“I do not even need to threaten you,” Luke said. “Now, leave us alone to eat our dinner in peace, you buffoon.”
Lord Harry gave a snort, then turned on his heel and shambled across the room to rejoin a group of gentlemen who had been watching his dealings with the Duke with great interest. No doubt some version of the truth of the encounter, some twisted and inaccurate version, would be circulating the ton within hours.
“What an awful man,” Luke said, privately thinking that Charlotte had a very lucky escape and that Miss Thomas was unfortunate indeed. He turned to face Mark, who had been sitting back in his chair watching events unfold without saying a word. He saw now that his friend had a puzzled expression on his face.
“You’re not just marrying her because you have to, are you?” Mark asked.
“Indeed I am not,” Luke said. He eyed Mark slyly. “Now, shall we discuss Miss Martha?”
CHAPTERTWENTY
Charlotte sat at the dinner table, feeling the furious glare of her stepmother on her as she tried to concentrate on her food. She had been too anxious to eat properly for several days now, and the atmosphere in the dining room was doing nothing to stimulate her appetite.
She had wanted to feign illness to avoid having to come down for the meal, but Martha had persuaded her against it. Her sister had said that it was better for them to put on a united front to stand up to their stepmother.
“The problem is not going to go away, Charlotte,” Martha said firmly as they sat in Charlotte’s chamber, preparing to go downstairs. “Even when you are married. You must try to reconcile yourself to it and learn to handle it wisely.”
It was easier said than done, Charlotte thought grimly as she speared a carrot with her fork, then chewed it in a desultory manner. It was not easy to enjoy her food when her stepmother was casting such murderous looks at her, and Alison, too, was glaring at her and huffing sulkily at every opportunity.
Their father was not with them. Since the Duke had refused his invitation for dinner, Lord Haddington had somewhat petulantly decided to absent himself, too, and chosen to go and dine with a business associate instead. Charlotte wished with all her heart that he was here. She knew that his presence would temper the behavior of her stepmother, at least a little. As yet, Lady Haddington had barely spoken, but Charlotte could tell that her rage was boiling under the surface and would spill over at any moment, engulfing them all entirely.
And she did not have long to wait. After the first course had been cleared away and there were no servants left in the room, Lady Haddington laid her napkin down purposefully on the table and cleared her throat.
“So the Duke has declined the invitation to join us for a family dinner tonight. Tired of you already, is he, Charlotte?”
Charlotte bit her lip. She would have dearly liked to respond with the truth, and to tell her stepmother that the Duke could not bear to be in the same room as her. The Duke of Seton, that pillar of society, hated Lady Haddington so much that he would not break bread with her, even though he was soon to be related to her by marriage. She allowed herself a tiny moment of pleasure while she imagined the look on Lady Haddington’s face if she were to hear that particular kernel of truth, but she held back. It would not help anyone to wind her stepmother up too much, however tempting that may be.
Instead, she smiled her blandest smile before responding. “No, my lady, he very much wanted to come, but I insisted that he return home and attend to some business that seemed to be troubling him.” She paused and allowed a small smile to play upon her lips. “I would prefer him to not be distracted by matters of business in the lead-up to our wedding if at all possible, but of course, for a man of his position, there will always be things of that nature that require his attention.”
Lady Haddington scoffed. “Matters of business, indeed! As if he would discuss such a thing with you!”
Charlotte said nothing. She reached for her glass of wine and took a large sip. Her stepmother’s presence made her feel rather in need of the gentle haziness that a small amount of wine could bestow upon her.
“You really are quite full of yourself, now, aren’t you?” Lady Haddington persisted, seemingly determined to get Charlotte to respond. “Now that you imagine you’ll be a duchess soon and be able to lord it over us all! I’m sure you can’t wait to make me follow you into dinner.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes; she could not help herself. “It has not crossed my mind for a moment. You know that I am not interested in all those things. The ton is obsessed with precedence and rules, but I do not care about any of them at all.”
Lady Haddington snorted. “Well, you shall have to care about them if you are going to marry a duke.” She glanced across the table to where Alison sat opposite her, smirking behind her napkin. “If, indeed…” she added, a wicked glint in her eye.
Martha, next to Charlotte, sat up straight. “What do you mean, if, stepmother?” she said, her face the picture of innocence. “The Duke and Charlotte are engaged, and he is arranging the license for the wedding. Why would it not come to pass that they would be married?”
Lady Haddington could hold in her anger no longer. “Because, you foolish girl, your sister has tricked him!” she shrieked. “She has trapped him, deliberately, into marrying her! Why else would a man like that want to be with – well, with a girl like her?”
There was a horrible sneer on her face as she spoke, and Charlotte felt something within herself quiver. But she remembered what her sister had said earlier on in her chamber. They must stand up to her, together. They must be unified.
“That is not true, my lady, and you know it. I did not trick him!” she retorted.
The viscountess continued to glare at her. “You knew that Alison was interested in the Duke, and you deliberately set about throwing yourself at him so that you could steal him from her. Even though it is obvious to everyone that she is much more deserving than you of such a man and such a position in society.” Her gaze flickered back to her daughter again. “She is much more beautiful, more refined, and more graceful than you. She is much better suited to being a duchess. You bring shame on the family, and you will make a mockery of the title, should it ever indeed be bestowed upon you!”
Charlotte felt her cheeks burn. What if her stepmother was right, and she did not deserve to be a duchess? She remembered her frustration just the other day at having to change for dinner, when the Duke was visiting. The endless rounds of socializing and parties, the endless gowns and bonnets and gloves. Could she bear it, really, for the rest of her life? Or was she indeed not cut out for that kind of existence? Perhaps the Duke would be ashamed of her or grow tired of her. It made her heart twist with sadness to think of it.
She gritted her teeth. No, she would not let her stepmother get into her head like this and make her doubt the Duke.
The viscountess folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. It seemed that she could tell that she was getting to Charlotte. She saw her stepmother exchanging a glance with Alison before continuing.
“I don’t know how you shall live with yourself, in all honesty, Charlotte,” she said, her tone lower, more cajoling somehow. “Imagine yourself sitting alone at Seton Hall as the Duchess of Seton. Because, of course, no one will want to associate with you, despite your position, because of this scandal.” She paused, holding her gaze with a steely glare. “Because who knows what you were up to in the shrubbery that night, hmm? Although, of course, we can all imagine.”
Charlotte felt the heat rising up her face. “It was not like that, Stepmother, and you know it. You were there!” A creeping realization began to dawn on her. “It is you who have been spreading the rumors, isn’t it?”
