The viscountess’s eyes widened. “Me? I would not risk my own daughter’s reputation by allowing people to think that her stepsister was such a brazen hussy, even though it may well be true.”
Charlotte stopped to think for a moment. What was her stepmother playing at? Would she really risk her own daughter’s position simply to complete the final humiliation for Charlotte? Or was she still hoping to sabotage the marriage between herself and the Duke, in her desperate hope that he might then turn his sights towards Alison? Either way, Lady Haddington was behaving like a desperate woman.
But what if she was right? What if the Duke was only marrying her out of duty, and she was cursing him to a miserable, loveless marriage? And perhaps she was cursing herself to a similar fate. All her life, she had dreamed of a marriage like that of her parents, a true love match, but she had never really hoped that those dreams would come true. And if her husband was only marrying her because he had to, then those dreams certainly would never come to pass.
She glanced at Martha, who gave her what she imagined her sister hoped was an encouraging smile. But in that smile, Charlotte thought she saw something like pity. Did even her sister think that she was heading for disaster?
Charlotte could not think straight. She longed to flee from the room, to run outside and get some fresh air to clear her head. But the footmen were bringing in the main course, and she had no choice but to stay where she was, for the time being at least. There was enough gossip going around the ton about her already without giving the servants more to talk about. She wished most earnestly that she never had to give another moment’s thought to the opinion of other people. She was heartily sick of it.
The viscountess dismissed the servants as soon as they had served the food. It was just a family dinner, after all; there was no need for them to linger at the table. And, of course, she wanted privacy to continue her tirade. Charlotte imagined herself for a moment, sitting alone at Seton Hall just as Lady Haddington had described. Even if society shunned her, at least she would not have to listen to her stepmother anymore.
“In all honesty, Charlotte, I am surprised that your father can bear to look at you after what you’ve done. Yes, marrying a duke is a great thing if it is achieved with decency and propriety, and it should be something that would make your family proud. But what you have done…? Well, I do not know how your father will ever live it down.” The viscountess paused for a moment to cut up her chicken, her knife making an ear-splitting screeching sound as it made contact with her plate. “I fancy that even your mother would have been ashamed of you, and we all know how strange her view of the world was!”
Charlotte threw her cutlery down onto the table with a clatter. She could not stand it any longer. “Please do not bring my mother into this! She would have helped me, advised me, rather than torturing me as you do!” Her heart was pounding now, with a mixture of fury and fear, and the thought of her mother was enough to bring her to tears, but she would not allow herself to cry in front of her stepmother.
“Sister,” Martha said quietly, reaching out to touch her arm. “Try to ignore her. She only says it to hurt you.”
“Ignore her!” Alison scoffed, speaking out at long last. “You would ignore my mother, who has been so kind to you?”
“It is not my idea of kindness,” Martha replied coldly. “Shall we retire, Charlotte? I find that my appetite has gone.” She rose to her feet and invited Charlotte to do the same.
Charlotte nodded and stood up. “I will tell you one thing, though, Viscountess Haddington,” she said with a mock curtsy to her stepmother. “I know in my heart who I am, and I know what really happened that night with the Duke. I know that I am not who you think I am or who you tell everyone that I am. And I hope that your scheming comes back to haunt you one day.”
“My scheming? I do not know what you mean. You are becoming deranged, dear Charlotte,” the viscountess said. “Perhaps you are ill?”
“I am not ill!” Charlotte snapped. “But I am sick of trying to convince you that I am not what you think I am. And I am sick of worrying about what the people of the ton think. You can think what you like, all of you. I am sick of it all!”
Charlotte fled from the room, her sister following closely behind.
* * *
Alison had been watching the scene unfold before her with amusement. She thought that her mother was probably right. The poor Duke could not possibly want to marry Charlotte for any reason other than to save them both from a terrible scandal. Just looking at her now, with her pale face and that awful hair, and those eyes that were such a strange color, Alison could not imagine how any man would find her attractive.
And yet the Duke had been so attentive to her at the ball and largely ignored Alison herself until that awful moment when he had openly slighted her to dance with her stepsister again. The whole situation was most vexing. He had ignored her, even though her dress was so much nicer, and she was so much more beautiful than her stepsister, or so everyone said. So much more beautiful and not in the least bit odd.
The Hervey sisters ran from the dining room, leaving most of their food untouched.
The viscountess tutted. “Such a waste of good food,” she sighed. “And such a dramatic performance! That is not the behavior that society will accept from a duchess, is it, my dear?” She looked over at Alison with a smirk.
“No, indeed, Mama,” Alison replied. She chewed her chicken and swallowed it down. “Do you think he really will marry her, Mama?”
Lady Haddington shook her head. “Not if I can help it.”
“What do you mean?” Alison felt a stab of curiosity as she looked at her mother. Surely they could not stop the wedding now.
“I think she is hiding something,” the viscountess replied. “In fact, I am sure of it, and I am determined to get to the bottom of it. I will not stand by and watch that wretched girl becoming a duchess and then lording herself over us. I refuse to allow it! It is a position well above what she deserves.”
Alison nodded. She could not agree more with what her mother was saying. The position of a duchess was much more suitable for a young lady who had been brought up properly in society, a young lady who knew how to dress properly and how to behave appropriately in society. A young lady whose mother was also a member of the nobility in her own right, rather than having married into it. A young lady rather like herself, in fact.
Her lips curved into a sly smile at the thought. All was not lost, indeed, if her mother had a plan. And from the look on the viscountess’ face as their eyes met across the table, she could tell that her mother indeed had a plan, and she was more than happy to help her put it into action. Charlotte could not be allowed to marry the Duke. They had to put a stop to it, and soon, before it was too late.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
“Your Grace, I have been thinking that perhaps we should not marry after all,” Charlotte said.
Luke felt his heart sinking into the ground with a lurch as the words came from her mouth. “What do you mean, Charlotte? You cannot be serious?”
They were outside in the gardens at Haddington Hall; Luke had called on Charlotte after breakfast to tell her that the license was secured and that the wedding was arranged for two days’ time. At last, they were allowed to be alone together, and now, here she was, looking pale and anxious, telling her that she did not want to marry him. He could not understand it at all.
