He hated the thought of her having to string the Marquess along, but he knew it was for the best for now. It would buy them time.
He only hoped that it would buy them enough time to clear Dr. Ellington. Otherwise, he might just have to poison someone himself.
Charlene nodded, leaning into him once more. “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Eric stroked her hair. “Everything is going to be all right,” he promised her. He only hoped that he could deliver on those words.
Chapter 13
Miss Charlene Ellington
In the aftermath of Lord Ambrose’s visit, Charlene had found herself feeling distraught and unhappy. She knew that she needed to tell Aunt Helene about the Marquess’ proposal, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that for the time being.
She did wonder what her aunt would have to say about the proposal. Helene herself had never been married. She claimed that she wouldn’t put up with a man who didn’t act as though she was his whole world, yet she had no need for a second shadow.
Thus, there was no reason to have a husband. Although she had introduced Charlene to society in the hopes of making a match for her niece, she hadn’t seemed bothered that Charlene remained unmarried.
Yet if this was the only means of saving Helene’s dear brother, then surely her aunt would see Charlene’s refusal as the height of betrayal. As a means of turning her back on her family. She would likely see it as Charlene’s duty to marry the Marquess.
Charlene still felt sick at the thought of giving her hand to Lord Ambrose, however. It wasn’t just the fact that it went against every notion of justice that Charlene had ever had.
The investigator shouldn’t be able to blackmail her in order for justice to be done to her father.
If Dr. Ellington was innocent, and Charlene was still sure that he was regardless of whatever evidence they might think they had against him, then the innocent man should walk free.
Besides that, though, Charlene couldn’t believe the nerve of the man. He didn’t deserve her, she was sure of that. And moreover, she was sure that the man knew that, or else he would have asked her while her aunt was present.
He would have asked her without having to blackmail his way into getting her.
She felt depressed, the more she thought about it. It was all so wrong. Even the women she knew with unhappy marriages had at least had some happiness out of the courting.
Charlene had been denied even that, and she was sure to have an even unhappier marriage. Yet if she could do anything to save her father, then she must.
She hadn’t been sure that she should say anything to Eric. Of course, he claimed he was trying to help her save her father. If there was some way that she might do that, then she owed it to him to at least mention it.
Except, what did he care if the Marquess wanted to marry her? That kiss in the carriage had been nothing more than nostalgia for when they were younger and more carefree, she was sure.
She finally made up her mind that she had to see him either way, simply to see if he had learned anything more.
She ought to at least tell Eric that the investigator seemed to think that the case was as good as solved and that they were running out of time. Perhaps she would keep the Marquess’ proposal to herself.
All her plans had gone out the window, though, when she had actually seen Eric. He was like a breath of fresh air. The one solid thing in her life right now, when so much was up in the air.
She was in his arms almost before she had realized that she had moved. Perhaps it wasn’t right for her to be so forward with him, but Eric hadn’t seemed to mind.
And then they had been kissing, and then the next thing she knew, she was telling him about the Marquess’ proposal.
She left his place confident that Eric would do what he had said, though. That he would find some way to prove her father’s innocence, and that if the Marquess tried to do anything underhanded, he would use his connections to ensure that justice was still served and that her father wasn’t sent to hang.
She breathed a little easier that night, and for the first time since this whole ordeal had started, she slept well, dreaming of nothing more than Eric’s body curled around hers.
If only those feelings of contentedness could have lasted into the next day.
Charlene knew that there was something amiss when Helene knocked on her door and burst into her room while Charlene was still getting dressed with the help of her maid.
“Oh Charlene, you’ve really done it this time!” the woman snapped. She looked at the maid. “A moment alone, please.”
The maid scurried away, and Helene took her place, forcefully lacing Charlene into her bodice. “You’re the talk of the town this morning, you know that?”
“Whyever for?” Charlene asked worriedly.
“Someone spotted you leaving the duke’s house. Alone! The rumors are everywhere.” Helene sounded angrier than Charlene had ever heard her.
As well she might. The last thing her family needed right now was this sort of blow to their reputation.
Charlene could barely breathe, and not only because Helene was showing no mercy as she cinched the young woman into her clothes.
Of course she knew there was a risk in going alone to Eric’s house. But, she had figured, the two of them had made it all the way to Newgate and back without being discovered.
It should be safe in the privacy of his house. And she had needed to talk to him. What was she to do?
Now, she felt foolish. She should have told Helene what she was planning a long time ago. She should have asked for the woman to accompany her to Eric’s, even if it meant that the two of them couldn’t be as free with one another.
