Before Charlotte could stutter her embarrassment, David stepped forward and took her arm.
“She is still trying to determine if I am worthy, which, of course, I am not. I hope she will have me nonetheless.” He smiled down at her with affection.
The Dowager gasped and clapped her hands with joy and Vittor released a jolly, booming laugh, the rest of the family joining in. She had forgotten their presence. Her cheeks flared with the heat of embarrassment.
“Come inside and let us treat you to proper Maltese hospitality. We are so delighted you are here. I thought we might have to come to England and force you to return with us,” he said as he drew her mother to his side and kissed her cheek.
Charlotte could not remember her mother ever looking so happy or vibrant. Charlotte could not be more delighted, though she had expected they would spend her own spinster years together. Her mama had truly found her love and her place. That was what she hoped for with David. Would it ever come to be? It felt as though it was just within her grasp but she could not quite reach it.
The ladies were shown to a drawing room which opened on to a terrace boasting views of a garden and the ocean beyond. They were a sharp contrast to the often dark, rocky and cold views she had at Langborn. Trays of fresh fruits and strange, exotic foods were placed before them—olives, goat’s cheeses and fresh bread with thinly sliced ham. Tea was brought, along with fresh-squeezed lemonade.
The men were drawn away to Vittor’s study, no doubt to appraise him of the possible threat they still faced. Yardley had sent word back to England, but they might not receive any further information before they returned home themselves.
“Now we may speak freely,” her mother said, fanning herself as she settled on a wicker chaise longue covered with cerulean blue pillows. Jolie, Letty, Maili and Charlotte all laughed. “I feel as though I have missed a great deal and I want to hear everything!”
“You have missed a great deal, Mother. However, you are the one who married without any word until after the fact.” Charlotte arched a brow in mock reprimand.
The Dowager giggled in response like a young girl in her first Season. Charlotte was stupefied.
“When did you become betrothed?” her mother countered.
“We are not, officially.” Charlotte could feel her cheeks flush.
“But he as much as made a declaration on your arrival!” Her mother stretched out her hand towards the front of the house.
“I think, dear Mama, it would be best to explain from the beginning,” Jolie interceded. Charlotte gave her a grateful look.
“Several months ago, Sir David Douglas and Miss Dickerson—Letty—returned from the West Indies, where they had been living, in hiding, for a decade.”
The Dowager raised her eyebrows but waved her hand for Jolie to continue.
“As a young man, Sir David had been caught up with Lord Brennan in his smuggling schemes and having escaped, had left to protect the Douglas children as well as Letty.”
“I heard of Lord Brennan’s death before I left England. It was quite a scandal.”
“Yes, it was, and because of Uncle David’s involvement, he required a pardon from the King,” Letty added.
“Which the King refused to give unless Sir David performed for him one more service,” Charlotte said.
“That sounds just like our dear George,” the Dowager replied.
“He wanted Sir David to capture the leader of the Rottingdean gang.”
“Everyone in the vicinity knew they had been operating there for ages without any real harm. What did he want with them?” The Dowager frowned.
“It was discovered they were smuggling arms and munitions to our enemies. They were also using Langborn and Yardley’s yacht for their nefarious purposes. Not to mention they killed some of the Revenue Officers.”
The Dowager gasped and snatched her hand to her chest in astonishment. Charlotte almost laughed. She had missed her mother’s eccentricities.
“Sir David and Yardley were working together, but dear Charlotte uncovered everything. She was almost killed by Colonel Prescott when she discovered them moving goods one night,” Jolie added.
“Charlotte, whatever were you thinking?” her mother asked with disbelief.
“I am safe now, Mama.”
“I can see that and I can also see you are in love with Sir David. Does this mean everything has turned out for the best? Has he been pardoned?”
Charlotte could do without her mother’s bluntness.
“He has been pardoned and has retained the baronetcy and estate. Yardley surprised me by sending him on the ship with me when I was coming to visit you.”
“I imagine Yardley had some help with matchmaking.” She cast a sly look at Jolie, who only smiled.
“Several nights after we set sail, my cabin was ransacked.”
The Dowager shook her head. “Was this a coincidence?”
“We do not think so,” Jolie answered. “When we arrived at Langborn to follow them at a leisurely pace, we also found Charlotte’s apartments had been rummaged through. We believed she was in danger and followed after them as fast as possible.”
“There have been no incidents in several days, Mama. Perhaps he found what he was looking for.”
“I certainly hope so! I assume the men will see to our safety here,” she said dismissively, as though she could not be bothered to consider that any more danger existed. “I think we should plan a wedding!”
“Mama!”
“Well, you were on a ship with him unchaperoned, and I insist you wed here. You must admit, it is inordinately romantic.”
Charlotte cast her gaze to the heavens. She needed some privacy with David, and soon.
David found Charlotte standing on the veranda, alone at last. A self-mocking smile curved his lips as he recalled the first night he had approached her on the terrace—as though drawn to her by some unconscious force.
