“And the villains?” Charlotte quietly asked.
“Oh. They were all hanged by their necks outside the Old Bailey a few days later.”
Expelling a sigh of relief, Charlotte sank back against her seat and drank some tea. As gory as the account might have been, it didn’t put her off at all. Instead, it made her wish Blayne was there so she could hug him and kiss him for selflessly risking his life in order to save the innocent.
“Forgive me if this next question may sound a bit foolish,” Charlotte said, “but what exactly should I call your husband? I mean, you refer to him as Carlton, but I know that’s not his real name, so I’m not quite sure which to use.”
Regina chuckled. “It’s not easy, I’ll grant you. Even I had trouble figuring that out for a while but in the end we decided that Carlton Guthrie, while assumed, is the name he’s become accustomed to after using it most of his life. He only ever uses Valentine Sterling, Duke of Windham, when he’s out among his fellow peers or introducing himself to someone for the first time. But here in this house he is either Carlton or Guthrie. He won’t mind which part of the name you choose to refer to him by.”
“I think I shall call him Guthrie, then,” Charlotte said. “According to what you have told me, I do believe I’ll like him a great deal.”
Regina offered Charlotte a biscuit. “I think you will find that the men who once ruled St. Giles are the most likeable ones in existence.”
After enjoying a late luncheon with Regina, Charlotte took her time settling in, reflecting on her current situation, and penning a letter to her mother. Her only regret was the rift she had with her father. She wished he’d been more understanding, more supportive, and simply more able to ignore the social strictures for once. Of course, she realized it was a lot to ask, but she was his daughter for heaven’s sake. She did not need to have children of her own yet to know she would do anything in the world to secure their happiness.
Folding the letter she’d written, she set it aside and after enjoying a lovely bath, dressed for dinner. Daisy, who’d accompanied her to Windham House, helped. Charlotte knew she would soon have to make new arrangements for the loyal servant since she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep on paying her salary. At least not if she and Blayne were to put every penny they owned toward the countryside home they wanted.
Deciding to mull over the matter at greater length before making a decision, Charlotte thanked Daisy for her assistance and went to meet her hosts in the parlor. She entered the room and sucked in a breath when she spotted Blayne. He sat on the sofa across from Regina and Guthrie, while a third gentleman Charlotte had not yet met occupied an armchair.
Blayne’s eyes shifted toward her, brightening the moment their gazes met. A smile touched his lips as he quickly stood and came toward her.
“Ach, luv,” he murmured, not breaking his stride until they were so close she’d be in his arms if she took a step forward. “Ye look bonnie this evening.”
Bowing his head, he placed a kiss against her cheek, so achingly tender and slow it burned its way under her skin. Fearing her legs might buckle, she instinctively grabbed his arm.
“Steady now.” His low chuckle rumbled through her, stirring to life every yearning she’d pushed aside while dealing with more practical matters. “Yer swooning will have to wait until later when we’re alone.”
“Devilish scoundrel,” she muttered under her breath while mortification heated her cheeks.
“Aye. I cannae deny what I am,” Blayne whispered against her ear while steering her toward the rest of the group. “And I must confess I look forward to showing ye just how devilish I can be once we’re married. But first,” he added, raising his voice while Charlotte did her best not to go up in flames, “I must introduce ye to Regina’s brother, Mr. Marcus Berkly. From what I gather, the two of ye havenae yet met.”
Mr. Berkly gave a short bow. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Russell.”
“Likewise, Mr. Berkly.”
“Do call me Marcus. Everyone else here does and once you marry that hulking Scotsman by your side, we’ll practically be related. Isn’t that so, Guthrie?”
“Indeed,” Guthrie said. “No other man has ever been more like a brother to me than Blayne. I am immensely pleased to see him get settled and very happy to welcome you to our family, Charlotte.”
Warmth spread through Charlotte’s veins on account of the welcome she was receiving. Foregoing titles in favor of given names lent an intimate closeness she’d never experienced with her own family. It undid her in a way, filling her with endless amounts of gratitude for these people who’d gone to remarkable lengths for her when her own parents hadn’t been willing to act.
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything. Your hospitality and generosity are without compare.”
Much to Charlotte’s relief, Guthrie seemed to appreciate the compliment. He was a strange sort of man – the kind she could never quite read. His gaze often scrutinized while his expression refused to give away even the tiniest hint of what he was thinking. It put her slightly on edge, so she was glad Blayne was there to help ease her nerves.
“Tell me, Charlotte,” Marcus said once dinner had been announced and they’d taken their seats at the dining room table. “I do hope you don’t mind me calling you Charlotte. If I recall, you never gave me leave to do so.”
“It’s quite all right,” she said. “And expected if I am to use your given name.”
“Nevertheless, a gentleman ought to ask for permission.” Marcus smiled. “What I was going to ask is whether you’ve settled on a date for the wedding?”
“Oh. Um…” Charlotte hadn’t even spared it one thought yet. She glanced at Blayne, seeking guidance.
“Charlotte and I havenae had a chance to discuss any dates yet,” Blayne said. “But since our attachment will soon be described in the papers, I think it best to act with haste, which is why I spent several hours today securing a special license.”
He placed his hand over Charlotte’s, adding strength and warmth. Her heart fluttered in response, not only because of his touch but because of his words and what they implied. “We could marry tomorrow if we wish?”
“Aye. Provided we’re able to find a vicar who’s free to perform the service.”
