand on the pistol she carried in her skirt pocket whenever she went out, she set off. But when she turned left several minutes later, someone caught her from behind, his firm hand snaking around her person to trap her in place. The sharp metal edge of a blade pressed into her throat.
“Scream, an’ it’ll be the last sound you make,” a gruff voice said.
Charlotte curled her fingers around her pistol’s grip. If only she could get some leeway – spin around – threaten the villain in return. Unfortunately, her current position allowed for no such thing. “All right.”
“Did I say you could speak?” The blade pressed deeper. One hand latched onto her reticule “I’ll just take this an’ be on my way.”
Charlotte closed her eyes and prayed. She’d never felt more helpless. And she hated it. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t ask one of her parents’ footmen to join her on her excursions. Their loyalty lay with her parents so they could not be trusted with Charlotte’s secret while Daisy, the maid who’d been meant to accompany Charlotte, had been sent on an errand by Charlotte’s mother at the last minute, leaving Charlotte with no other option than to set off alone if she was to keep her appointment.
Swallowing, Charlotte tried to steady her breathing – to not panic while the thief grabbed her reticule. It contained more money than usual – three months’ worth of royalties in the amount of two hundred and eighty pounds.
Harsh laughter filled her ears. “I like the weight of this. Now stay still and count to twenty.”
Charlotte started to do as she was told, but the moment the blade left her throat, she drew her pistol from within the folds of her skirt and whipped around, only to learn that the thief had waited for just the right moment to flee. A group of children were now approaching the spot where she stood, blocking her line of fire as the thief raced away behind them. Charlotte’s hand shook in response to the shocking encounter. She lowered her arm and took a tremulous breath.
This really wouldn’t do. If she was to keep on coming here, she would have to ensure her own safety.
Intent on solving the problem as soon as possible, Charlotte set off the following morning after breakfast, this time with Daisy in tow. She was convinced she’d achieve her goal without much hardship. All it would take was a day – one week at most.
But after spending the next month visiting various tea-shops, scouring the parks, and taking luncheon at some of the more reputable inns, she was forced to acknowledge that finding the sort of man who could blend in on the streets of Mayfair and scare the devil out of a villain was no simple task.
Now, with her next meeting at Carlisle & Co. approaching fast, she decided to make one last desperate attempt at engaging the capable sort she required.
“Are you sure we ought to risk coming to this part of Town, miss?” Daisy’s voice conveyed a healthy dose of nervousness as she glanced out the window of the hackney they’d hired a short while earlier. “Doesn’t it contradict what you’re trying to achieve?”
It did, but after failing to find a suitable candidate for the position elsewhere, Charlotte had decided to try another option –The Black Swan tavern. An acquaintance of hers, Regina Sterling, the Duchess of Windham, had met her husband there, and while the duke was not considered the least bit respectable, he was precisely the sort of man Charlotte needed – one capable of instilling fear in any thug who threatened her safety.
“I realize it’s not ideal, Daisy, but I cannot walk into Gentleman Jackson’s and offer employment to one of its patrons.” Only upper-class gentlemen and peers frequented the high-end boxing establishment, and although Charlotte was certain several would be capable of warding off a thief, she could not trust them not to tell her family of her exploits.
What Charlotte needed was an individual who answered solely to her – a man who needed the coin she offered and knew he wouldn’t receive it if he betrayed her.
