by Dawn Brower
Cameron frowned. “The other lady,” he began. “Not the one in the breeches,” he clarified. “She might be my fiancée.”
“Ah,” Collin said suddenly understanding. “We should make haste then. Wouldn’t do for her to realize you’re in England would it.”
“No,” he agreed, then frowned again. “She’s lovelier than I remember.” The last bit was spoken in a mere murmur, but Collin had heard it, nonetheless.
Had this little outing given Cameron something to consider? The dark haired lady was indeed beautiful. At least what he could see of her. The blonde though…the daring one…something about her appealed to him. The fact that he could see every one of her curves outlined in those breeches certainly didn’t leave much to the imagination either. She hadn’t thought this scheme of hers through. Any red-blooded male would find her attributes appealing, and Collin was far from saintly.
“Oh, no,” Collin said. The Duke and Duchess of Weston, along with the Marquess and Marchioness of Seabrook strolled into the park. Only then did he realize exactly who the blonde chit was, or more importantly who her parents were. “The commotion is about to take a turn for the worse.”
Cameron lifted a brow. “I do not understand.”
He gestured toward the front of the park. “I do believe the Marchioness of Seabrook is about to strangle her only daughter.” Cameron glanced at the two couples then over to the two vixens causing the uproar.
“Ah,” his friend said, and then grinned. “It might be worth it to sit back and witness the scene unravel.” He shook his head. “Not sure if I want to risk it though. It’s a pity we cannot stay.”
“True,” Collin agreed. “The Duchess of Weston may prove to be the voice of reason. She works with my cousin, Marian, and she’s not the normal lady of the ton. She has more…progressive ideas.”
Cameron sighed. “It’s best we make haste. The ton is too busy gossiping over what’s before them, and we can make a quick exit.”
“Lead the way,” Collin told him.
He’d much rather return to his Uncle Charles’s, the Earl of Coventry’s, house anyway. He had to discern the best way to handle his current situation. If Cameron hadn’t shown up unexpectedly he would have stayed in the study perusing the ledgers of his estate. His estate manager had up and quit, and from what he could tell, the man had left everything in ruins. He’d siphoned funds from the estate coffers and didn’t do any of the repairs. Collin might have to go to Peacehaven and live at his manor until they were all done to his liking. He didn’t trust leaving it to anyone else to complete.
Collin still had to talk to the authorities about tracking the man down. He hated that he’d lounged in London living a mercurial life while he’d been robbed blind. What a fool he’d been. He should have gone to his estate a long time ago. If there was not too much pain involved regarding his ancestral home he might have. He hadn’t returned to Peacehaven since his parent’s death. He wasn’t certain he could go without his heart ripping into pieces, but it seemed he had little choice. No one else could do it for him, and it was time he grew up and stopped avoiding his responsibilities.
They exited the park without anyone noticing. Collin glanced back one last time at the lady in breeches. Part of him hoped they crossed paths again. He wanted to ask her about her adventure and reasoning. It would be an interesting tale… He would be unlikely to see her again though. Soon he’d be in the country buried in house repairs, and farming updated. None of that would have anything to do with an unconventional lady that dared to ride her horse in the park in men’s clothing…
Charlotte paced her bedroom. She’d been banished there upon returning home. Once there she’d stripped off the borrowed men’s clothing and redressed herself in her own undergarments and gown. Her mother would have a fit if she came downstairs still wearing breeches. For a moment she had thought her mother might strangle her in the park. She couldn’t recall ever seeing the Marchioness of Seabrook that angry before. Her face had been so red it rivaled a Kingston Black apple for coloring.
Her parent’s had been incredibly angry. Far more livid than she had anticipated… This scheme of hers had seemed like such a good way to get what she wanted. Now she questioned the veracity of what she had believed. She hated disappointing her parents. Especially her father…she’d always admired him and how brave he’d been during the war. If she ever married she hoped the gentleman she gave her heart to could be equally as courageous. Not that she hoped the country experienced anything resembling a war, but she still wanted the quality to be deep inside her fictitious love before she gave him her heart. It didn’t seem like too much to ask…
The door to her bedchamber flung open. A maid stepped inside and curtsied. “Pardon me, milady,” she said. “Your mother and father request your presence in the salon.”
