A Touch of Temptation: House of Devon Book 2

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “What is this meeting for?”

  Delilah sighed and then looked around furtively, as though someone was going to hear her.

  “Fine,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “Something has gone missing. It must be of great value. They wish to speak to you about it.”

  “To me?” Charlotte said, her heart pounding. “But—”

  “You best focus on coming quickly,” Delilah said, and Charlotte nodded in understanding as she finished dressing and crossed to the corner to splash cold water on her face.

  “Ready,” she said, and Delilah nodded before the two of them hurried downstairs, their footsteps so quick that they were nearly as fast as Charlotte’s heartbeat.

  Right before they entered, Delilah squeezed Charlotte’s hand in solidarity.

  “Charlotte.”

  The duke and the duchess were standing at the other end of the room, and when the door shut behind her, Charlotte turned to find Reeves standing there, just inside the door, a pained expression on his face. Delilah had taken her place beside him, her head tilted down at her intertwined fingers.

  “We are not happy to be meeting with you like this,” the duke said, “but it has come to our attention that the duchess’ brooch has gone missing.”

  “Your brooch?” Charlotte knew just which one they must be referring to. The duchess constantly wore it, and while Charlotte knew it didn’t hold much value, it had belonged to the duchess’ mother and meant much to her. “I am so sorry, your grace,” she said. “I do hope it is found quickly.”

  The duchess nodded slowly as she assessed Charlotte.

  “Charlotte,” she said, her voice gentle. “You have been with us for nearly your entire life, and your parents were as loyal as we could ever ask servants to be. I do not want to believe the tale that has been woven, but it is difficult not to know how else this could have happened.”

  “I-I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” Charlotte said, looked furtively between them all staring at her.

  “You were seen entering the family apartments early yesterday evening – alone.”

  “And we cannot find any servant that can confirm that you were anywhere else at the time,” Delilah added forlornly from the doorway. Charlotte attempted a small smile of thanks.

  Her thoughts raced at their words, trying to understand what they were implying, until a thought struck her.

  “Stuart asked me to go to the family apartments yesterday,” she said, her words coming quickly as she realized now was the time to defend herself. “No one was there when I arrived except…”

  Except Philip and Lily. But how would she ever explain that she had seen them, but she hadn’t said anything because she hadn’t wanted to look the fool?

  “Except…” the duchess said gently.

  “Lily was there, within your chambers,” she said, and the duke and duchess exchanged a glance which Charlotte was unsure of how to interpret. “Philip was with her, but simply helping her with something for a moment.” Or so Charlotte hoped. For anything else was nearly unbearable to consider.

  “We will consider all of this,” the duke said gravely, and Charlotte swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that filled her eyes. “Reeves,” he called out beyond her shoulder, “can you please summon Philip?”

  “Of course, your grace,” Reeves said.

  Oh, please, Philip, Charlotte thought, help me out of this.

  Chapter 10

  Philip was more confused than anything.

  Last night, Lily really hadn’t needed his help in the duchess’ chambers. Why she had asked him to accompany her, he had no idea, but the attention was flattering. Not that he had any intention on acting on it. He had helped her with the bathtub and then sought out Charlotte, surprised to find she had retired for the night without even stopping for supper. He hoped she was well, but he couldn’t have visited her at night in the women’s quarters.

  He whistled a tune as he thought of her before coming to a halt inside a rather empty kitchen.

  “Where in the—” he muttered, looking around, when Reeves suddenly appeared in the doorway on the other side of the room.

  “Webster, there you are,” Reeves said, gesturing for him to come along. “You are needed immediately.”

  Confused, Philip began to follow him.

  “You too, Wright,” Reeves said as they walked through the next room and saw the new footman standing by the table as though waiting for his opportunity to serve. Stuart nodded, but his smile troubled Philip. It seemed as though the footman knew something Philip didn’t, and it quite disconcerted him.

  They began following the butler, Philip feeling as though they were naughty children about to be taken to task.

  His concerns heightened the moment he entered the duke’s study and saw Charlotte standing in the middle of the room. Her cheeks were flushed, but not in the healthy way he always admired. They were a deep, mottled red, one that was both shamed and angry, and her lashes kept her eyes shuttered. She flicked them up for a moment to look at him, but he had no time to even offer an encouraging smile before she was closed off to him once more.

  What had he done? He wondered.

  But it seemed the answer to that question would have to wait. Philip quickly realized that currently the matter had nothing to do with what he had or had not done, but rather Charlotte.

  “Philip,” the duke said, capturing his attention, and Philip looked up.

  “Yes, your grace?”

  “I must ask you, were you in the family’s quarters last evening?”

  Philip started.

  “Ah… yes, my grace. As it happens—”

  But the duke didn’t seem to care about why he was there.

  “Were you with Charlotte?”

  Oh bollocks. That’s what this was about, he realized, stealing a glance over at Charlotte, who still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Were you alone?”

  “No,” Philip said, understanding dawning on him.

