‘They are, thank you.’ For once he was grateful for the Duchess’s presence so that he didn’t make a fool out of himself by continuing to offer Charlotte some convoluted explanation as to why he had suddenly left without a word to her. There was no reasonable explanation.
‘Then it wasn’t an illness in your family that called you home so urgently,’ Charlotte asked with an arched brow.
‘No. There was an urgent business matter that needed my attention,’ he replied, falling back on the vague excuse he used whenever he needed to leave somewhere because he was called away on some mission to protect the Crown.
‘It must have been very urgent,’ Charlotte said, ‘for you to leave so quickly.’
‘It was.’
‘And what kind of business are you involved in, Lord Andrew?’ she asked. ‘Younger sons are typically military men or clergymen. But you are neither. To my knowledge, you never served our country. Pray tell, how does a man who has not chosen to sacrifice himself for his country spend his time, my lord?’
Oh, she wasn’t pleased with him. That sharp comment served a direct hit.
The Duchess of Skeffington came to his defence before he had the chance to respond. ‘Lord Andrew is involved in a number of establishments here in London. His investments have made it possible for men to open businesses here and provide for their families. Not everyone needs to sacrifice themselves on the battlefield to improve society.’
The Duchess made his ability to throw capital at a number of men sound almost heroic. From the expression on Charlotte’s face, she did not believe the actions were comparable. What would she think if she knew he frequently put his life in danger?
‘Well, we would hate to think we were keeping you from your business now,’ Charlotte said.
In her eyes, he could read what she probably wanted to say. Scuttle along. My sister may find you an honourable man, but I do not.
Acid burned in his gut.
He adjusted the brim of his hat, still astonished that he was standing beside Charlotte. The noise of the carriages and carts along the cobblestoned street was mixed with the voices of the people moving past them. Most everyone seemed to be in a hurry. And his head was telling him to flee as well—just leave and forget he had ever spoken to her.
But his legs wouldn’t move.
The Duchess placed her gloved hand on Charlotte’s sleeve, preventing her sister from turning away. ‘I assume you are coming from Jackson’s, Lord Andrew. I have heard how much you enjoy boxing. May we give you a ride to your destination? My carriage is just over there.’ She gestured to the highly polished black barouche with the Skeffington crest on the door that had pulled up a few feet away.
Being in the closed confines of a carriage with Charlotte was the last thing he needed at the moment. ‘Thank you, but my home is a short walk from here.’
The bright smile on her face slipped before it was back again, giving her an almost childlike enthusiasm. ‘Do give my best to your family.’
He glanced at Charlotte, who it appeared was finding the hats in the shop window much more interesting than their current conversation. It was just as well he would be home soon. All that time in the ring this morning was for nothing. The muscles in his neck and shoulders were stiff. A good hot bath would help ease the pain.
Pasting on a polite smile, he addressed the Duchess, since she was the only one who appeared interested in anything he had to say. ‘I will give them your best, Your Grace,’ he replied with a tip of his hat. ‘Ladies, I bid you a good day.’
‘Good day, Lord Andrew,’ the Duchess said, lowering her chin in a coy manner.
Charlotte continued to study the shop window, but managed to grace him with the lift of her hand over her shoulder in a parting gesture. He would hate for her to strain herself by turning around to face him and say a proper goodbye.
With a clipped motion, he stormed around them and down Bond Street. The sound of his boots hitting the pavement mixed with the sounds of the street around him.
* * *
Charlotte waited until she could no longer see Andrew’s reflection in the shop window before she turned around. Summoning up all her determination, she refused to watch him make his way through the crowd of people.
‘Well, that was unexpected,’ Lizzy said from beside her as she adjusted her bonnet with a smile so wide it would be a miracle if her face didn’t hurt for a week.
Unexpected was an understatement. Seeing Andrew was so unexpected, it had practically brought Charlotte to her knees. She was aware he lived in London, but London was a very big city—surely big enough that she would never run into him. She should never have agreed to come to Town to visit Lizzy. Her sister would not have been surprised if she had declined the invitation.
Lizzy had written to her and asked her to come to Town because Skeffington’s heir had been found. It might be weeks before he finally reached London, but she wanted Charlotte with her when she met him for the first time. Lizzy appeared to the world to be self-assured, but Charlotte knew her sister was afraid the new Duke would be as horrid as the old and she knew he could make her life difficult if he so chose. Lizzy needed her. She could not say no. Their father had signed away Lizzy to a decrepit duke for his own gains. Lizzy had no protector. She never had. Charlotte felt she should be there to look out for her now.
‘Why did you not tell me you had met Winterbourne’s brother?’
‘Because I have not.’
‘Yes, you have. Lord Andrew is the Duke of Winterbourne’s brother.’
Oh, dear God, no! Andrew was the man Lizzy had been pining for since she was seventeen? Suddenly the ground did not feel as solid as it had a few moments before.
