He seemed to have to remind everyone of his position, at every turn.
Lord Ambrose’s lips twitched into a broader smile at the show, and Eric could only feel incensed. “It’s not in your place,” he told the chief investigator of the doctor’s case, “to tell me, a duke, what to do. I only hope that you do remember that. Marquess.”
This time, Lord Ambrose’s face twisted into one of disgust. He headed towards the door. “As you like it, Duke Cumberland,” he said with mock deference. “I do believe that you will realize your mistake in supporting this man when he hangs, however.”
He left before Eric could say anything else in response.
The young duke felt his hands clench into fists at his sides. His blood was nigh boiling with fury. The arrogance of Lord Ambrose!
He acted as though he had already made up his mind against the doctor, and as though he would rather condemn the man to death than hear the real truth of what had happened. Where was the justice in that?
One thing was for sure: Eric knew that he couldn’t leave the doctor to a fate like that if the man was truly innocent. Not least of which because his daughter’s heart was involved in the matter.
It would kill Charlene if her father was sentenced to hanging. She had been emotional enough just to see the man in prison. She had such a sweet temperament, and she truly believed that the system would come through and find her father innocent, if he was innocent.
He was innocent. The more certain that Lord Ambrose seemed to want to convict the man, the more certain Eric was that he needed to find some way to prove it.
He thought back again to that kiss that he and Charlene had shared in the carriage on the way back to her aunt’s home.
Those kisses, in fact. There had been more than one, although they had stopped before there had been more than kissing.
Eric wondered, however, if they truly would have stopped if it hadn’t been for their arrival at Charlene’s home, at the most inopportune of moments.
Would she have allowed him to take things further? She had said that she had been thinking about him, all of these years. She must have been thinking about that kiss.
What’s more, she had kissed him again with a passion that had surprised him.
Oh, she was inexperienced; that much was obvious. Eric had had to tilt her head to the side to improve the angle. Her lips had been clumsy against his. But he would rather a thousand inexperienced kisses from her than…
Well. The trouble was, Charlene didn’t seem wholly interested. She had been thinking about him all of these years, but she had never once written to him. She kissed him now, and then ran away before there could be anything more than a couple kisses.
Eric supposed that he couldn’t blame her. After all, the only reason that she could be unmarried at her age was that she wasn’t interested in being married.
Eric was certain of that. The woman was too attractive to be unmarried otherwise. And why else would she hold back on her reasons for remaining unmarried, than if she had something embarrassing to confess about how she wasn’t interested in being married?
She might not have a high standing in society, but it was high enough that there were plenty of men who would be interested in her. She was beautiful, with good curves, from a family who, while not wealthy, were able to provide for a dowry.
Besides, not everyone was worried about marrying for standing at this point. Eric knew that he wasn’t.
As much as he knew that Annabelle’s dowry was certainly desirable, as were her connections, he couldn’t help but think that he was settled enough into his position that all he really wanted was a beautiful woman whom his tenants could speak with while he was off in other parts of the realm.
No, she must simply not want to be married. She must simply not want him.
But Eric couldn’t stop thinking about those kisses, and he knew in his heart that he couldn’t bear to let her down when it came to her father. No, the young duke had to find some way to prove Dr. Ellington’s innocence. He just had to.
Chapter 11
Miss Charlene Ellington
Charlene was midway through composing a letter thanking Eric for bringing her to see her father when there was yet another visitor at her aunt’s home.
She set aside the letter, then on second thought put it away in one of the drawers of her desk, locking it with a small key. It wouldn’t do for someone to see the draft.
She hadn’t told her aunt about the visit, and she was sure that Helene would have words to say about Charlene going off in a carriage alone with a young bachelor. The last thing the family needed at the moment was another scandal to tarnish their reputation.
If Helene only knew what had transpired on the carriage ride back from Newgate! But that was a secret that Charlene would take with her to the grave.
Charlene entered the sitting room, looking between her aunt and the unfamiliar, well-dressed man standing there. “Miss Ellington,” he greeted her warmly. “I am Lord Ambrose Dubois Johnson, Marquess of Wesborough. I am the head investigator on your father’s case.”
“Oh!” Charlene said in surprise. Was the Marquess here with good tidings or bad? What Charlene would give to know! Not that she could be so bold as to ask him. All in good time. She seated herself beside her aunt and accepted the cup of tea that she was handed.
Across from her, Lord Ambrose seated himself, his eyes still on Charlene. There was something in his gaze that made Charlene uncomfortable, but she dismissed it as her overactive nerves.
No doubt the man was only continuing to stare at her because he expected her to come up with some sort of response to the fact that he was here.
