“I think perhaps we ought to return home.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said at once. “You poor thing.”
Guilt stabbed Charlotte immediately.
I do not want to lie to her, but I do not know what else to do.
Elizabeth had enjoyed herself so much, and now Charlotte was ruining the outing entirely because she lacked the courage to explain the disaster properly.
Still, what else could I do?
They returned toward the carriage at a slower pace while Elizabeth fussed gently over her. “You are quite pale,” the dowager worried.
“I shall recover shortly,” Charlotte promised weakly.
The footman helped them back inside the carriage, and Elizabeth sighed contentedly as they settled into their seats.
“Despite your illness,” she said warmly, “I had a lovely afternoon. We shall do this once a week.”
Charlotte smiled guiltily.
Meanwhile, her mind raced ahead toward one horrifying certainty. At some point very soon, she would have to tell Victorwhat had happened. And somehow, she suspected the duke was not going to enjoy the news nearly as much as Elizabeth had.
Will he fire me directly?
CHAPTER 9
Victor sat alone at the far end of the dining room table, staring with deep resentment at a plate of roasted beef he no longer wished to eat. Sunlight spilled mercilessly through the tall windows, turning the silverware painfully bright and making the steady ache behind his eyes considerably worse. A half-finished cup of coffee sat untouched near his hand, long gone cold, while the remains of his late luncheon looked thoroughly unappealing. At present, he regretted every glass of whisky he had consumed the previous night.
The headache was entirely self-inflicted.
In hindsight, spending hours at the gaming tables until dawn had been a remarkably poor decision, even by his standards. Yet after kissing Charlotte in his study, remaining inside Mulford Manor had suddenly become intolerable. He had needed noise, distraction, and enough alcohol to drown out the unsettling memory of her pressed against him.
Unfortunately, none of it succeeded.
Victor rubbed a tired hand across his face as frustration simmered beneath his exhaustion. The kiss should not have affected him so strongly. He was hardly some inexperienced youth undone by a pretty face and a pair of expressive eyes.
Still, he could not stop remembering it. The warmth of Charlotte’s mouth beneath his. The startled little breath she gave against his lips. The way she kissed him back for one dangerous moment before realizing herself.
Victor scowled faintly.
It meant nothing.
He was attracted to women constantly. Charlotte merely happened to be nearby and infuriating in ways that annoyed him more than pleased him. That was all.
The sudden sound of hurried footsteps shattered the quiet atmosphere of the dining room. A second later, the doors burst open.
Victor looked up sharply. Charlotte hurried inside, looking visibly distressed.
Her cheeks were flushed from haste, her bonnet slightly askew, and panic practically radiated from her entire person. She paused only long enough to catch her breath before focusing entirely upon him.
Interesting.
“You appear distressed,” Victor observed lazily, though his attention sharpened immediately.
Charlotte pressed one hand against her chest as though steadying herself. “We have a problem.”
Victor remained seated, entirely calm in appearance despite the faint wariness curling beneath his ribs. “Only one?”
