“It is dreadfully busy today,” Irene observed.
“Market day,” Harriet replied. “Half of London appears determined to crowd the streets at once.”
A sharp shout sounded somewhere nearby. Charlotte glanced toward the window just in time to see a man leap desperately aside as another carriage thundered past too quickly. Her breath caught painfully in her throat. The horses narrowly missed trampling him before disappearing into the sea of traffic ahead.
Charlotte’s stomach turned cold.
Immediately, her thoughts flew to Victor. She remembered the tension that seized his jaw whenever he stepped into a carriage. The tightness in his fists. The haunted look hidden deep within his eyes whenever roads grew crowded. Suddenly, she could almost picture the terrible accident from years ago, though she had never witnessed it herself. The idea of Victor as a frightened boy trapped amongst wreckage made her chest ache unbearably.
“Oh dear,” Penelope murmured after noticing Charlotte’s expression. “Now she truly looks stricken.”
Joan grinned wickedly. “She is thinking about the duke again.”
“I am thinking,” Charlotte replied quietly, “that perhaps I ought not have left him.”
The carriage fell briefly silent. Even Harriet softened at those words. Charlotte stared down at her gloved hands and finally admitted the truth to herself fully. She missed him with an ache that reached into every corner of her heart. His arrogance vexed her beyond measure, yet she longed for his teasing remarks and infuriating smirks all the same.
“I think,” Irene said gently, “that your husband likely misses you as well.”
Charlotte swallowed hard. “Do you believe so?”
Joan rolled her eyes. “Charlotte, that man looks ready to start wars whenever another gentleman speaks to you.”
Penelope nodded eagerly. “Indeed. I once thought he might strike poor Lord Haversham simply for complimenting your gown.”
Harriet smirked. “A possessive duke is an excellent thing, daughter.”
Charlotte could not help laughing softly at that. Yet beneath the humor, hope fluttered within her.
Had he noticed the emptiness of Mulford Manor without me there? Or had he simply returned to business and forgotten my absence entirely?
Before she could dwell further upon it, the carriage suddenly lurched violently.
Penelope screamed. Harriet grabbed the straps overhead whilst Joan nearly tumbled from her seat. Charlotte’s shoulder struck the carriage wall as the horses gave frightened whinnies outside. The entire coach jolted to a sharp halt so abruptly that all five women were thrown forward in confusion and panic.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then shouting erupted outside. Horses cried out. Men yelled over one another in alarm somewhere beyond the carriage doors. Charlotte’s heart pounded wildly as dread swept through her entire body.
“What happened?” Irene whispered fearfully.
Another violent jolt shook the carriage.
And then came the horrifying sound of splintering wood nearby.
CHAPTER 29
Victor walked with Lionel through the halls of Mulford Manor toward the foyer, and for the first time in years the distance between the brothers felt smaller. Their conversation in the gardens had exhausted him in ways no business dealings or sleepless nights ever had. Yet despite the ache in his chest, Victor also felt strangely lighter, as though some burden he had carried since boyhood had finally loosened its grip. Lionel had listened to every ugly confession without judgment. Victor still did not know what to do with such understanding.
Lionel paused near the grand staircase and adjusted his gloves with a crooked smile. “Well then, it appears we have finally managed to behave like actual brothers.”
Victor snorted softly. “Do not grow sentimental on me now.”
“Oh, I fully intend to,” Lionel replied. “I may even embrace you again merely to make you uncomfortable.”
“You already have once today. Let us not make a habit of it.”
Lionel laughed outright at that. “You see? There is hope for you yet.”