Her heart beat heavily in her chest. This was it. The reckoning she’d caused would gain her permission to travel back to Seabrook. She would have the freedom to work on her novel and not worry about any social engagements. Charlotte swallowed hard and took a fortifying breath. “Thank you, Mildred,” she said to the maid. She was proud of how even she spoke. Her voice didn’t show the nervousness that rattled through her entire body. It was a miracle she wasn’t shaking uncontrollably. Somehow she doubted request had been the tone her parent’s had used—more like ordered or demanded. Request implied she had a choice. Charlotte was pretty certain the correct word to describe what her parent’s desired of her was more of a demand.
She stopped outside of the salon and took another breath. Somehow she thought she’d need it for the upcoming confrontation. Charlotte took a tentative step and then entered the salon. She kept her head held high. It wouldn’t do her any good to show weakness. Her parent’s, as much as she loved them, were merciless. They’d have her weeping and running back to her room if she allowed them to gut her with their words. That wasn’t to say they were unkind. Her parents were loving and nurturing to her as she grew from a child to a young woman, but they also didn’t suffer fools. Charlotte would wager they considered her deeds beyond foolish. “You wished to see me?” Her mother looked serene without one strand of her midnight locks out of place. There wasn’t even any color in her skin. Gone was the dark red blotches and nothing but creamy skin remained.
It wasn’t really a question, but somehow it slipped out as one…
“Please have a seat,” her father said gesturing to a chair near the settee they were already seated at. Her mother calmly poured a cup a tea and put two lumps of sugar in it. She sipped it as if she wasn’t about to deliver a punishment to her daughter. Merciless…
“We’re not going to discuss your actions,” her father began. His golden blond hair was disheveled. He must have run his hand through his locks several times in frustration. “It’s pointless to repeat the details of the incident. What is done is done.” He lifted a glass filled with amber liquid and took a sip. No tea for her father…that was brandy he had in his glass. She’d driven her dear father to drink. “What we are going to discuss is what we have decided to do about the situation.”
Her mother picked up a scone and slathered it with jam and took a bite. Was she going to ignore Charlotte for the entirety of the conversation? Somehow that hurt…worse. “I understand,” she answered. Somehow she managed to keep her tone void of emotion. So far she was handling it all without issue. She could do this.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
She shook her head slowly. It wouldn’t do any good to defend her actions. Charlotte had dressed as a man and rode through Hyde Park…on purpose. There was no excuse that would be acceptable. “I don’t wish to compound anything with any defense of my actions. I’ll accept what you decide.” There was only one place she would be sent.
“That is wise of you,” her father told her. “Especially as you don’t have a choice.”
That didn’t sound…good. A foreboding settled deep inside her gut. “All right…” She swallowed h
ard. “What have you decided?”
“We had a couple of options,” her father began. Couple? There was only one…Seabrook… What did he mean? “Seabrook is always an option, but if we sent you home you wouldn’t learn any profound lessons. So that won’t do at all.”
Her heart sank and her stomach started to hurt. What was happening? Where were they going to send her? This was wrong, all wrong. “If I’m not to go home where will I go?”
A smile formed on her mother’s face. It was almost…menacing. “I thought that was what you wanted.” She set her tea down and met Charlotte’s gaze. “You’re going to stay with your Great Aunt Seraphina. She lives alone and it’ll be a benefit to her to have you with her for the next several months.”
Aunt Seraphina…was ancient. All right that was perhaps an exaggeration. Charlotte didn’t want to spend the next several months with her aunt as company. She’d want to talk and have social engagements; all the things Charlotte had wanted to avoid. This had not gone as planned, but she couldn’t go back and change anything. She had done this to herself, and she’d have to make do with the situation. How bad could it be?