If only Elizabeth knew the truth and would accept it. The staff certainly knows it is a false engagement.
“Your Grace,” Charlotte said carefully, “I hardly believe I wield power over the duke in any way.”
“Nonsense,” Elizabeth replied at once. “Victor has been impossible since infancy. The fact that he agreed to this outing proves you possess extraordinary powers.”
Charlotte felt heat rise unexpectedly into her cheeks.
Unfortunately, her mind immediately betrayed her with the memory of Victor kissing her in his study. The warmth ofhis mouth, the strength of his hand against her waist, the maddening calm in his expression afterwards,
Absolutely not. Do not think of it.
She shoved the thought firmly aside.
“You know,” Charlotte said quickly, desperate to redirect both the conversation and her own mind, “I believe I shall fetch a morsel from the kitchen before we leave. I also need to give my letters to Mr. Baxter for posting.”
Elizabeth smiled approvingly. “A fine idea, my dear. Perhaps you might ask the cook to prepare something for our drive as well?”
“Of course.”
“And lemon cakes,” Elizabeth added hopefully.
Charlotte laughed softly. “I shall see what may be done.”
She slipped from the room. The corridors downstairs were quiet as Charlotte descended toward the foyer, though her thoughts remained frustratingly occupied. She had promised herself repeatedly not to dwell upon what happened in Victor’s study. It had merely been a kiss born of irritation and proximity and his apparently unbearable habit of silencing arguments in scandalous ways.
Yet somehow the memory lingered constantly.
Annoying man.
Mr. Baxter appeared just as she entered the foyer, carrying a silver tray with his usual unshakable dignity.
“Ah, Miss Brown,” he said politely.
Charlotte handed him the stack of letters. “Would you please see these sent immediately?”
“Certainly, Miss.”
“And Lady Elizabeth and I shall require the carriage shortly for Hyde Park.”
Baxter inclined his head. “It is already prepared.”
Charlotte smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”
She made her way toward the kitchens, already anticipating Elizabeth’s delight over the outing. Truthfully, Charlotte was looking forward to it as well. Elizabeth deserved more than endless confinement within the manor walls, and Charlotte privately felt rather triumphant over convincing Victor to allow it.
Though admittedly, the method by which she achieved victory remained deeply irritating. As she approached the kitchens, voices drifted through the partially open doorway.
“Did you hear the duke is still abed?” one maid whispered excitedly.
Charlotte slowed instinctively.
“At this hour?” another gasped. “Is he ill?”
“No,” the first maid replied. “Apparently, he returned only just before dawn.”
Charlotte recognized the speakers vaguely, Nora and Paula, two younger scullery maids with a dangerous fondness for gossip.
“Where was he?” Paula asked eagerly.