She tried to clear the air now. “Auntie, you know it wasn’t like that,” she said, turning to face Helene. “Lord Eric is helping me clear Father’s name. That’s all.” She paused. “Father and I saved his life once, a long time ago. He’s merely paying us back.”
Helene’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t excuse your behaviour,” she snapped.
She shook her head. “Oh, what your father would have to say to you, if he only knew. Bad enough, that time that you were caught riding astride that horse. Now society has no choice but to speculate that that horse isn’t the only thing that you’ve been astride.”
“I haven’t!” Charlene said, aghast to hear her aunt say anything of the kind. But she felt guilty, knowing that Helene was only telling her what half the women in the city must be saying about her. “All we did was talk, I swear it.”
“Then you should have had someone else with you as you talked,” Helene said tartly. “No, don’t give me that look. You know it’s true.”
Charlene ducked her head but was spared from responding by a knock at the door. One of the servants poked his head inside. “Lady Helene? Miss Ellington? Lord Yardley is here.”
Charlene winced yet again. Lord Yardley was Miss Matilda’s father. If he was here, there could only be one reason: he had heard the rumors, and he was here to fire her.
She couldn’t possibly be a suitable role model and escort for his daughter if she herself was gallivanting unchaperoned with the young duke.
“Well?” Helene said acidly. “He’s not here to see me! And if you’re hoping that I’ll bail you out of this mess, you can think again.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I suppose I don’t need to remind you that the stipend that Lord Yardley pays you, albeit not much, is our only income currently, with your father in prison.”
Charlene flinched. She wanted to explain things further to her aunt, but she knew better than to keep her employer waiting. She hurried downstairs.
“Lord Yardley,” she said, sweeping into a curtsey the moment she entered the room.
“How dare you deceive me into putting my daughter into your care,” Lord Yardley snapped.
“The duke and I didn’t do anything of ill repute,” Charlene
said desperately. “Lord Yardley, as I’m sure you’ve heard, my father is currently under investigation with regards to the death of Lord Henrich.
“Duke Cumberland is only helping me attempt to clear my father’s name. I simply went there to tell him that Lord Ambrose believes my Father will be sentenced soon and that we’ve little time left to find out who was really at the bottom of Lord Henrich’s poisoning.”
Lord Yardley shook his head. “I knew the moment I heard about your father that I should have fired you,” he said.
“But not only are you the daughter of a man accused of murder, you have proven yourself to be a woman of low morals. A dalliance with the duke, my God. You are no fit company for my daughter.”
Charlene gaped at the man, hardly believing his words. He, like everyone else, seemed certain that her father was guilty. And he wasn’t listening to her with regards to the duke.
There had been no dalliance. Sure, she had been seen alone at his house, but that didn’t mean anything.
She knew it was no hope, though. She and Eric had only kissed, and no one had any proof of even that. But they didn’t need proof for their imaginations to run wild.
“I don’t want to see you near Matilda again,” Lord Yardley said with finality. He stalked from the room, leaving Charlene alone. She sank into a seat, feeling as though all her bones had melted. Everything was ruined. Her reputation, her job, her family.
Eric would surely back out on helping her prove her father’s innocence now. He wouldn’t want to be part of the gossip that she had brought upon them.
Oh, it was fine for him to have dalliances with her. He was a man; it was only expected of him. He would no doubt laugh it off and say that she had flung herself at him.
He would keep his position. But no one wanted to be seen with someone who had been branded a slut.
Her father would be found guilty, and she herself would have no future.
Unless she accepted the Marquess’ offer. She felt her blood run cold as she realized that that was the only thing left to her. If he would still have her, given this indiscretion.
Then again, what would Lord Ambrose care if she had been seen with another man? A doctor could prove her virginity. And then he could claim that he had tamed her. That he had broken her wild spirit.
In fact, knowing that she had been with Eric would probably only make her seem like a sweeter conquest.
She couldn’t seem to stop crying, not even when Helene entered the room and clucked her tongue at the young woman. Helene sat next to her, a hand on her shoulder as she sobbed.
“We’ll figure out a way through this,” she sighed. “Somehow.”
“Lord Ambrose wants to marry me,” Charlene admitted tearfully. “He says that if I agree to his offer, then he will see that Father is let free.”
Helene was quiet for a long moment. Finally, she sighed.
“It might be the best way to solve all of this,” she said quietly. “If he would still have you, it would salvage your reputation, and that of our family. And your father would be let off.”
She paused. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s possible that your father did intend to poison Lord Henrich. All the evidence does seem to be against him.”