“Have we come full circle, my lady?” He took her into his arms and spun her about.
Charlotte laughed and it was music to his ears. “I suppose you could say that.”
“What do you think of Malta so far? Do you enjoy the island life?”
“I certainly enjoy the warmth and the views. I have never seen anything like it—I feel as if I have walked into a fairy tale.”
“You would enjoy Barbados. It is every bit as beautiful as this.”
“Perhaps you can take me there, one day.” She turned and smiled coyly.
“How can you be so sure, Charlotte?”
“Of you?”
“Yes,” he whispered, as he put his arms around her, relishing the comfort of her.
“I just know. Perhaps that is the difference between men and women?” She looked up into his eyes, searching.
“Not entirely. I have always been drawn to you—known you were far too good for me—but men are perhaps more hesitant to come to terms with their innermost feelings.”
“I do not believe I care what words you say to me so much as how your actions speak.”
“So the words I have been trying to say to you for days no longer matter?” he asked with a devilish look.
She swatted his arm. “I did not say they were not welcome.” Her face was adorably exasperated. “Now tell me what you were going to say.”
“If you are certain...”
She glared at him.
He took advantage of her prim chin pointing upwards to bend down and cover her lips with his. He could not resist the temptation, so he told her his feelings more eloquently with a kiss than he ever could have done words. Charlotte was receptive—she always had been. She leaned into him and, for the first time, he did not fight his feelings with guilt but embraced the uninhibited love and promise of passion. He had to gather his will to pull away.
“I want to marry you, Charlotte. I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I know it is completely selfish of me to ask, but you seem to want me despite all my faults. And there are many, many
faults. Lady Charlotte, will you marry me? Will you have me?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” she answered as she pulled his head back down to hers. “I do not wish to wait another day.”
Another kiss ensued, and it was some minutes before either were capable of words.
“Would you like to marry here, so your mother can be present? Or would you prefer to wait and have a grand Society wedding?”
“If those are my two choices there is no question. I would much prefer to marry here and quickly.”
He chuckled. “Then I will endeavour to make it happen as soon as possible. Am I going to go to the trouble, though, only to find all the duchesses have other plans?”
“A very good question. Why do we not plan it and then just tell them?”
“Another remarkable notion,” he mused.
“Now that is resolved, are you going to tell me what you men were discussing for so long this afternoon?”
“I would rather not.” He stepped back and ran his hand over his face.
“Has something happened?”
“Nothing has happened, precisely. However, there was a letter waiting here for your brother, from Lord Fairmont.”
“What did Nathaniel have to say? I cannot imagine how he got a letter here so soon.” She shook her head. “I suppose if anyone could it would be he.”
“I imagine he sent it express courier across the Continent. Your brother had asked him to continue investigating once he found your home had been searched. Reverend Howard was a fount of information under Fairmont’s interrogation.”
“Did he discover something?”
“He confirmed what we suspected. The three men all enlisted as privates in the 30th Regiment of Foot. Their battalion commander had them publicly flogged—for atrocities I would prefer not to repeat to a lady’s ears—after Badajoz, and they have carried a grudge to this day. It took significant digging to discover more information on Prescott, however.”
“Yes, he was a Colonel and remained in the army.”
“All the better to carry out his grudge, I suspect. Apparently, the officer in question had turned and run from the fighting. Prescott found him hiding at Salamanca. He later blackmailed this man to get the promotions and worm his way into the Home Office.”
Charlotte closed her eyes and blew out a breath of astonishment. “Yes, it all begins to make sense. It does not justify their actions, but I have never been in such a situation. From Nathaniel’s stories, war was quite horrific.”
“I think there are many layers to this,” David said in a measured way. “The enlisted ranks did not have it easy. Most of the time there were not enough rations, shoes were inadequate, and feet were blistered after marching for miles each day…pay was not reliable. There was often resentment of their superiors—and if you throw an arrogant coward into the mix, it is a disaster. It is easy to forget what you are fighting for without an honourable leader.”
“I suppose it makes it a little easier to understand now that I know the how and why, but it still does not explain why they are continuing to come after me, or at least my belongings.”
“No, I know.” He pulled her back into his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder. They began to sway back and forth; and David never wanted to let her go. He wanted to keep her safe in his arms forever.
Chapter 22
If something seems too good to be true, it is.—21 April
The blessed day had finally arrived. Charlotte could not believe it was actually happening. David had arranged everything from the church to the Reverend and the time, and had allowed the other ladies to arrange the breakfast at the villa afterwards. Their small party were the only guests, but she supposed the family wanted it to be as special as possible. Charlotte only wanted to be Mrs. Douglas—or Lady Douglas, as it would properly be. It was all she had wanted since the moment he first spoke to her. The rest mattered little.
