“Perfect.” She needed some way to counter her despair. Another adventure seemed the best way to do so, even if this one would be without James.
Chapter Twelve
James sighed as he followed Edward into Mrs. Fairchild’s mansion two evenings later. The widow was notorious for her parties where anything and everything could happen and often did. Edward was continuing his pursuit of an opera singer and had high hopes to convince her to become his mistress this evening. He’d insisted James come along though James had only agreed reluctantly.
“I still think you should find someone to fill your empty nights,” Edward said. “You have been far too dour of late. This party might provide the perfect opportunity.”
James didn't bother to disagree. He’d tried to tell Edward he had no interest in women at the moment. Not after Charlotte. But he couldn’t explain the reason without rousing Edward’s curiosity. It was easier to pretend he was open to the possibilities of an assignation.
His misery had only increased since sending Charlotte that note. He hadn't realized how much the hope of seeing her held him aloft, much like a gentle breeze kept a feather floating in the air. Without that hope, he had little to hold his interest each day. Would Lord Samuelson soon fill the role of her protector? The thought had him clenching his jaw.
As they made their way through the crowded corridor toward the makeshift ballroom, he searched for a drink. He needed some sort of prop to endure the evening.
“This should prove interesting.” Edward smiled as he took in the bright collection of colors. A few guests wore costumes of one sort or another. One man was dressed in a surprisingly accurate depiction of King George.
Similar to the last demimonde party they attended, nearly everyone wore a mask. James wondered if it was to hide their identity or if they simply found it added to the excitement and mystery of the evening. He wore one but certainly didn't care whether anyone recognized him.
James glanced around, thinking it all ridiculous. “People should find a more productive way to spend their time. The money spent on a ball such as this could do much to aid those in need.”
Edward patted his shoulder. “You should loosen up a bit. Life needn’t always be serious. Let us find you a drink.” He led the way to the refreshment table where glasses of champagne stood for the taking. “This will have to do for now,” Edward said as he handed James a flute.
James downed it in one gulp then set the empty glass back on the table and took another.
“If you keep that up, the night will be over before it begins,” Edward teased.
If only that were possible. But James kept the thought to himself. He would like nothing better than to move quickly through the night and reach morning. However, his days had significantly deteriorated of late. Not even the careful tending of his investments held his interest for long. Only thoughts of Charlotte did.
“How is your father?” James asked.
Edward stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. “What on earth would make you ask that now?”
“Just curious as to whether his gout continues to bother him.” What he really wanted to know was how Charlotte fared, but he could hardly ask. If Lord Wynn was in better spirits, Charlotte would be better as well. He knew how much more difficult her life was, along with Edward’s, when Lord Wynn felt poorly.
“The last person I wish to speak about is my father.” Edward scowled. “Let us wander through the crowd and see if anyone catches your eye.” Yet rather than moving, Edward continued to stare.
James raised a brow. “What?”
“The women will only run if you continue to glower.” Edward nudged him. “Try to look friendlier.”
James showed his teeth in the hope it resembled a smile. “Is that better?”
“Never mind. You’re impossible.” Edward shook his head then led the way farther into the ballroom.
James hoped Edward’s focus shifted to finding the opera singer rather than on him.
In truth, it was best that he didn’t pursue Charlotte. He couldn't imagine how he would tell Edward.
By the by, I find your sister irresistible.
Or I know Charlotte is your sister, but she is also an incredibly desirable woman.
He gave himself a mental shake at his ridiculous thoughts. That would never come to pass, and he should strike it from his mind. How he wished he was different. Better. Whole. He pressed a hand to his chest at the ache of longing the thought brought.
“At least pretend as if you want to be here,” Edward murmured.
James forced himself to look around and find something of interest. He didn't want to ruin Edward’s evening. Nor was remaining home alone an option if he wanted to keep his sanity.
So he sipped his champagne and studied the other guests, noting both the extravagantly dressed ones as well as those attired in a more subdued fashion.
Within minutes Edward had spotted his opera singer and moved in her direction, leaving James alone. He didn’t care to be the third wheel. He found a column to lean against where he was out of the way but could observe the crowd.
He sincerely hoped Edward would be ready to leave soon. A gaming hell sounded much more appealing than this party. At least there he had the chance to win some money. That was now his sole purpose.
He continued to peruse the guests, spotting a few who seemed familiar but given their masks it was difficult to know their identity for certain.
One tall gentleman seemed especially familiar, and he searched his memory for the reason. Lord Palmer. The man he had warned Charlotte about. James watched to see if he had found some other unsuspecting young lady to escort. Several women stood near the lord, talking and laughing. Another lady returned from the dance floor to join them.
Charlotte.
His heart nearly stopped at the sight of her. Though she wore a different mask this time that covered nearly all of her face, he would have known her anywhere. Her green gown with a square neckline made her skin glow. Her hair was plaited and coiled at the base of her graceful neck. She fanned her gloved hand before her face as if she were overly warm, looking beautiful as always.
