‘Am we truly in danger?’
Lord Stanley regarded her steadily.
‘Yes.’ His eyes moved slowly across her face. ‘As you said, if girls are disappearing from this estate, it is entirely possible you or Sarah may be targeted next.’ His voice lowered slightly. ‘I would hate for any harm to befall you.’
Charlotte rose slowly from her chair, startled by the quiet intensity of the warning.
‘Just a moment.’
Her stomach tightened. Was he about to reprimand her for interfering? Had she said too much?
Instead, to her astonishment, he bowed with quiet formality.
‘It has occurred to me that I have been remiss in not properly acknowledging you for saving my life,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you. I am in your debt.’
Heat rushed instantly to Charlotte’s cheeks.
He straightened, though his gaze lingered upon hers. Some indefinable softness had entered his expression, leaving her strangely rooted to the spot.
Unable to withstand the intensity of his attention any longer, she looked away. Her fingers toyed nervously with the edge of her sleeve as colour crept steadily up her neck.
But after a moment, his expression hardened once more.
‘However,’ he said, ‘I do not want you involving yourself in this matter any further. Am I understood?’
Charlotte hesitated.
‘Of course,’ she replied evasively, while privately intending nothing of the sort.
She took a step towards the door, then paused.
‘There is one other matter, my lord.’
Charlotte suppressed a smile at his exasperated sigh.
‘Yes, Miss Lucas?’
Folding her hands primly before her, she said, ‘I believe I am due a raise.’
‘I daresay you are.’
As she left the room, she was followed by the low rumble of his laughter.
Perhaps the Icy Baron was thawing after all.
Chapter 23
Mrs Wilberforce complained—as did the other ladies. They felt woefully neglected by the gentlemen, particularly since Mr Wilberforce’s departure, and insisted upon greater attention in the evenings. Thus coerced, the gentlemen reluctantly agreed to participate in more civilised amusements.
Charlotte was glad of it; she may even have championed their efforts, for it allowed her to observe them more closely—and, she hoped, in a more sober state.
A twinge of guilt stirred at Lord Stanley’s warning. Still, what he did not know would not harm him, she told herself. She would be discreet.
As she entered the drawing room, she found Lady Bainbridge in unusually high spirits. She sat surrounded by Mr Hamilton, Miss Fraser, and young Miss Payne, all bright laughter and animated conversation, whilst Mr Payne’s awkward son lingered nearby, preening in what was clearly an attempt to appear dashing before Miss Oswald.
Lord Bainbridge leaned heavily upon his cane, his decrepit legs trembling beneath him as he held court amongst severalgentlemen. Charlotte’s attention sharpened at once upon the easy familiarity between him and Lord Wolverton.
Her eyes narrowed.
