The maid scurried away, presumably to prepare the eggs, and Alexander turned the letter over, snapping the plain wax seal.
Dear Duke of Ashbourne,
I hope this letter finds you well. I must apologize for my husband’s rashness yesterday. We would like to invite you over for tea at three o’clock this afternoon, if it suits you, for us to discuss the matter further.
Yours Sincerely,
Lady Lydia Fairchild.
Alexander read the letter three times before it truly sank in. Hope swirled with fear, the feeling pinching at his stomach. Could it all have been a silly misunderstanding? Maybe. Maybe this was his chance to win Charlotte back, to ensure she became his wife.
But something didn’t feel right, and he wondered whether there had been a disagreement between Lord and Lady Fairchild. Perhaps Lord Fairchild had declined Alexander’s offer, only to findLadyFairchild furious that he didn’t accept.
“Maybe,” he muttered to himself as the eggs were placed in front of him. He looked up at the maid. “I’m sorry, I have rather lost my appetite.” With that, he left the breakfast room and went to prepare himself for his meeting.
Alexander arrived at 3pm exactly, as instructed. He had made sure to put on his best tailcoat and tie his smartest cravat. He had combed his hair several times, and had the valet shave his beard. Yet still, as he knocked on the door, his heart shook with nerves.
“Ah, Your Grace,” the butler said as he answered the door. “You are expected in the drawing room. Follow me.”
He turned on his heels and marched away before Alexander could say a single word. Instead, he snapped his jaw shut and followed as requested. There was a peculiar feeling in the air, as if he were in a dream and he floated through the corridors.
“His Grace, the Duke of Ashbourne, my lady.”
My lady?Alexander’s brow furrowed as he waited by door. Was it only Lady Fairchild? He hoped not. He felt as if he hadn’t seen Charlotte for a century or more, though in truth it was only a day and a night.
“Thank you,” the female voice said, and Alexander froze. It was not Lady Fairchild but Lucille! Had he been duped into coming here?
The butler bowed then took his leave, nodding to Alexander as he left.
“What’s going on?” he asked immediately. “Where are Lady Fairchild and Lady Charlotte?”
To his fury, Lucille shrugged, though the grin on her face told him she knew very well. “I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Why don’t you take a seat?”
Alexander hesitated, unsure for a moment. But he could never be impolite, no matter what this woman had done to him. He glanced at the open door then took the seat as far away from Lucille as possible.
“Perhaps we ought to call the maid in,” he said, bouncing his legs up and down and pointedly avoiding Lucille’s eyes. He had never felt so uncomfortable in his entire life, and Lucille’s intense gaze did nothing to make him feel better.
Her high-pitched giggle floated through the air, making him cringe. How had he ever thought himself in love with such a woman? She was nothing compared to his beautiful Charlotte, and now he could be grateful that she had betrayed him.
“I am serious, Lucille,” he said, glaring at her from across the room. “This is inappropriate, and I do not wish to be the subject of gossip again. Neither do I wish to damage your own reputation. I should have thought you bothered by that, given that appearances are so very important to you.”
Lucille pouted at him. “Oh, don’t be like that, Alexander.”
Alexander huffed. “I’d far rather we stick to formalities, please.”
Lucille giggled again. She rose from her seat and swayed across the floor, closer to him. “You’re always so fretful, but honestly, there’s nothing to be concerned about. Especially not about us being alone.”
She was standing so close that he became overwhelmed by the rose water she had daubed herself in, the scent cloying and suffocating. He looked up at her, and she raised her eyebrows at him.
“I mean it. There’s nothing to worry about. We are quite alone in the house.”
Alexander froze, the muscles in his shoulders tense and uncomfortable. He wished he was anywhere but there, and yet he was too polite—and too eager to see Charlotte—to leave. To his surprise, Lucille sashayed away from him, but she only went to the door. She pushed it with a single finger until it swung shut, closing them together in the room. Alexander sucked in his breath and stood up.
“I really think that’s quite enough,” he said. “I ought to get going.”
But by the time he was on his feet, Lucille was in front of him again. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “Isn’t it time we rekindled our love? It was a lot of fun, wasn’t it?”
She ran the tip of her finger down his cheek, making him shudder. He cursed his body for enjoying the sensation while his mind screamed for escape. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want her.
