An Heir of Deception (26 page)

Charlotte told them about the visit with Alex’s parents and how quickly they’d accepted Nicholas into their lives.

“Frankly, I’m surprised,” Missy said, pastry in hand as she sat poised to take a bite. “I met Alex’s parents once, and they’d be the last people I’d expect to welcome an illegitimate grandson with open arms. Did you know that the duke is somehow related to Her Majesty or some such?”

Missy then bit into the pastry, closing her eyes and humming sounds of confectionary delight as she chewed. Her expression was rapturous enough to bring a smile to the dour countenance of
Monsieur Solielle
himself, their master baker.

“Indeed, she made it a point to remind me and berate me about it in the same breath. I thought to remind
her
she’d informed me of their intimate ties with Her Majesty during our initial meeting but thought better of it,” Charlotte said dryly. “But they were swayed by Nicholas’s resemblance to Charles. She made it very clear she holds no great fondness for me and I very much doubt that sentiment will ever change.”

Katie made a face. “Wretched woman.”

The sisters helped themselves to the same pastry Missy was consuming with such undisguised joy. Charlotte took a bite of the flaky apple tart and concurred with her sister-in-law; it was positively divine. They ate in companionable silence.

“I know, I shall throw a ball.” Missy’s sudden exclamation came on the heels of having eaten every last morsel of the pastry. And then, armed with a serviette, she wiped her mouth of the lingering evidence of her indulgence.

“A ball?” Katie asked, making another face. “And how will a ball help improve matters with the duchess? I’m quite sure the duchess is invited to a plethora of social events.”

“Simply put, I shall invite some of the most notable in Society. Once they’ve given Charlotte their stamp of approval, everyone will follow. It will be, in essence, Charlotte’s reentry into Society. And once she’s achieved that, much of the duchess’ grievances against her will disappear.”

“And if they don’t give their stamp of approval,” Katie queried, “what then?”

“Well of course I shall pick them with care. Amelia and Thomas, and Elizabeth and Derek will come I’m certain. I would invite the dowager Viscountess Armstrong but she’s in America with Mr. Wendel and expected to remain until the fall. Needless to say, the guest list will be comprised of those most likely to be sympathetic to Charlotte’s plight.”

The pause that followed wasn’t the least bit subtle in its invitation to come clean, divulge all. Charlotte remained mum. That Alex knew was sufficient for the time.

But a ball? The thought of being subjected to Society’s scrutiny at such close quarters made Charlotte’s stomach turn in on itself. She hadn’t much liked it the year of her debut and, given the circumstances, was even less inclined to it now. But her sister-in-law did have a point. The Season was already upon them and she would have to face Society in the not-so-distant future. Best she get the whole thing over and done with and what better way to do so than with the full backing of support of her family and friends. Just the thought of her dearest friend, Elizabeth, the viscountess Creswell, made her wistful.

“I think that’s a grand idea,” Katie agreed. “Most will come once they get word of the marriage. And if that won’t have everyone fairly champing at the bit for an invitation, then I guarantee when they hear about Nicholas, Missy will be besieged with people begging for an invite.” The smug smile on Katie’s face clearly showed she relished the thought.

“I shall book an appointment with Miss Foster as you will require a gown.” Missy wore a calculating expression as if she was already going over the many details that went into the planning of an event of this magnitude. This would be no small undertaking.

“Tomorrow Nicholas and I shall be moving to Gretchen Manor,” she reminded them. When she’d first told them, they’d looked at her, brows up, surprised she’d thought to have mentioned it when they’d assumed nothing less. She and Alex were, after all, man and wife.

Even still, Katie now sobered at her statement. “Well thank goodness Alex had the presence of mind to purchase an estate so close in proximity. I simply couldn’t bear it if you were any farther away.”

Charlotte too was glad of that.

“When I spoke to the duchess alone yesterday, she did tell me something I wanted to ask you both about. She said something about James having to fish Alex from the Thames.”

Missy and her sister visibly paled.

At length, Katie said, “I wish the duchess hadn’t said anything to you about it. It’s an incident we’d rather forget.”

“Well she did and I’d like to know what happened. It appeared from what she said, there were a number of people witness to it.” She’d thought about it quite a bit last night while she tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep before the sun came up. She had failed miserably.

“Dearest, it happened a little over two years ago and at a time when Alex was not at his best. He was hurting a great deal,” Missy said.

“Because of me.” Although the duchess had told her as much, for some reason Charlotte needed it verified.

Katie’s gaze dropped to her lap and Missy stared at Charlotte, stricken. After a pause she inclined her head in a nod. “He was devastated when you left and changed a great deal during that time. Unfortunately his drinking became excessive. I didn’t actually see what happened, but I did see James and Thomas dive into the water to get him. We thought that was the end of it until days later he developed a fever.” Missy grew misty-eyed and swallowed hard before continuing. “At one point, the physician advised us to prepare ourselves because he might not make it. But he did and we have Miss Foster to thank for that.”

With tears but a blink away, Charlotte tried not to cry. She cleared her throat and asked, “Miss Foster? What did she do?”

“Miss Foster is very good with herbs. When she discovered Alex was ill, she arrived with a mixture she swore worked wonders on fevers,” Katie explained.

