Charlotte stared at them both in betrayal. “You cannot possibly be leaving.”
Arabella gave her a deeply unhelpful encouraging smile. “We shall be nearby.”
“Arabella… but…”
But her cousin was already shepherding Margaret toward the door. Margaret offered Charlotte an apologetic little wave before disappearing entirely.
Traitors.
The door closed behind them, leaving Charlotte alone with the duke.
Victor looked faintly amused. “You appear abandoned.”
“You appear unwelcome,” Charlotte replied at once.
That earned the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth. He stepped further into the room, removing his gloves with deliberate calm while Charlotte tried very hard not to notice how elegant his hands looked.
“Well?” she asked briskly. “You have clearly not come to apologise, so what is it you want?”
His gaze flicked toward her sharply. “You expected an apology?”
“I expect nothing,” Charlotte said. “Though in hindsight that was overly optimistic.”
Victor huffed a quiet laugh. “No,” he said. “I have not come to apologize.”
“Of course not,” she muttered.
“I have come with a proposition.”
Charlotte folded her arms. “How ominous.”
“My grandmother is distressed by your absence,” he said simply. “She asks for you constantly.”
Charlotte’s irritation faltered at once. “Is she unwell?” she asked quickly. “Did she sleep properly? Has she been eating?”
Victor watched her carefully now, something unreadable flickering briefly across his expression. “She will be fine,” he said. “Provided you return.”
Charlotte exhaled softly in relief before catching herself. “As her companion?”
“Yes,” he said.
She frowned slightly. “That cannot possibly require a personal visit from a duke.”
“No,” he agreed calmly. “It does not.”
A dreadful feeling settled in her stomach.
Victor held her gaze steadily. “You would also continue acting as my betrothed.”
Charlotte stared at him.
Not a chance!
“You cannot be serious about such a matter,” she said.
“I rarely joke regarding family matters,” he replied.
“Why would I agree to such insanity?” she demanded.
