Charlotte wanted desperately to believe that.
Instead, her mind betrayed her with vivid recollections she had not shared with either cousin. She remembered barging into that forbidden room with her ridiculous candlestick raised high, fully expecting to defend the manor from danger, only to find Victor standing there shirtless beside another woman. Worse still was the memory of the argument that followed, the tension between them, the way he had looked at her, the infuriatingly suggestive remarks that still made her cheeks warm when she thought too long about them.
She would sooner perish than confess any of that aloud.
“You are doing it again,” Arabella said.
“Doing what?”
“Thinking dramatically,” Arabella replied. “You look as though you are preparing for a trial.”
Margaret offered Charlotte a sympathetic smile. “I do not think you should blame yourself so harshly,” she said softly. “If you were unhappy there, surely leaving was sensible.”
“But sensible decisions are not always useful ones,” Charlotte said before she could stop herself.
A brief silence followed.
Arabella’s expression gentled slightly. “You have spent so long taking responsibility for everyone else,” she said. “You are allowed one impulsive mistake.”
Charlotte almost laughed at the word one. If only Arabella knew how thoroughly disastrous this particular mistake had been.
“And besides,” Arabella continued brightly, “you did leave with your dignity intact.”
Charlotte thought immediately of Victor smirking at her in the corridor while she stood in her nightgown, feeling entirely flustered and furious.
“Debatable,” she muttered.
Margaret blinked. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Charlotte said quickly.
Arabella studied her closely now, suspicion sharpening her amusement. “Charlotte Brown,” she said slowly, “I believe you are concealing details.”
“I am doing no such thing.”
“You absolutely are,” Arabella replied triumphantly.
Charlotte rose abruptly from her seat. “I believe I require fresh air,” she announced.
Arabella burst into laughter. “You see?” she said to Margaret. “Utter guilt.”
Margaret giggled softly behind her hand while Charlotte moved toward the open window with as much dignity as she could salvage.
Still, as their teasing continued behind her, her thoughts remained fixed on one terrible truth.
I've failed.
No matter how kindly her cousins tried to reassure her, she knew what was at stake. Every sacrificed ribbon, every reusedgown, every carefully managed coin at home depended upon her ability to endure discomfort for the sake of her family’s future.
And she had walked away because a handsome, infuriating duke had unsettled her far more than he ever should have.
Charlotte closed her eyes briefly.
What on earth am I going to do now?
The butler entered with practiced composure, “The Duke of Mulford has called upon Miss Brown.”
Silence fell over the room.