But she didn’t belong there. Certainly not with Palmer.
He straightened and set aside his drink then started toward her only to halt. How could he question her presence and the company she kept when he had refused to meet her? If he were smart, he would find Edward and tell him.
James hesitated, trying to determine what to do, only to see Palmer take her arm and lead her toward the garden door. Anger coursed through James, and before he realized it, he was wading through the crowd to follow them only to find his way blocked, forcing him to take another route.
He glanced about, almost hoping to see Edward and allow him to deal with the situation. But his friend was nowhere in sight. He watched in disbelief as Palmer and Charlotte passed through the door into the dark night.
Had she gone mad? Did she not realize the possible damage to her reputation by being alone with the man?
~*~
Charlotte waved a gloved hand before her face again, wondering if she was going to faint. Good heavens. She felt light-headed. Considering she’d only had one glass of champagne, she didn’t understand what the problem could be.
She gulped a breath of the cool evening air as she stepped outside. Then another.
“Are you feeling better?” Lord Palmer took her hand.
“A little. My apologies. I’m not certain what came over me.” She drew another breath, tipping her head back to gaze up at the night sky, only to realize doing so caused her head to spin even more.
“Are you certain you only had one glass of champagne?” he asked as his tall form loomed over her.
“Yes. Just the one you handed me.” She hadn’t wanted to endure another day plagued by an aching head such as she had last time so limited herself. “Thank you for escorting me outside.” If he hadn’t, she feared she might’ve c
ollapsed, which would’ve been terribly embarrassing.
Her cheeks were uncomfortably hot and no matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to gain her bearings or her breath.
“The pleasure is mine. I only want you to feel better.”
“I just need another moment.” Though she hoped Lady Barbara would join them, the woman had been oblivious to Charlotte’s discomfort.
“Of course.” Lord Palmer guided her deeper into the garden. “Why don’t we find a bench so you can rest?”
Given the weakness in her legs, Charlotte nodded, thinking that would be a wise notion.
“There’s one just ahead.”
Charlotte peered into the darkness, not seeing anything but bushes. “Are you certain?” She pressed a hand against her stomach, wondering if she was going to be ill.
“Allow me to help you.” Lord Palmer placed his arm around her waist, holding her much too close. The heat of his body was unwelcome, his grip on her waist too tight.
Alarm bells sounded in her head but only served to add to her reeling thoughts. “On second thought, I would prefer to remain by the door.”
“Nonsense,” the lord said as he pulled her forward. “You’ll feel better after you rest.”
Not with him at her side, she knew. She dug in her heels and halted, stepping away from him. “Please stop. Let me be.”
“I’m trying to aid you.” The edge of anger in his tone made her even more uncomfortable.
“How kind of you,” she managed, “but I am already feeling better.” Could he see that she lied? Yet now her heart pounded for an entirely different reason—fear. Especially when he blocked her attempt to return to the door.
“I insist we find a bench.” He reached for her again, grabbing her arm painfully.
She attempted to pull free to no avail. “Release me,” she demanded, but even to her ears, her tone sounded weak. Perhaps because she felt weak. A glance around showed no one nearby. She shouldn’t have come outside without someone else besides Lord Palmer. If only Barbara had accompanied them.
“My dear, there is no need to play coy.” Lord Palmer took off his mask then hers and tossed them aside before taking hold of her waist with both hands. “I sense the attraction between us.”
“No, you don’t.” Charlotte shoved at his hands, trying to gather her thoughts and her strength so she could escape.
“Oh, but I do.” He drew her roughly against his length then wrapped his arms around her. Before she knew what was happening, he leaned close to kiss her.
She turned her head to the side, pushing against his chest. “Let go.” She tried to stomp on his foot but her gown tangled about her legs. Panic clawed at the back of her throat as he kissed her cheek, then the line of her jaw.
“You want this as much as I do. Don’t deny it.”
“No, I do not.” Charlotte struggled harder, but he shifted to pin her arms against her sides. “Stop this at once.”
He only chuckled. “I appreciate your spirit. But Barbara told me you disappeared with Redmond at Vauxhall Gardens. You’ll find me preferable to him. Rumor has it that he’s scared of his own shadow since he left the army.”
“How dare you.” Charlotte silently cursed the lord and his sister. She shouldn’t have come to this party. She never should’ve trusted them. If only James were here. The thought of him brought tears to her eyes.
“Come, my dear. Let me have a taste of you.” He released one of her arms to squeeze her breast painfully and attempt another kiss.
Suddenly she knew what to do. “I’m going to be sick.” She forced herself to stop fighting.
Lord Palmer stilled, his mouth against her cheek. “What did you say?”
“She said she’s going to be sick.” The deep voice was achingly familiar and welcome, even if he did sound angry. “Release her.”
Lord Palmer loosened his hold enough that she managed to turn her head to see James standing nearby. But Palmer didn’t let go. “This is none of your affair, Redmond.”