‘Charlotte, what is wrong?’ Lizzy asked with concern in her voice. ‘When you said you needed to step outside for some air, I thought you were weary of waiting for me and were offering an excuse. But you truly are unwell. Come, let’s get you into the carriage and you can sit. It was unfair of me to prolong our conversation with Lord Andrew, but I’ve never witnessed him so agreeable.’ She took Charlotte by the elbow and walked slowly with her to the carriage. ‘Do take care assisting her ladyship,’ she instructed her footman as he lowered the carriage step for them.
As they settled on to the velvet cushions, Lizzy opened one of the windows. ‘Perhaps some air from the moving carriage might help.’
Nothing was going to help. Her stomach rolled and she moved her body closer to the open window. In the event she would be sick, at least she could lean out of her sister’s expensive carriage.
‘You truly look green, Charlotte. If I knew you were feeling this poorly, we would have left right away. Instead you let me continue with my fitting while you silently suffered outside.’
Silently suffering was exactly what Charlotte was doing at the moment and it had little to do with her unsettled stomach. She rubbed her fingers against her eyelids. Dear God, not only had she let herself get carried away by her passions with a man she barely knew—she’d had sex with the only man her sister had ever wanted! She was the most horrid person in England!
Lizzy reached across the carriage and took one of Charlotte’s hands. ‘I assure you my house is not far, but should you think it best to stop the carriage, I can have my driver stop and we could just sit in here until you are feeling better.’
Better? Better? She was never going to feel better. From this day forward she would feel like the wretch she was. She couldn’t look at her sister. She would never be able to look Lizzy in the eyes again. ‘I think it best if we continue on to your home without stopping.’ The sooner they arrived at Lizzy’s house, the sooner she could hide in her room. Then she would make arrangements to return to her home immediately without having to look at Lizzy again.
‘You are certain?’
Charlotte nodded, pressing her fingers harder into her eyelids. ‘I will be fine.�
�� Not even if she scrubbed herself with soap fifty times would she feel the slightest bit better.
She heard, rather that saw, the impatient rat-tat-tat tapping of Lizzy’s boots as she sat across from Charlotte. Her sister was never one for patience and it wasn’t long before she broached the topic Charlotte was praying she had somehow forgotten.
‘Winterbourne’s brother is acquainted with Toby and Ann, how extraordinary.’
Sickening was a more appropriate term. ‘He went to Cambridge with Toby.’
‘How did that never occur to me knowing they were the same age? But to think they were good enough friends that Lord Andrew would spend time at Knightly Hall all these years later. When did he arrive? How long did he stay?’
The rocking of the carriage was not helping her stomach. ‘He visited with Toby at Knightly Hall not long after you left and stayed for about a week.’
‘Just think, if only I had stayed...’
Oh, if only she had, none of this would have happened! Charlotte would possibly have met Andrew, but she would have known he was Winterbourne’s brother and she would have never spent any significant time with him. She most certainly would not have had sex with him...under the stars, atop his soft brown coat, feeling as if she had been the centre of his world for just a little while.
‘Stop the carriage.’ If the carriage continued moving she was bound to lose the contents of her stomach.
Her sudden command startled Lizzy. ‘What? Oh, of course.’ Her sister rapped on the roof and instructed her driver to find somewhere to pull the carriage to a stop.
Luckily for Charlotte, they were near a London square and within a few minutes the carriage was parked under the shade of some trees. Lizzy opened the other window to get a cross-breeze through the confining space while Charlotte rested the back of her head on the well-cushioned velvet seat, taking in deep breaths.
‘Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?’ Lizzy asked.
Find another man to set your sights on.
It wasn’t as if Lord Andrew was all that wonderful. He wasn’t. Not really. He was especially lacking in consideration, as evident by the way he left prematurely without informing her of his hasty departure or having the decency to say goodbye. She had no experience with brief liaisons, but she was certain words of ‘goodbye’ and ‘it’s been lovely’ where normally uttered.
She eyed Lizzy through half-opened eyes. ‘I know that you are partial to Lord Andrew—’
‘I adore the man.’
Charlotte lifted her head. ‘Yes, yes, well, you think you do, but how well do you really know him? What do you know of his sense of honour? It’s possible he is one of those men who think only of themselves and gives little consideration to those around them. You yourself have told me on more than one occasion that the man is typically in ill humour and uncommunicative. That there is a coldness about him. How would that make for a pleasant marriage?’
‘I said he keeps himself at a distance from the world and with the proper woman by his side he would not appear to be so cold and brooding.’
‘Men do not change who they are for the women they are with. That is a false romantic notion. From the first moment you meet them, men exhibit exactly who they are. There is no hidden depth to them. You cannot change a person’s nature.’
‘I have no wish to change him.’
Lizzy had once told her that she wondered if the Duke of Winterbourne’s brother had remained a bachelor because he was partial to her and knew Skeffington was old and was waiting for him to die. Could that be true? She should have thought to ask him why he had never married. While it was a deeply personal question, they had done deeply personal things together.
‘What do you think of him, Charlotte?’
‘Who?’
‘Winterbourne’s brother?’
‘Why do you do that?’ she shot back unexpectedly. ‘Why do you always refer to people by their status in society? Why couldn’t you have just called him Lord Andrew Pearce? Even now, you can’t use his name!’
