Hundreds eventually passed through Alderley.
She spoke with many of them—girls from different counties, most from workhouses, nearly all orphaned and entirely alone in the world. Her heart ached painfully at their stories.
The Odd Fellows had selected their victims carefully.
Charlotte recalled how governesses and maids had quietly disappeared from Alderley Park over the years, their absences casually explained away by Mrs Dent and Mrs Wilberforce as elopements or sudden departures.
Similar stories emerged from Bainbridge’s and Wolverton’s estates.
It turned out that Lucy’s beau was none other than the Captain. She was merely one among many girls deceived by him—lured with promises of affection and marriage before discovering his true nature. He had been remarkably skilled at playing the devoted suitor—a clever disguise for a man so charming and convincing.
The true wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Even Charlotte herself had nearly fallen prey to it.
Horrified by all she had learned, Charlotte silently vowed that every one of the girls would be placed in safe homes and properly cared for. One glance at the grim determination etched across Lord Stanley’s face told her he intended the same.
Together, they began discussing something more permanent: a women’s home at Alderley Park where vulnerable girls might learn skills, find employment, or even establish businesses of their own.
Since his mother’s imprisonment, Charlotte had expected Tom to be distraught. Instead, he seemed happier, calmer—almost relieved. His nightmares faded, and he no longer feared the dark.
She remembered those tense little lunches with Mrs Wilberforce and realised, with a painful jolt, that the poor boy had feared his mother all along.
Mr Wilberforce eventually returned from hiding, as the threat against his life had passed, and resumed his parliamentary efforts under the support of Lord Stanley and his restored funding.
And Lord Stanley himself became a man wholly consumed by purpose.
Beyond their duties and the constant revelations surrounding the Odd Fellows, he and Charlotte spoke of little else. They were rarely alone, almost always surrounded by Bow Street Runners, rescued girls, or Tom.
Charlotte often found herself glancing towards him.
But he always appeared absorbed in work.
After a few relentless weeks, matters finally began to settle, leaving Charlotte with far too much time to think.
She was hopelessly in love with Lord Stanley, and after learning the truth of what the Captain had told her, she had dared to hope he might return her regard.
Yet as the weeks passed and he failed to broach the subject of matrimony, that hope began slowly to wither.
Now that everything was over, she found herself doubting every tender look and every moment of concern he had shown her. Perhaps his protectiveness had merely been the honourable instinct of a decent man towards a woman in his employ. Perhaps he had no wish to marry at all.
Or perhaps, if he did, it would be to someone elegant and accomplished—which was decidedly not her.
She remembered his earlier words: that matrimony to her would never again enter his mind.
Perhaps he had meant them.
And she would never accept the position of a mistress—something fashionable gentlemen too often offered impoverished women. The very thought made her cringe.
Her name had now been cleared, and she would come into possession of her inheritance. Perhaps she ought to make plans to settle quietly somewhere in the countryside with Sarah, just as they had once planned.
The more she considered it, the more convinced she became that it was the sensible course.
Determined at last to speak plainly with Lord Stanley, she sought him out one evening after he had returned from yet another journey to Manchester.
She paused outside the study door, hesitating.
She could not endure the uncertainty any longer.
