“I probably shouldnae.”
Fearing her voice would break if she spoke too quickly, she took a moment to gather her composure. “Please don’t end our relationship like this. At least help me finish what we started.”
“Very well. If that is what ye wish.”
The resignation with which he spoke broke her already fragile heart. Pressing her lips together to stop her tears from falling, Charlotte flung her cloak over her shoulders, secured it with a bow, and pulled the hood up over her head. “Meet me at our designated spot. Four o’clock.”
“Allow me to see ye home.”
“There’s really no need. If you could just—”
“Charlotte. I’m nae letting ye out of my sight until I’m sure ye’re safely inside Russell House. Is that clear?”
His curt remark instilled both joy and misery in her bones. He cared, more than he was willing to admit, she’d wager. But what good did it do when he was determined to fight it – to walk away from her without a backward glance?
She tamped down the panic she felt at the thought of them parting ways soon. For now, there was still tomorrow, and she was determined to savor each second the day allowed her to spend in his company.
14
After last night, there was no longer any doubt in Blayne’s mind. He had to cut ties with Charlotte before this powerful pull between them led her into additional danger. It was the right thing to do. Especially since he could promise no future.
Sitting across from her in the hackney as they headed over to P. Agerson Publishing on Charring Cross Road in Whitehall, Blayne studied the woman he’d fallen hopelessly in love with. She was wearing a pretty pink dress today with a short sleeved shamrock green spencer. It had intricate pleats down the front and on the sleeves. To finish off the ensemble, she had on a straw bonnet, tied beneath her chin with a voluminous white ribbon.
He would never tell her how he felt. To do so would only cause her additional pain when he finally pushed her away for good. At least if she didn’t believe his feelings matched hers, it might be easier for her to walk away without looking back.
Clenching his jaw, he struggled to calm his breaths and steady his thundering heart. Never in his life had he wanted something as badly as he wanted her. It crushed him to keep all that bottled up inside, to not fall on his knees and pledge himself to her forever.
Giving his attention to the window, he forced himself to do what he always tried to avoid, which was to think back on the terrible crime he’d committed. His mother’s wide eyes filled with fear and his father’s large hands at her throat. His own useless attempt to pull his father away. The candelabra. An innate need to stop what was happening.
“What have ye done, lad?” His uncle’s outrage filled the bedchamber. Blood stained the floor. “Christ have mercy, I think he’s dead.”
Wincing with pure disgust, Blayne blocked out the rest once more. It hadn’t just been the murder charges he’d tried to escape, it had also been his uncle. The control that man would have had over Blayne after what he’d witnessed would have been intolerable.
“Mr. MacNeil?” Charlotte’s voice was as blunt as it had been when she’d greeted him earlier. “We’ve arrived. Perhaps you can step down and help me alight?”
Bristling, he did as she asked without complaint. He knew she was punishing him out of pain and anger – that what she most likely needed was a good fight. Maybe later, when they were back in the carriage again with only Daisy to witness what would without doubt be an ugly display, he’d allow it. But for now, he had to make sure they both behaved with decorum. Especially if they were to accomplish what they’d come for.
Without saying a word, he climbed from the hackney and turned to offer his hand. She took it, then slowly met his gaze. Blayne’s heart stumbled. Gone was the carefully schooled indifference she’d put on display thus far. In its place was the sort of turbulent anguish he wished he could turn away from. Her eyes glistened and for a brief moment Blayne feared she might cry, because he had no idea how he would deal with that.
But then, as if donning a thick piece of armor, she set her jaw and hardened her features, banking every emotion she’d just revealed.
“Thank you,” she said as she stepped down onto the pavement.
Unable to resist, Blayne tightened his hold on her fingers before he released them. With emptiness and regret swooping in to replace the warmth of her touch, he turned away so he could offer assistance to Daisy as well.
They entered the building, which was far more spacious and impressive than the one occupied by Avery Carlisle. The same clerk Blayne had met before sat behind a desk near the front of the room. He peered at them from behind the spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. His gaze zeroed in on Blayne. “I see you’ve returned.”
“This time with the author I mentioned.”
“Indeed.” The clerk did not look or sound the least bit convinced.
Charlotte stepped forward. “If I may, I would like to speak with Mr. Agerson. It’s in regard to the latest Cunningham novel.”
“I see.”
“If ye’ll recall,” Blayne said, “I mentioned it being published by an imposter.”
“Hmm…” The clerk tilted his head and seemed to study Charlotte for a moment. “Perhaps if you make an appointment Mr. Finley can accommodate you within a reasonable time frame.”
