Charlotte obeyed at once. “Did you require anything, Your Grace? It is nearly time for bed. Are you not tired?”
Elizabeth sighed wistfully. “I have been thinking,” she said. “It has been ever so long since I last visited Hyde Park. Not one promenade in such a long time.”
Charlotte’s expression softened. “You miss it.”
“Terribly,” Elizabeth admitted. “I should like to promenade tomorrow. I miss society dreadfully.”
Charlotte hesitated slightly. She remembered what Victor had said about Elizabeth’s previous outing and the embarrassment it had caused. Yet looking at the older woman now, so hopeful and eager, Charlotte could not bear the thought of denying her outright.
“Let me see what I can do,” she said gently.
Elizabeth brightened immediately. “You are such a good girl.”
Charlotte smiled faintly before rising once more. “I shall speak with the duke.”
Elizabeth waved her away happily. “Convince him,” she said. “Victor can be terribly stubborn.”
Charlotte nearly laughed. “On that point, Your Grace, we are in complete agreement.”
She found Victor exactly where she expected, in his study, standing near the window with papers spread across his desk and a glass of brandy in his hand. He looked up as she entered, his expression unreadable.
She noticed that his cravat had been loosened around his neck and a few buttons had been undone. She forced herself to not allow her eyes to linger.
“Miss Brown,” he said. “To what do I owe this pleasure, at this hour?”
Charlotte ignored the slight warmth his voice caused in her chest. “I wish to discuss your grandmother.”
Victor’s posture shifted immediately, attention sharpening. “Has something happened?”
“No,” Charlotte said quickly. “Nothing is wrong.” She stepped further inside. “Elizabeth wishes to promenade in Hyde Park tomorrow.”
Victor’s expression hardened at once. “No.”
Charlotte blinked. “You refused remarkably quickly.”
“Because the answer is remarkably simple,” he replied.
“She misses society,” Charlotte argued. “She hardly leaves the manor.”
“And for good reason,” Victor said coolly.
Charlotte folded her arms. “Your Grace, she is lonely.”
“She is protected.”
“She is imprisoned,” Charlotte corrected sharply.
Victor’s gaze narrowed. “You overstep.”
“And you overprotect,” she returned immediately.
He moved away from the window slowly and poured himself another glass. He gulped it down.
“The last time she went out, she mistook a stranger for my grandfather in the middle of Hyde Park. Such a thing would have tongues wagging if it happened again.”
Charlotte’s expression softened briefly. “That must have been difficult.”
“It was humiliating,” he said flatly.