Her outburst startled Lizzy who, for the first time in ages, appeared to be struck mute.
‘If only you had told me his name... If only you had referred to him as Lord Andrew Pearce when you discussed him with me, I would have known he was the man you were attached to when I met him. I would not have treated him as some unimportant bachelor from London who went to visit his friend in the countryside!’
‘If you were short with him or not overly agreeable, I’m sure it can be rectified should he express romantic intentions towards me in the future. You needn’t worry that you will have ruined any chance I have with him.’
Charlotte leaned her forehead on the window frame and sucked in air, needing to hold in the bile that was threatening to escape. After a few deep breaths, her stomach settled. ‘You said he barely speaks. How do you know he is not like Skeffington? It is distinctly possible you would be just as miserable with him as you were with the Duke.’
‘Toby would not be friends with him if he was anything like Skeffington. And why are you in such a foul mood with me? I understand you are feeling poorly, but you are being rather waspish.’
Feeling poorly was a vast understatement to how Charlotte was feeling at that moment. Dropping her head back, she closed her eyes. She could not go back in time. She could not undo what had been done, as much as she wished she could. Lizzy’s future happiness was paramount. Charlotte had had a happy marriage. Her sister deserved one as well.
She needed to find a way to make certain that what happened between her and Andrew did not interfere with Lizzy’s chances with the man. He had appeared rather shocked to find out they were sisters. The idea of having sex with two sisters must have been unsettling to say the least. It was appalling to her. However, he hadn’t made any attempt to contact her and he had left the Knightlys so quickly after their liaison that it was apparent their time together was something that meant nothing to him. He might not even remember it.
Lizzy must never find out what happened between them. The only way was if Charlotte left London and never returned. When Skeffington was alive, she barely saw her sister. If, by chance, Lizzy did marry Andrew, she would find a way to avoid seeing both of them for the rest of her life. They could live together happily and she would live out her years in her cottage—alone.
Her stomach rolled again. She certainly didn’t want Andrew. Her heart belonged to Jonathan. But if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want Lizzy to have Andrew either.
She was a horrible, horrible person.
If Lizzy had any chance at finding happiness with the man, Charlotte needed to leave London as quickly as possible. It might also help her put this entire mess out of her mind. It wouldn’t be easy. She had been thinking about Andrew a lot since she’d returned to London. While home, she purposely avoided walking through the woods at Oakwood Hall for fear she would find herself up on the hill that held so many memories—memories that she would like to forget, but knew no matter how hard she tried, she never would.
‘Let’s get you home,’ Lizzy said, patting her hand. ‘A cup of mint tea may settle your stomach.’
All the mint tea in the world wouldn’t fix what Charlotte was feeling. As they rode back to Lizzy’s house, she tried to think of a reasonable explanation as to why she needed to return home. Their sister Juliet was supposed to arrive in London today with their Aunt Clara. Lizzy wouldn’t have to be alone when she met Skeffington’s heir. If all went well, Charlotte could leave London by nightfall. Then she could try to put this horrid mistake behind her and her sister would be free to pursue Lord Andrew.
Chapter Thirteen
The knock on her bedchamber door was so soft, Charlotte almost didn’t hear it. She had informed Lizzy she thought it best if she were to return to Cheshire because of how poorly she was feeling. Juliet or Aunt Clara could accompany her t
o meet the new Duke. But Lizzy insisted that all Charlotte needed was rest. How would she ever fall sleep again with the weight of her actions hanging over her? Lizzy said they would revisit her leaving in the morning. Charlotte didn’t want to revisit it. She just wanted to leave. The morning light would not change what she had done to her beloved sister.
Another soft knock followed the first and she threw aside her covers and sat up in bed. There was no sense in prolonging the inevitable and she called for Lizzy to enter her room.
The heavy wooden door opened slowly, but instead of Lizzy, her sister Juliet walked into her room, carrying a cup and saucer. The surprising sight was enough of a relief that it almost brought Charlotte to tears.
‘Lizzy told me you were feeling poorly and I offered to bring this tea up to you. I hope you do not mind.’
Once Juliet placed the tea on the table by her bed, Charlotte threw her arms around her for a tight hug. A small bit of comfort washed over her. They settled together, side by side on the bed, like they usually did when Juliet visited Charlotte’s house before she retired to her bedchamber and turned in for the night. Juliet was ten years younger than Charlotte and they had spent a lot of time together over the years, even before both their parents passed away in rapid succession of consumption eleven years ago. Just sitting next to Juliet in their usual fashion was making Charlotte feel a bit better, as if somehow things could go back to the way they had been before she met Andrew.
‘When did you arrive in Town?’ Charlotte asked, reaching for the teacup.
‘Aunt Clara and I arrived this morning. Luckily no one is leasing her town house at the moment. It was a long journey from France and it’s lovely being able to stop in London on our way home. We were both eager to see Lizzy and were thrilled when she left word that you were in Town as well. Our aunt suggested we settle in before we sent our cards around, but I was so eager to see you both, I could not wait for Aunt Clara to finish writing her letters and left as soon as I could.’
‘How is she?’
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