“Auntie!” Charlene said, aghast to hear that from a member of her own family. “I’m sure that he’s innocent. Eric and I…” She trailed off, staring down at her lap.
“Of course, Eric probably wants nothing to do with me now,” she finished miserably.
“That’s for the best, probably,” Helene said tartly. She squared her shoulders.
“You know that I would never force you into a marriage against your will. But I think you should consider the Marquess’ proposition, and your loyalty to your family. Especially in light of this morning’s gossip.”
Charlene felt the horror rise inside of her. Wasn’t this exactly what she had been afraid of? That her aunt would push her to marry the Marquess?
Oh, she knew that Helene meant well. Helene believed that the best way to protect the family, to keep them all alive and well, was for Charlene to accept the investigator’s proposal.
Charlene could not help but protest. “I know you do not pay much heed to the rumors of the ladies of London, but surely you’ve heard the whispers about Lord Ambrose!” she said, aghast.
Helene’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Oh yes, I have heard the rumors,” she said. “But Charlene, you’ll realize as you get older, and in particular when you get married, that certain things of someone’s domestic life appear quite different when they get out in the public. And people always exaggerate about situations they don’t truly have a clue.”
“You mean that it was all a misunderstanding?” Charlene asked, unable to help the sarcasm that crept into her voice. “How could someone misunderstand that Lord Ambrose was beating his wife? That he was the reason she lost their child?”
“Charlene!” Helene gasped. “Let us not talk of such dreadful things.” Charlene could see the worry that creased her aunt’s brow, and she wondered why the older woman seemed to be defending the Marquess.
Was Helene that desperate for Charlene to marry the man? So desperate, in fact, that Helene cared nothing for her niece’s continued health and longevity?
Charlene obediently let the rumors drop and focused on other reasons for not wanting to marry the Marquess. “He’s so odious,” she said. “He revolts me.”
Helene rolled her eyes at her niece’s dramatics. “Charlene, you are quite old enough now to realize that being a wife means stepping into a role. You will have responsibilities as the Marquess’ wife. These have nothing to do with your feelings about the man.”
Charlene wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to bed a man whom I detest,” she said.
“It is time for you to give up your fairytales. You are a grown woman now,” Helene said impatiently. “You would but have to keep house for him, and to give him heirs. When he is bedding you, you will simply have to close your eyes and hope that he goes quick.”
Charlene stared miserably down at her feet. “Is it so much to wish for a man who would actually love me?” she asked bitterly.
Of course, the only man whom she truly wished to have love her was Eric. And given that man’s status as a duke, she knew that nothing could ever come of his love, even if it were freely given to her.
She regretted the fates that had put her into this situation. But surely marrying the Marquess wasn’t the only option.
Helene sighed. “I’m sure Lord Ambrose will come to care for you in his own way,” she said. “Perhaps it is not the perfect match, but I am certain that the man would do you no deliberate harm.”
Charlene could tell that her aunt was lying and that Helene was more worried than she was truly admitting. But what use was it to call her on the lie?
The one saving grace was what Helene had said before: that she would not force Charlene to marry against her will. If Charlene truly did not wish to marry the Marquess, then Helene would respect that.
Or perhaps she would not respect it, but she would not work against her niece’s wishes to see that they were married regardless.
Charlene sighed. “I doubt he would even allow me to continue making my lotions and salves,” she reminded her aunt. “All money that we had would come from him and only him.”
For even if Charlene married the chief investigator and ensured her father’s freedom, she doubted her father would be much able to provide for them anymore.
Helene pursed her lips. “Then you will simply have to obey the man and be a doting wife,” she said. “He will have no reason to be cruel to you if you behave yourself.”
Charlene gave her a look. “The rumors,” she said flatly. She doubted that Lord Ambrose would need much of a reason to be cruel to her. He was a vicious man who would stop at nothing to assert his power.
In fact, Charlene worried that even if she married the man, he might have her father sent to the gallows. Just as a lesson
to her, to show that he wasn’t the kind of man who she could broker deals with.
It would show his sovereignty over her. His utter, unchecked power.
Charlene shuddered at the thought of what she might endure at that man’s hands.
Helene didn’t seem to notice her niece’s distress, however. Instead, she turned and walked towards the window for a moment, seemingly lost in other times.
She had grown up here with Charlene’s father, but Charlene knew very little about their life then. Whenever she broached the subject, her aunt made it clear that she had no desire to discuss any details from those times.
Charlene loved her aunt dearly, but sometimes, she could barely understand the matriarch’s plan for her.
A Wicked Scandal For The Bluestocking (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 10