“Perhaps,” Charlotte agreed, “as long as each party’s financial situation is similar. But I doubt an aristocrat’s daughter will ever marry a chimney sweep, Mr. Hallibrand.”
“Be that as it may, Mr. MacNeil is hardly a chimney sweep. Is he?” A smirk pulled at Mr. Hallibrand’s lips. “I wonder. Do you know Mr. Cooper was raised in the slums of New York? His father was an Irish factory worker, his mother a Polish cleaning woman at a Manhattan hospital. The pair barely had enough funds to afford a small room to let, never mind enough to give their son an education. Which does make his accomplishments admirable, as long as one turns a blind eye to the questionable men who helped him get where he is today.”
“How do you know all of this?” Charlotte asked. She couldn’t believe this stranger was able to provide such information when her own father had failed to uncover it. Perhaps he’d just been too blinded by Mr. Cooper’s wealth to consider his background. Or maybe he hadn’t cared, which would make his firm dismissal of Blayne incredibly hypocritical.
“I’m a journalist, Miss Russell. I follow the news with the same dedication a gambler follows the races.”
Speaking of journalism…
“I hope you don’t mean to reveal my presence here this evening, Mr. Hallibrand.”
“Forgive me, Miss Russell, but that is like asking a hungry dog to ignore a fresh morsel of roast beef.”
A chill rushed through Charlotte’s veins. “Please. You can’t do this to us. You—”
“It’s all right,” Blayne said as his arm came around her midsection. He pulled her firmly against him and kissed the top of her head. “It’s nae the announcement we’d hoped for, but if Mr. Hallibrand is determined…well then, we cannae stand in his way.”
“What are you—” Charlotte began, only to be interrupted as Hallibrand asked, “What announcement would that be, Mr. MacNeil?”
“Being the clever journalist ye are, I’m surprised ye’ve nae figured it out,” Blayne said. “Ye see, the real reason Mr. Cooper cannae marry Miss Russell, is because she promised herself to me before his arrival.”
15
The tension in Charlotte’s shoulders could not be ignored. Even though it was her fault he now had no choice but to do the honorable thing, she clearly wasn’t pleased with how the situation had come about. Neither was he, but he was man enough to accept what was done and to face the repercussions.
Christ have mercy.
“So you never had an agreement with Mr. Cooper?” Mr. Hallibrand asked Charlotte with wide-eyed dismay. “In spite of your father’s insistence to the contrary?”
Blayne squeezed her gently until she shook her head. “No.”
“Incredible.” Mr. Hallibrand downed the rest of his brandy and set the glass aside. “This is precisely the sort of thing that needs to end, these attempts at forced unions that—”
“Very good,” Blayne cut in. “Now if ye dinnae mind, I’d like some time alone with my fiancée. If there’s anything else, ye’re welcome to drop by again tomorrow.”
“Yes. Of course. I’ll see myself out.”
“Oh, and Mr. Hallibrand?” Blayne added, halting the man in mid-stride. “I’d like to read yer story before it goes to print.”
“That’s not how this works, I’m afraid,” Mr. Hallibrand said.
“It is how it will work on this one occasion,” Blayne told him with a deliberate edge to his words. “I’ll nae have Miss Russell slandered. Is that understood?”
Mr. Hallibrand swallowed as Blayne’s meaning sank in. “Of course. I’ll be fair and discreet. And I’ll let you see it before I show it to anyone else.”
“Very good,” Blayne said.
Mr. Hallibrand responded with a curt nod, and then he was gone.
Blayne blew out a breath, released his hold on Charlotte, and scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “Bloody hell.”
Charlotte stared at the door through which Mr. Hallibrand had departed. As if recalling the glass of brandy he’d given her earlier, she raised it to her lips and downed the contents. She wheezed slightly, then seemed to recover. “Blayne…I…God, I’m so sorry.”
“Aye, lass. Me too. Ye dinnae deserve to be saddled with me, but I didnae ken what else to say in the moment.” It was the truth. Either she was to be his wife or Mr. Hallibrand would presume she was his mistress, which would be just as bad as calling her his whore.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” She stared at him as if in amazement, then set the glass aside. “I came in here, intent on proving my love, and instead I trapped you in the exact situation you told me you wished to avoid. It was stupidly impulsive of me and not at all how I wanted things to turn out. I just thought if you understood how deep my feelings for you truly are, you would know there is nothing you could tell me to make me walk away. But I was a fool. I didn’t see Mr. Hallibrand when I arrived and I didn’t pause long enough to give you a chance to explain. And now you have sacrificed your own freedom for me. Blayne, listen, we can find a way out of this, surely.”
“Not without making things worse.”