  “Charlotte believes that Lily might have had reason to steal a brooch from her grace, but we don’t believe that she would have had the opportunity,” the duke said, his explanation all fact. “My wife saw the brooch in her jewelry box before she came down for supper. She wears it nearly every night, and when she realized she had forgotten it, she returned to her chamber to locate it. The brooch, however, was gone.”

  “In that short time period only three people were seen entering the family’s quarters. Charlotte went in alone, while you entered with Lily. So, Philip,” the duke implored him, “can you please explain just what happened?”

  Philip swallowed hard. He wished he could say he had been with Charlotte the entire time. There was, for a moment, a war within his mind on what he should say – should he tell them that he was with Charlotte and help ease the suspicion upon her, or would lying just exacerbate the situation?

  Looking around the room at all of them, he finally decided that all he could really do was tell the truth. A lie would likely only make things worse for both him and Charlotte.

  “I had to accompany Lily upstairs, yes,” he said, willing Charlotte to look at him, but she refused. “She said the bathtub needed to be emptied and that there were no maids around to help and all of the footmen would soon be preoccupied with dinner. When we went upstairs, however, there was no water remaining. It must have been emptied while Lily was trying to find me. When we came upstairs, all of those maids were gone.”

  “Did you see Charlotte?” the duke asked.

  Philip swallowed hard.

  “No,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

  “Very well,” the duke said, “that will be all.”

  Philip longed to stay, but once the duke dismissed him, what more could he do? He paused just outside the doorway to listen to the end of the conversation.

  “Charlotte,” the duchess said, her voice not unkind. “If you could just return the brooch and explain why you’ve had to do this, then we can put thi
s all behind us. I know there must be a reason.”

  There was a pause before Charlotte responded, the break in her voice causing Philip’s heart to follow suit.

  “I am sorry, your grace, but I do not have the brooch.”

  “Charlotte.” It was the duke now. “We will have to ask you to leave – for a time. Perhaps you could stay with your parents until we determine what has occurred here.”

  Charlotte said nothing in response, and Philip pictured her attempting to gather her composure. She would not want to shed tears in front of anyone.

  “Very well,” he finally heard her say softly, and he darted around the corner before the rest of them emerged.

  It wasn’t long before Charlotte came nearly running from the room, and he was there to catch her in his arms when she did.

  “Charlotte,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I—”

  But she would take none of his comfort this time. She pushed him away, fighting like a wildcat to get out of his arms.

  “Leave me be, Philip.”

  “But Charlotte—”

  She shook her head. “You said you would help me,” she said, tears glistening in her eyes. “But all you have done is made it worse.”

  “I know, Lottie, I know. I couldn’t lie, though.”

  “I didn’t want you to,” she said with despair. “But nor did I want to see you and Lily together in the duchess’ chamber.”

  “You were there?”

  She nodded as a tear began to fall.

  “Charlotte, I wasn’t doing anything—”

  “I know,” she said, her voice breaking as she wiped away the tears that were beginning to fall in earnest now. “I know you weren’t. But you also couldn’t resist when a beautiful woman asked for your help, could you?”

  Philip was silent, knowing that her words were true, though they sent a dagger through his heart.

  “I know you thought you were being honest when you told me that you wanted to marry me, Philip,” she continued. “I do not doubt that you care for me. But I wonder if you actually want to be married? Are you willing to give up all of those flirtations, the women who might turn your head?”

  “I would never—”

  “You would never act on it, I know. But the teasing, the flirting – could you give that up?”

  She had a point. He hadn’t even thought of it. He had reacted as he always had. He knew he would never have actually done anything with Lily, but he hadn’t stopped to consider how Charlotte would feel. He thought about what he would do if he saw her in the same scenario with another of the servants – such as Stuart – and he was instantly filled with rage.

  “I’m sorry, Charlotte, I am,” he said earnestly. “I can do better, I promise.”

  But she was already shaking her head, and a ball of unease began to grow from the pit of his stomach.

  “We cannot go forward, Philip, we simply cannot. I am not even part of this household anymore, and I would never ask you to leave your position.”

  “I can find another—”

  She held up a hand. “Perhaps, but likely not as valet, and not to your best friend.”

  She clearly knew him better than most. No one else was aware that the reason why he so enjoyed his position, and that it would tear him apart to leave, was because of his loyalty to Lord William.

  “I can’t ask you to leave everything for me, especially when you may find that you don’t much enjoy marriage. I’m not sure—” her voice caught, “I’m not sure that you’re quite ready to be married, Philip. Perhaps… perhaps one day.”

  “Charlotte,” he reached out to her, intending to take her in his arms, but she stepped back away from him.

  “I’m leaving now, Philip. Please don’t follow me.”

  And with that, she turned and ran from him. Philip hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to take off after her, but was stopped when Reeves stepped up next to him.

  “Webster,” he said in his gravelly voice, and Philip shot him a look of approach. He knew this wasn’t the butler’s fault, and yet the man certainly hadn’t been much help. “We will do all we can to help Charlotte, I promise you that.”

