“If you do this, you forfeit the two hundred pounds I was prepared to give you in dowry.”
“Fine,” she countered. “We’ll make do without it.”
“Charlotte, please be reasonable,” Mama pressed.
Everet entered the parlor before Charlotte had a chance to respond. “A letter for you, Miss Russell.”
Doing her best not to take her frustration out on the butler, Charlotte thanked him and took the letter from the salver he held toward her. She tore the seal and scanned the contents.
Dear Miss Russell,
You are invited to participate in a meeting between myself and the man who submitted the manuscript you claim was stolen. Please be at my office at nine o’clock on August twenty-second. Hopefully, the matter you’ve brought before me can be cleared up then.
Sincerely,
Mr. P. Agerson
Apparently when it rained it poured. The date Mr. P. Agerson suggested was in two days. Charlotte closed her eyes for a brief moment while aligning herself with the fact that her chance of reacquiring her rights to the manuscript would in all likelihood slip through her fingers. Because when it came to a matter of choice, there was only one – Blayne needed her and nothing was going to stop her from doing all she could in order to save him. Which meant she would have to miss the meeting with the publisher.
Jaw set, Charlotte pocketed the letter and faced her parents. “I’ll see you both when I return.”
“If you leave this house right now to chase after that good for nothing gutter rat, you’ll never be welcome here again,” Papa sputtered.
Mama gasped and proceeded to plea with her husband to not be so cruel. “She’s our daughter, my lord. Please be reasonable.”
“In my opinion, I’ve been more than reasonable where she’s concerned. God’s teeth, the chit should have married Mr. Cooper when she had the chance.”
Fuming, Charlotte left the house she’d grown up in without any further goodbyes, and climbed into the recently arrived Windham carriage where Marcus waited.
“Trouble with the parents?” he inquired once Charlotte and Daisy had taken the opposite bench.
“You have no idea,” Charlotte grumbled.
Marcus chuckled. “Never mind them. If all goes well you’ll get Blayne acquitted and marry him over an anvil.”
Allowing a smile in response to his jovial tone, Charlotte settled herself against the squabs and said, “That sounds like an excellent plan to me.”
18
The situation was worse than Blayne had feared. For one delusional second he’d let himself imagine Guthrie would work his magic and get him released. He might not be able to marry Charlotte or even go back to the life he’d known at The Black Swan, but he’d be alive, which was always something.
Instead, he now sat opposite his uncle in a carriage bound for Edinburgh. Two rough looking fellows Seamus had brought along for protection and for the purpose of keeping an eye on Blayne accompanied them.
“I’m guessing ye came to find me after seeing the wedding announcement in the paper?” Blayne willed himself to look Seamus straight in the eye. “I’m just nae sure how ye knew I was Blayne MacNeil.”
Seamus snorted. “Yer wedding announcement has nothing to do with me showing up in London. I came on account of a letter I received from an old friend.”
Blayne thought on that for a moment. “The Countess of Warwick by any chance?”
“Aye. She saw the resemblance between ye and yer da when she met ye and decided to reach out to me.”
“How considerate of her.”
“I think so.” When Blayne shifted his gaze toward the window, Seamus said, “Ye killed a man – my brother, as it happens. I’ll nae let ye get away with that. In fact, I’ve every intention of seeing justice served on his behalf.”
“He murdered Mr. Roberts. I saw the blood. It was everywhere. And he would have killed Mama too had I not acted.”
“Perhaps, but that doesnae mean I’m any keener to forgive ye for what ye did. I loved Bruce, ye ken?”