Suddenly, Charlene felt a flash of horror. Did the Marquess know about her visit to Newgate with Eric? Would he mention something about the visit in front of her aunt?
Helene would never forgive her if she was caught out as a fool in front of the investigator. But it was too late to say anything in private now.
Charlene fixed a smile on her face. “I hope that it is good news that you’ve brought with regards to my father’s case,” she said.
Lord Ambrose grimaced, the expression creasing his greasy face. “Unfortunately, all of the evidence seems to be against your father,” he said.
“We have letters from the apothecary’s assistant saying that your father not only asked for medicine to treat a stomach malady but that he signed off on the medicines to be the correct ones that he wished for. Yet your father’s records, and Lord Henrich’s servants, all say that the man was diagnosed with gout.”
He cleared his throat delicately. “And of course, the medical colleges have sworn that the medicine that Lord Henrich was given was of exceptionally strong nature. It’s no wonder the man’s spleen burst, causing his untimely death.”
Charlene shook her head, willing herself not to hear the news. “But he’s innocent, I know he must be. There must have been some foul play. My father would never have knowingly given the man the wrong medicine. What would his motive have been?”
“There are plenty of reasons why Lord Henrich’s death may have benefitted your father,” Lord Ambrose said, and even though Charlene realized that the man was trying to sound saddened by the news, he was still looking at her with those dark, piercing eyes.
Something about his demeanour made Charlene sure that the man didn’t care a whit for her father. That perhaps he would be happy to send the man to the gallows.
Meanwhile, the man was droning on about the various ways that the doctor might have benefitted from the Lord’s death.
“Perhaps someone paid him a handsome sum to make it look like an accident,” the Marquess said. “Or there could have been an entirely personal motivation. It looks like Lord Henrich had come to your father a number of times before with various ailments and not always paid his bill accordingly.”
“My father would never make an enemy of a man over something like that,” Charlene interrupted, scandalized. “My father is one of the
calmest, most rational people that I know. He doesn’t have quarrels with anyone.”
“Perhaps your father was simply done with this mistreatment of his practice,” was all the investigator had to say.
It made Charlene angry to realize that the investigator wasn’t giving her father the benefit of the doubt. From the sounds of things, he wasn’t even trying to clear the doctor.
How could a man like that, a man who cared nothing of innocence, be the chief investigator on such an important case?
Charlene wanted to shout at him, but she knew she had to hold her temper. She glanced over at her aunt, trying to soak in some of the woman’s calmness.
Finally, she looked back at the investigator. “My father is innocent,” she said one more time, clearly. “I suggest that you look into the possibility that someone has framed him.”
Lord Ambrose raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought you said your father didn’t have quarrels with anyone,” he said slyly. He continued before she could backtrack. “Any idea who might have done such a thing?”
“No,” Charlene admitted, looking down at her hands and feeling foolish for having said anything. What did she know? And yet, she was absolutely certain that her father was innocent.
The Marquess lingered there for another moment, his eyes on Charlene again. She felt that same curious sensation as before, like maybe she was a bug trapped beneath his gaze.
Better beneath his gaze than beneath his heel, but Charlene realized her situation was a little bit of both. He held her father’s life in his hands, and he didn’t seem to care.
Lord Ambrose finally stood up. “I’ll let you know as I learn any new information,” he said, nodding to the women. “Thank you for your time, and for the tea, Lady Helene. Miss Ellington.”
He headed towards the door, his boots thumping noisily on the floor as he went. Like an elephant, Charlene thought. A heavy, greasy, old elephant.
Aunt Helene started to cry. “My poor brother,” she said.
Charlene knew that she couldn’t just let the Marquess leave like that. She had to make sure he knew that the case wasn’t closed yet. That they were going to find some way to prove her father’s innocence. The investigator couldn’t send her father to the gallows just yet.
She caught up with the man in the foyer as he was donning his coat. “Lord Ambrose, please,” she said. “There must be something that we can do to prove my father’s innocence.”
The Marquess shook his head. “My dear, I’m afraid that that is looking more and more impossible by the day,” he said. “As I said before, the case against your father is strong.”
He paused. “However, there might be something that you can do to save the man. Not his reputation, but at least his life.”
Charlene was immediately suspicious. As much as she wanted to cling to hope that there was something that she could do to save her father, there was something in the Marquess’ expression that gave her pause. He looked entirely too gleeful.
“What is it?” she asked cautiously.
“Agree to be betrothed to me,” the Marquess said simply. “If you do so, I will have your father’s name cleared. If not… Well, I’m afraid that if not, your father will be hanged.”