  Philip looked over at him in surprise. “Thank you.”

  The man nodded slowly. “I feel as though an injustice has been done here, and we must all determine just what it is. We will bring back Charlotte, Webster. It’s just a matter of time and might require some ingenuity.”

  “Thank you, Reeves,” Philip said, taking a deep breath, relieved to know that he wasn’t alone in his quest. And then there was Lord William, who had promised to do what he could. He had not been particularly helpful to this point, but Philip believed he had meant what he said.

  One thing he knew for sure, was that despite Charlotte’s accusations otherwise, he was ready to be married – as long as it was to her. He loved her, and he would not let her go as easily as she seemed to think he could.

  “I have my suspicions,” Philip said to Reeves, who stood with his hands behind his back, his mind obviously working, “and I also have an idea.”

  Chapter 11

  Charlotte’s parents were not exactly thrilled at her arrival once they learned why she was there. They were understanding, to a point, but they also seemed quite concerned.

  “I cannot believe that the duke and duchess would turn you out,” her mother huffed, pacing a tight circle around the main room of the small cottage she and her husband shared at the outskirts of the nearby village. “After all of the service that we gave to them, for so many years—”

  “They had to, Mother,” Charlotte said from her seat in the chair in the corner, throwing up her hands. “What else were they to do?”

  “Believe you,” her mother said with a huff. “What did Marion have to say?”

  Charlotte thought back to Philip’s mother, who had helped her pack with tears in her eyes as she had admonished herself for allowing this to happen when she was supposed to have been looking after Charlotte.

  “She had the same thoughts as you,” Charlotte said with a sigh. “And she blamed herself. But there was nothing she could have done to prevent this.”

  Thank goodness Charlotte hadn’t had the opportunity to tell them about her engagement to Philip – the shortest engagement she had ever heard of before. Then her mother would truly be thrown into hysterics.

  “What are you going to do now?” her father asked from the corner. A former coachman, he approached everything with a calm manner that offset his wife’s tendency to become rather too excited.

  “I’m going to look for other work, I suppose,” Charlotte said with a shrug. “The duke and duchess said that if they are able to determine that I was not at fault, they would hire me back, but I fear that might never occur. Best to move on.” What she didn’t tell them was that it wasn’t only her job as maid at the Hartland Abby from which she had to move on. It was Philip.

  She said goodnight to her parents, telling them she was tired and wanted to turn in early for the night.

  The truth was, she couldn’t sit there and speak to them of it any longer. It was too fresh, too raw, the pain still hurting like a wound that had yet to scab over.

  Philip had let her go. Yes, she had told him to leave her be, but the truth was that she had been waiting for him to come after her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right, that he would do anything to be with her, that he still wanted to marry her no matter what else should occur.

  But he hadn’t.

  And it was her own fault. He had listened to her. She had been so hurt by all that had occurred that she had lashed out at him, and look where she was now. Alone. With no position and no way to support herself. There was barely room for her here, in her parents’ small cottage. All there was to sleep on was a mattress in a closet, and while she was practically suffocating in there, she didn’t think she could continue to listen to her mother dissecting the circumstances, even though Charlotte knew she was only looking out for her.


  She threw herself back on the cot, wincing when a piece of straw dug into her back. She was missing her narrow cot in the attic at Hartford.

  Sleep was evasive, but when it took her, it was full of dreams of another time, another night, another bed.

  Oh, Philip. He had been her best friend. Now it could never be the same again. How had she allowed this to happen?

  Because, she realized, throwing an arm over her forehead.

  She was in love.

  * * *

  The next morning at breakfast, Charlotte’s mother was already listing all of the estates nearby that she should attempt to get on with.

  “They don’t deserve you at Hartland Abby,” she said with a sniff, but Charlotte sighed.

  “It wasn’t their fault at all, Mother,” she said. “In fact, I believe they wanted to keep me on but all of the evidence was stacked against me. Someone was setting me up.”

  Another voice filled the air. “Which is exactly what we’re going to prove.”

  “Philip!”

  Charlotte started at his voice, her chair falling over behind her in her haste to stand. There he was in the doorway, the sun rising from the east behind him and casting a glow around him that made him seem like a warrior here to rescue her.

  Except that there was nothing to rescue her from, and there was nothing he could do. In fact, he was part of the very reason she was running.

  Her mother, of course, didn’t know any of that, and was already up and embracing him in the doorway.

  “Philip, my boy, how are you? It has been so long.”

  “I am fine, Mrs. Hudson – or, at least I will be, once we get this all cleared up.”

  “It is ridiculous,” Charlotte’s mother said as she led Philip in to take her own seat at the table. He tried to decline, but she insisted. Charlotte’s father raised his hand from a chair in the corner in greeting.

  “It is,” Philip agreed, but then looked over at Charlotte. His eyes seemed to hold more in them than his words actually said. More… promise, perhaps? Hope? She had to speculate, as she knew he wasn’t going to say anything here in front of her parents. “Charlotte, we have a plan.”