* * *
The next evening, Charlotte had her head in a book as she made her way to her room and nearly walked directly into Elizabeth in the corridor.
The dowager duchess stood outside her chambers in a rich plum evening gown trimmed with lace, looking immensely pleasedwith herself. Hannah fussed beside her with a shawl while Elizabeth tapped her fan impatiently against her wrist.
“There you are, dear,” Elizabeth declared brightly. “It is time for dinner.”
Charlotte blinked in confusion. “Are you not taking dinner in your room this evening as usual, Your Grace?”
“No.” Elizabeth smiled mysteriously. “Tonight is a formal dinner. I had Cook arrange it.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to reply just as footsteps approached down the corridor. Victor appeared moments later, dressed in black evening clothes that fit him far too well for her comfort. His dark waistcoat sharpened the breadth of his shoulders while the snowy white cravat at his throat somehow only made him appear more wicked.
Charlotte immediately regretted looking at him.
Victor glanced between them. “Grandmother, I was informed you intended to dine in the formal room tonight.”
“We are,” Elizabeth replied happily. “You, me, and Charlotte.”
Charlotte’s stomach dropped. Elizabeth turned toward her expectantly. “Well? Hurry upstairs and put on a proper dinner dress.”
Charlotte instinctively looked toward Victor in mild panic. Surely he would stop this madness.
Instead, the rogue merely nodded once. “Yes. We shall wait for you in the drawing room, Charlotte.”
Charlotte stared at him in betrayal. He looked entirely too amused. Charlotte quietly went to her room, and as she dressed, she realized she did not protest the invitation.
I simply do not have it in me anymore to argue.
“This fake betrothal is becoming entirely unmanageable,” she muttered while fastening the final ribbon of her gown.
She had selected one of her nicest evening dresses, a soft ivory silk with modest gold embroidery across the bodice. It was elegant without appearing too grand, though Charlotte still worried it looked terribly plain compared to the splendour of Mulford Manor.
Then again, Victor would probably tease her regardless of what she wore.
That man seemed to derive genuine joy from making me blush.
Charlotte pressed cool fingers briefly against her heated cheeks before forcing herself downstairs.
The drawing room doors opened immediately upon her arrival. Victor rose first.
His eyes found her at once, and Charlotte hated the way her breath caught beneath the weight of his gaze. He looked her over slowly enough to make warmth crawl embarrassingly across her skin before one corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“There you are,” he said softly.
Charlotte instantly suspected the man knew precisely what his voice did to her nerves.
Elizabeth beamed proudly. “You look lovely, dear.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
Victor offered Charlotte his arm with infuriating elegance. “Shall we?”
She hesitated only briefly before placing her hand upon his sleeve.
Mistake. A terrible mistake.
Even through layers of fabric, she felt the solid warmth of him beneath her fingertips, and Victor glanced downward with entirely too much awareness before escorting them both toward dinner.