“I disagree.” James glanced at Charlotte as if to see if she was all right then took another step closer. “The lady asked you to stop. What part of that don’t you understand?”
Lord Palmer chuckled. “It isn’t what you think. She wasn’t feeling well. I’m merely helping her.”
Charlotte shoved at Palmer’s hands again and gained her freedom at last. Relief weakened her already wobbly knees as she took a step closer to James, who reached for her hand and pulled her behind him.
“She would’ve collapsed without my assistance.” Palmer held both hands out, palms up, a smile on his thin lips. “Surely you can see that my intentions were honorable.”
“Liar,” James countered. Before Charlotte realized his intention, he struck Palmer in the jaw, sending him reeling.
Palmer caught his balance and placed a hand to his face. “Damn you, Redmond. You’re going to pay for that.”
“How so?” James took a step closer, his hands at his sides as if to encourage him to strike back. Palmer was taller but there was no doubt in her mind that James would easily defeat him. Yet still, a shiver of fear ran through her as she watched the two men eyeing each other.
Palmer lunged forward, reaching for James. James shoved aside his hands then landed another blow into Palmer’s ribs. The man fell to his knees, holding his side as he moaned.
“James?” Charlotte placed a hand on his arm, shocked at how rigid he felt, a testament to the extent of his rage.
“The next time I hear of you attempting to force Lady Charlotte or any woman to do anything, you won’t live to see the end of the day. Do I make myself clear?”
“You bastard,” Palmer managed from his position on the ground. “This isn’t over.”
“Actually, it is.” James reached out a foot and shoved Palmer’s hip, toppling him over. The crunching of glass sounded, and James bent down to pull aside Palmer’s suit coat. “What is this?” He lifted a bottle from the inside pocket toward the light to better see it.
“Laudanum,” Charlotte murmured, recognizing the bottle as it was the same one that sat on her mother’s bedside table. “Why do you have that?” She gasped as outrage filled her. “Did you put that in my champagne?” No wonder she’d felt so strange.
“You don’t understand,” Palmer insisted.
James jerked the man upright by his lapels and struck him again.
Palmer groaned in response, his head listing to one side as James gripped him.
“James, please.” She truly felt as if she were going to be ill after learning what Palmer had done. She only wanted to leave.
“Do not ever touch her again.” He shook the tall man. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” Palmer gritted out.
“Now leave through the garden before I drag you inside and tell everyone how worthless you are.” James shoved him into the bushes where Palmer remained for a moment before at last finding his feet and staggering into the darkness.
Charlotte pressed a shaking hand over her mouth, hardly able to believe what had occurred. She never wanted to see Lord Palmer again.
“Charlotte?” James’ quiet voice at her side was a welcome invitation.
She moved into his open arms. He held her tight, his warm embrace the perfect comfort only he could provide. His woodsy scent grounding her, easing her upset, righting her world.
“Are you all right?” he asked after a moment.
She nodded, keeping her face buried in the solidness of his shoulder. “Thank goodness you came along when you did.” She shivered at the thought of what might have happened otherwise.
“I’m pleased I did. Your threat to be ill might’ve been quite effective in stopping him.”
Charlotte managed a smile as she sniffed. “I will keep that in mind, though I hope never to find myself in this sort of situation again.” She leaned back to look at him, drinking in the sight of him in the dim light. “I’m not certain I could
make myself ill on purpose.”
“We’ll hope you never have to try.” With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Why did you come outside with him of all people?”
“I told his sister I wasn’t feeling well, and I thought she was coming as well.” She shook her head, still unsteady. “I suppose I should tell her that her brother won’t be returning. Oh, but my mask is back there.” She gestured toward the path they’d left.
“You won’t need it,” James said, tightening his hold on her waist. “You’re not going back in there.”
“But Lady Barbara—”
“Will have to find her own way home. That’s the price she can pay for the part she played in the deception.” He shook his head, his disgust obvious.
Charlotte bit her lip as another concern dawned. “Is Edward here?”
“Yes, but he was otherwise engaged when I last saw him.” He pulled his mask from his pocket. “You can wear this just to be certain you’re not recognized. We’ll leave through the garden to the street and find a hackney.”
Within moments, they were walking along the street toward the nearest cab stand. Charlotte looked about with trepidation, hoping they didn’t see Lord Palmer.
“What are you searching for?” James asked as he tucked her hand more firmly in the crook of his elbow.
“If Lord Palmer—”
“Do not mention his name.” But he glanced about as well. “He will have disappeared if he’s wise.”
“No doubt you’re right. Your message to him was clear.” She matched her steps to his as they rounded a corner, her hurt welling to the surface. “Your message to me was certainly clear.”
He paused mid-stride and turned to face her. “Charlotte.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you shouldn’t have come this evening. Terrible things can happen at parties such as this to women like you.” He brushed the pad of his thumb along her cheek and the urge to lean into his touch nearly overcame her.
“Women like me?” she whispered.
“Beautiful innocents who need to worry about their reputations.”
To Dare a Rogue Page 14