Charlene felt revulsion roil in her belly. Marry him? The man was nearly two decades her senior, and while he might once have been an attractive figure, the years hadn’t been kind to him.
Then again, he was a Marquess with many rich holdings. Marrying him would help her family in a number of ways.
Yet Charlene couldn’t imagine herself shackled to such a man. He would expect her to be the perfect wife, a trophy that he could display at social gatherings. And he would want to bed her.
Charlene knew enough about men to know that this man would not be gentle with her. There were whispers as to why his first wife had died, and they had nothing to do with childbirth as the official report had stated.
He wouldn’t be like Eric, his lips passionate and inquisitive, stirring a fire in her core.
“I will need time to think it over,” Charlene said in a quavering voice. She didn’t want to marry this hideous and vile man. Yet her sense of loyalty was waging war against her sensibilities.
She knew in her heart that her father was innocent, but the cards seemed to be stacked against him.
If she told the Marquess no, there was the distinct possibility that no matter what evidence she and Eric were able to bring forth to prove her father’s innocence, the Marquess would delight in sending the man to the gallows.
Charlene couldn’t let that happen. At the same time, she couldn’t picture a life with the Marquess.
Still, Charlene could tell that her words, her request for time, had already made the Marquess angry. What, had he expected that she would fall all over herself agreeing to his proposal?
She hurriedly tried to cover up her disgust, however, feigning shyness.
“This is quite a shock to me,” she told him. “I’m beyond my courting days, you see, and I had quite given up hope that any man would ever wish to have me. And with all that’s going on with my father at the moment, my emotions are all over the place.
“Please, allow me some time to think it over. So that I may be sure that I could be a perfect wife for you.”
The Marquess’ eyes softened slightly, just as she had hoped. She breathed an internal sigh of relief, even though she knew she wasn’t out of the fire yet.
“There’s a limit to how much time I may give you,” the Marquess reminded her. “If you delay too long and more evidence mounts against your father, there’s a possibility that the magistrate won’t listen to me. Even if we guarantee that your father never practice medicine again.”
He paused. “As you know, there are many people wanting justice done for Lord Henrich. It’s only a matter of time before the desire for revenge becomes too strong to ignore.”
Charlene nodded her head. “I will let you know as soon as I might,” she said. She fought to hide her shudder of revulsion when the Marquess took her hand in his.
Although she wasn’t fully successful, she imagined that from the sudden grin on the Marquess’ face, he thought it was out of excitement rather than extreme disgust.
“I will return to visit you soon,” he promised her. “My darling.” With that, he turned and left. Charlene sank to her knees, pressing her hands together as she stared blindly at the closed door.
Chapter 12
Lord Eric Cumberland, Duke of Havenport
Eric couldn’t help but feel surprised when he was informed that Charlene was there in his receiving room, hoping to see him. Truth to tell, he hadn’t expected her to seek him out, not after the scene in the carriage on the way back from Newgate.
Oh, he knew that she wasn’t some shy and blushing chit who would be too nervous to find him. There was a certain fire in the woman. She spoke her mind, and she was headstrong and sure.
Still, he kept thinking about those unanswered letters of his. Sure, she might have allowed him to kiss her the other day, but that didn’t mean that she was interested in anything more.
She merely needed his help with her father’s case, and she was using her sex to win him over.
She needn’t have done that. He only hoped that she realized that he would have helped her, kisses or no. That said, his body ached for the possibility of more.
It had been more than once this week that he had awoken hard and aching, reaching for the dream of her that existed only in his mind. There was a part of him that felt foolish for it. He should have been chasing Lady Annabelle or one of the other women who befit his social stature.
But love knew no rules.
Eric entered the sitting room, sweeping a critical eye over Charlene. She looked tired, although she had tried to hide it. Her hair was just not-quite perfect, and her dress hung slightly loose on her frame.
Her eyes were troubled. But she smiled tentatively when she saw him, getting to her feet.
“It’s go
od to see you,” she sighed, stepping forwards and embracing him. There was no hesitation there, and it warmed something inside of Eric. Perhaps she hadn’t been merely kissing him because she thought that was the way to win his help.
“Is everything all right?” Eric asked into her hair.
Charlene nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, more or less,” she said, twisting her face up to see him. “I don’t have any news about Father, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just had to see you.” She paused, looking suddenly uncertain. “Is that all right?”
Eric kissed her gently, unable to stop himself from leaning down to taste those lovely pink lips of hers. He pulled her body flush against his, stroking a hand down her side and feeling the way that she shivered with desire.
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