It was a warm morning and as she rode through the streets of Valletta to St. Peter’s Cathedral in an open landau, she held a small bouquet of lilies and roses to her nose. She inhaled; their sweet scent mixed with the sea air and smells of fresh baking in nearby kitchens to fill her heart with simple joy. Pretending not to notice the armed guards in front and behind them, she refused to allow thoughts of that horrid man to intrude upon her wedding day. When they arrived at the church, Yardley helped her alight and led her up the steps to the wooden front doors. It looked much like one of the grand cathedrals at home, with its tower and dome holding court majestically above the rest of the town. Inside, he led her down the aisle through the nave, its inside reflecting the bright sunshine from without, the stained glass windows casting a rainbow of colours across the church.
Sir David was waiting for her at the altar, looking more handsome than she had ever seen. Freshly shaven, with his dark hair combed back, he was dressed in grey trousers and coat, a silver waistcoat and a white neckcloth. He looked divine.
Her own gown was one of the new creations she had yet to wear, a pomona green silk the same shade as her eyes. For once, she truly believed the notion that beauty shone from the inside out, for she felt happy and knew it was bursting from her. The look on David’s face when he took her hand from Yardley’s was all she needed as proof.
The ceremony was brief and to the point, though she did appreciate the fact their marriage was sealed in a church, performed by a bishop. She had signed a register and would have a British marriage license. It was real. Happiness felt like it was finally within her grasp—especially when David looked at her as though she were the only woman in the world.
They returned to the villa and were joined by some of her stepfather’s family for the celebration. The feasting and dancing continued well into the evening. Charlotte’s feet hurt and she was ready to escape with David. She did not know if it would be rude to say their goodbyes and retire for the evening. Unfortunately, they could not go away, since there was nowhere else to go. Charlotte took a few moments to herself on the terrace, to watch the sunset while waiting for David to join her at what had become their special place. She was going to miss this magical feeling of eternal summer. Now that her mother had settled here, they would have reason to visit often.
They were returning to England soon to start their new life together. Yardley felt that it was necessary for them to present themselves in Society with the full support of Cavenray, Craig, Harris, Wyndham and everyone else they could gather to present a united front. She also wished to attend the wedding of Mr. Davenport to Letty, who did not wish to wed without her mother‘s presence.
Inhaling the fresh scent of pelargoniums, which filled the boxes surrounding the terrace, she stayed outside, lost in her musings about her wedding night and what the future would hold for them as a married couple.
One large hand gripped her arm as another hand clamped over her mouth. Her nostrils filled with the smells of unwashed sweat and rancid breath. “I knew I would eventually find you. Now, if you promise not to scream, I’ll take my hand off your mouth.”
After nodding her agreement, he dropped his hand. A vice-like grip took hold of her heart and squeezed it. She did not know the voice, but it was not a friendly one. The cool blade of a knife pressed upwards against her throat. She swallowed hard, despite her most fervent wish to remain still. Charlotte knew if she turned her head to look it would be Captain Dunn. How had he managed to pass the guards?
“Aren’t ye going to say something?”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice trembled.
He cackled; it was a frightening sound one could scarce call a laugh. “What do I want? I want my life back. Ye took that from me. Ye realize that, don’t ye?”
“I thought you died,” she said softly.
“Would that I had.” He forced her head sideways to look at his scarred face. She had not seen him often enough to have memorized his features, but she could tell he had been badly burned. Raw, puckered flesh pulled in tight lines against his jaw, a
nd beady black eyes watched her with a challenge in their crow-like depths. “I jumped in the water before it got the rest ’o me.”
She kept her gaze steady, refusing to show fright. It would hardly be appropriate to voice her thoughts on the fact that she wished she had shot him instead of the boat.
“Well, here we are, Mr. Dunn. What do you intend now?”
“You are a cold fish. Not at all what I expected from what Edna said.” Edna was his sister—her cook, the snitch.
“I am sorry if I disappoint you, sir,” she said in her haughtiest tone.
“I actually like ye, Lady Charlotte. I tell ye what. I will make ye a deal. I will let ye live if ye hand it over.”
“I know not of what you search for, sir. I would be delighted to give you what you seek if you will only enlighten me as to its nature,” she said, hoping her voice sounded steadier than it felt.
“’Twould be a shame if I had to make yer face look like mine. Or better yet, do something to that double-dealing husband of yers.”
“I am in earnest, Mr. Dunn. I have no idea what it is you want.”
He spat in her face and it was all she could do not to retch. He was about to lose patience with her and she knew she was running out of time. She had been gone for some time now. Why were they not looking for her?
“Now ye are going to lead me to yer chambers without being seen. Then ye are going to hand it over and we will part friendly-like and ye will forget ye ever saw me. Understood?”
She gave a slight nod, still very conscious of the blade pressed to her throat.
“You will be much more noticeable holding me like this. I promise to walk with you without a fuss.”
“Very well, but if you yell I will slit your throat and then find your husband and kill him.” He released the blade from her throat and she turned to enter the house. She chose the farthest door on the terrace away from the dancing.
Looking through the door before entering, she motioned for him to follow. It was frighteningly easy to pass through the house unnoticed. There were no servants in this wing since they were all attending to the wedding feast.
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