Charlotte’s chest tightened painfully. How could she deny him such a small kindness?
‘I should like that, Captain.’
They stood together for a few moments longer, speaking quietly of his journey and preparations.
Then the Captain bowed.
‘In two days’ time, Miss Lucas.’
He departed shortly afterwards.
Charlotte turned to rejoin the spinsters, only to notice Lord Stanley standing not far behind her, conversing with Mrs Wilberforce just as the musicians struck up the opening notes of the supper dance—the waltz.
Had he overheard?
Mortification swept through her at once. Yet when she looked towards him, his expression remained unreadable.
Lord Stanley approached.
‘Miss Lucas, may I?’
She placed her hand in his, and he led her silently towards the dance floor.
‘My lord... Henry, I—’
‘Yes?’ he prompted.
His voice had deepened into a low, gravelly tone, yet all warmth had vanished from it. He looked almost impatient.
Charlotte wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to confess the truth outright.
She wanted to confess that she loved him.
But the words refused to come.
Why would a man like Lord Stanley ever choose a disgraced governess when Miss Pearson—the lady everyone expected him to marry—still waited in the wings?
If she confessed her feelings now, the honourable part of him would surely feel obliged to accept her. But then she would spend the remainder of her life wondering whether he truly loved her—or whether he had merely yielded to duty and obligation.
The thought pained her unbearably.
No. Before confessing her own feelings, she needed to know the truth of his heart.
As the waltz began, his hand settled against her waist, and instantly her thoughts scattered entirely.
Instead, a strange calm stole over her. A serenity she had never before experienced. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she belonged somewhere.
With him.
‘Whilst you gather your thoughts,’ he said at last, ‘I have a request to make. Once the arrests are made tomorrow, I shall need to conduct interviews with the house guests. I wondered whether you might care to assist me. It would mean extending our... arrangement a little longer.’
For the briefest instant, his usual confidence faltered. He looked almost uncertain.
She rested her hand lightly against his shoulder and she felt his muscles tense.
She nodded. ‘Of course.’
Something flickered across his features—whether hurt, irritation, or disdain, Charlotte could not tell.