“Since the physician told us no more could be done for him, we were willing to try anything. Hours after giving him the mixture, his fever began to abate. In two days’ time it was gone altogether. Alex credits her with saving his life, which is the reason he was so willing to loan—well rather give her the money to open her shop.”

Charlotte feared that if she spoke then, her words would jumble. Miss Foster had helped save Alex’s life. Now she understood their affection for her and why they had all rallied around her. She too owed the woman a debt of gratitude she could never repay. While Miss Foster worked as a
modiste
, Charlotte would patronize no other.

“Did Alex say what happened—how he came to be in the water?” She knew Alex and she knew with utter certainty he would not have deliberately gone overboard.

“They discovered the railing had given way. A bolt holding it in place had rusted and become dislodged. Regardless, Alex blamed himself and said if he hadn’t been drunk, he would not have stumbled against it. It was then he stopped drinking.” Missy gave a sad smile.

“It was the one good thing that came of the horrible ordeal. I should hate to think what could have happened had he not stopped. But,” Missy slapped her hands down on her lap, “everything is much better now. You are home and he has his son.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Charlotte couldn’t think beyond the event and those that followed. Alex had almost died.

Missy picked up the teapot and poured the hot liquid into her cup. “I hope it helps you to understand him better. He has been through and endured much over these last several years.”

All because of me.
That was the part her sister-in-law was too kind to say aloud, but the truth of it riddled her with pellets of guilt.

“I shall do my best to be a good wife to him.”

“It is obvious you still love him dearly, therefore I have no doubt you shall,” Missy said. “Now, I must send word to Miss Foster to make an appointment to fit you for a gown for the ball. I shall have her go to you. You’ll no doubt want some time to settle in first.”

The need to be alone now clawed at her insides. Charlotte rose from the sofa. “I really must get our things together for our departure tomorrow. If you will excuse me.”

Her sister’s eyes looked suspiciously bright but she didn’t try to stop her or offer a hand. She knew Charlotte needed time to herself to digest everything she had learned.

“You shall sleep here,” Alex said, pushing open the door that led to the suite adjoining his.

As she preceded him into the room, Alex thought of her parting words of two evenings ago. And knowing she wanted him, would seek to win his heart was all he’d been able think about since she’d confessed it. Now from that night on, they would sleep a door apart. The image it conjured in his mind distracted from the marriage he sought to have with her: cordial, respectful, and one that wouldn’t threaten the boundaries he’d set in place. So he forcibly thrust the thought of her lying with little more than a flimsy piece of fabric covering her as she slept from his mind. Night would be soon enough for that torment.

Charlotte surveyed the room, her gaze settling on a large wardrobe, a springlike scene painted on the doors, the sort of feminine things females adored.

“This is lovely,” she said.

Alex’s gaze strayed to the bed and then back to her. God she was beautiful, especially when she smiled as she was doing now. After all these years, an air of innocence still surrounded her like the clouds over a mountain. It had been one of the things he’d loved about her, because in bed she’d been passionate and insatiable.

That she could for even a moment think that he would not have loved her if she’d come to him still cut deep. Did he appear a man so fickle in his affections? What good would the dukedom have been to him without her? He shouldn’t be in line for the damn title in the first place. But she hadn’t wanted to test the bonds of his love, fearing they would fray and snap under the pressure of Society’s judgment.

Advancing deeper into the room, her gaze slowly ran over the bedside table, the vanity, the wardrobe and bedstead until it halted at the door behind the dressing screen. “The dressing-room?” she asked absently.

Alex nodded.

She gestured toward the closed door located slightly adjacent. “Where does that lead?”

“To the master suite.”

Her face flushed a brilliant pink as she immediately shifted her gaze from his. “Oh, I did not realize that…” Her voice vanished like a fine mist under the scorching heat of the sun.

“We are husband and wife.”

He said it as if it explained everything. This from the same man determined not to have her in his bed. Again she glanced at the door. It was locked, she was sure.

His gaze flicked to the door and then back to her face. “If you have any hopes I will ever make use of it, I fear you are sadly mistaken. As I told you before, while I may on occasion publicly express affection toward you, it will be to deflect suspicion from our marriage, which, as you know, will be under intense scrutiny. I will not go so far as to bed you in private.”

Charlotte hated that he spoke as if the notion was unpalatable when they both knew he still desired her, that he wanted her just as she wanted him. But he wanted her against his will, which by the day was looking mightier than a Trojan suited up for war.

“Yes, you’ve made it very plain how you feel about me.”

Except for the tightening of his jaw, Alex didn’t react to her statement. She wondered what he’d do if one night when wanting him and not having him became too much for her to endure,
she
made use of that door. Would he turn her away? Of course she’d do no such thing. She simply hadn’t the courage and couldn’t fathom setting herself up for probable rejection. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to change his mind.

“I shall leave you to settle in. Dinner will be served at seven.”

Charlotte didn’t know whether to be relieved he’d taken the truth so well or angry it had mattered so little to him, he couldn’t understand why she’d done what she’d done. Or forgive her.

“Thank you,” she said and watched as he turned to leave. She hungrily took in the broad width of his shoulders, the narrowness of his hips to the long stretch of legs. Heat pooled between her thighs. God, how she’d missed him. God, how she wanted him.