The Rake and The Rose (A Rake's Mistake) (17 page)

"Dear what on earth, good heavens what's happened?" her friend exclaimed.

"Anne…"  she  gasped  softly.  "Oh,  God  Anne."  She  tried  to  maintain  her composure and Anne, seeming to digest the information and come up with what looked a brilliant expression- glanced at all the masked bachelors and simply cried "Oh! Good heavens, dear! You look faint!" and began fanning her profusely. Gentlemen staring at the beauties flocked to her and offered an arm, but it did no good, it simply made her breathing worse.

Alexander growled in disgust and finally writhed from her grip. "Deirdre!" he snapped. The green eyes narrowed at him, but for some reason she looked smug. "I don't want you."

"Fine…but you can't have her,” she said in a knowing tone. It rather frightened him how much malice came from a woman's gaze. But on the edge of that harsh look, he could see chips of it fall away to show unease and…was that guilt? It was quickly replaced as he pushed her away, glaring at her.

"Wait and see," he challenged her and walked away after righting his mask.

He glanced over his shoulder seeing the young woman’s face warring between disappointment, and something he couldn’t name as her mother swooped and shadowed whatever it was that lurked in those green eyes.

They sat on a lounge chair in the ladies room. Anne had pretended Charlotte was faint- not that she wasn’t close to it- and assisted her to the back room for women. Where once she was slapped from a hysterical breathing fit and her corset undone; she broke down and wept openly upon Anne’s delicate shoulder. The young woman’s hair sticking to her tear streaked face.

"Oh, what happened?" her friend gasped while patting Charlotte’s stinging face. "Deirdre…" she whispered into her handkerchief. "She was with him…in the hall."

"Wait…with…with whom?"

"He was kissing
her
,” she whispered " of all people, quite ardently." The loathsome sound of her own misery cracked at the end. Anne flew up and spun to face her after walking a few paces forward, trying to think.

"Are you certain?" she asked “I mean it couldn’t…well I don’t know what else it
could
have been…”

"Oh Anne, do not be a fool. Alexander just decided to not want a woman and kissed her anyway…come now."

Anne for all she was worth thought on the subject and sighed shrugging her shoulders "Dear, it's alright. Do not cry,” she exhaled trying to find a way to calm her friend “For you shall move in with us tonight. I shall send my butler to get Precious and-"

"You do not mind Precious?" Charlotte's hope was evident.

`"No! I think she is adorable. And we'll sort out this mess with your identity post haste!"

Charlotte sighed inwardly, her chest felt as though it might cave in with the lack of a heart. "Can one die of a broken heart?" she whispered.

"You won't! Not on my watch," Anne firmly declared. Hoisting her up, she got Charlotte all patted dry and fixed to look as pretty as ever, and they rejoined the fray.

“Anne I cannot.” Charlotte gulped Anne turned to her- her brown waves coiled at her ears. She realized that her friend truly was a beauty, at merely sixteen too. “I can’t…” her voice broke.

"Come now darling! You shall be the belle of the ball and you shall have every man in Britain begging for your hand. Heritage or NOT!" Anne was like a young General talking to her troops. Charlotte gulped her fear down and followed suit. Sure enough- men flocked about them without fail.

Alexander had desperately searched for Charlotte through the evening, but at each moment something would pull his gaze, Deirdre was ever persistent, as was her mother, to hunt him down coyly and request certain things. He wanted to leave…with Charlotte. He wanted to take her home and kiss her the way Deirdre had tried to kiss him, with passion. He wanted to be rid of the plotting snake's touch and lips.

Charlotte walked the rooms one by one. There were people everywhere that faltered in drink. Some ran into one another
good naturedly and she decided that they had had a bit too much wine. It made her chuckle, but the weight on her heart was worse than before. He had been so sweet to her, had acted as if he loved her.

Fool, you had no such declaration
her mind told her.

She knew that in her heart she was right. She had no proof of his love, perhaps his tolerance what with Precious and a few other things, but nothing of him told her that he loved her. And she was not sure, which was more depressing. She overheard Lady Devon even speaking of how accommodating Alexander had been to Deirdre, and it made her chest ache.

Oh, why did it have to be him?
She felt her weariness creep in and, as if she had called upon him herself, he appeared. "Alex!"

He stood tall, and brooding before her. His breath came out short and quick. It startled her how quickly she had been found. "Charlotte." The way he said her name, it was so rich and deep that she nearly forgot what had happened.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

It was his turn to be startled. She was so curt with him! "Charlotte what's the matter?" He took a step closer and she backed away.

"I would rather not speak with you at this moment my Lord."
My Lord…but not Alex
. His heart caved in with fear.

His confusion mounted. "Charlotte, tell me what I have done and I can surely fix it.,” he implored stepping closer to drag her into a separate room that was open. He shut the door and turned to her. "What is this about?"

"As if you didn't know!" she snarled. He had never seen her like this. "I cannot believe you Alexander, now let me pass!" She stamped her foot and he crossed his arms with a scowl at the show of temper.

"No, what the devil is going on?" He saw liquid spill from her mask edge and stepped forward, but she denied him.

"It has come to my attention that although you were very… um- forward about your affections, whatever type they may be, I find it rather amusing and horrid how I found out about you and Lady Deirdre, through talk."

The confusion knit on his brow angered her even more.

"Furthermore I am shocked…and hurt that you had not told me, not that I guess it's any of my damn business what you do with your person but…but…If it had been you're intentions to treat me as the whore that I am not, I'd have rather you never have touched me to begin with!" she yelled at him.

"Charlotte I have no idea what-"

"I saw you,” she whispered. Suddenly his expression changed to shock, and then realization.

She took it as a sign he had been caught. But on the other hand, he was not reveling in that he had been caught, he had a realization; he was horrified by it.

So that was what that little harpy was so smug about? No, this can't be happening.
"Charlotte, please believe me," he began.

Her half hidden face looked disgusted. "What that she means nothing? For God's sake Lord Cromwell! If you had any decency in your body, you'd have just told me and left me alone!" She started to walk around him.

"No, you are not leaving," he said in a low tone, as he caught her wrist trying to tug her to his body.

"I can go anywhere I damn well please, Alexander.” He was taken aback by her language. “Now move aside this instant!" she thundered.

"Charlotte there is nothing between she and I. Listen to how foolish you sound!" He looked so astonished as he yanked his mask off…but she had seen it with her own eyes. Her heart felt like breaking in front of him. He took one long stride, and slammed her with a deep kiss, his hands clutching her to him. 

When she resisted, he nipped her full mouth and went in for another attack. Charlotte felt as if he was making siege upon her body and mind. His fingers branded, and his lips coaxed. He was so beautiful, and strong.

For a moment she lost herself, her mouth tangling with his and her fingers gripping into his hair. Alexander was desperate. He felt the need to protect her claw at him. She couldn't have possibly mistaken what he was doing with Deidra as affection? Could she?

But a dreadful feeling pitted in his stomach.
Yes she could
. From where he had been it had been dark. His look of distaste was probably not visible because of the mask, not to mention; how he had tried to push her away. Where his hands had been might have looked…more like he was trying to hold her to him- like he was trying to do to Charlotte. He grimaced into his kiss at the realization.

"You. Are. Mine," he said into her lips finally, tangling his fingers into her carefully arranged locks. "You will
not
leave me." The command held fire and he felt his demeanor crack. He couldn’t lose her now.

With a sickening realization of what she was doing, Charlotte cried out and flung him away as hard as she could. With two steps, she was at the door. "The devil take you, Cromwell. I shall never forgive you," she wept brokenly as she dove through the doorway and into the crowd of curious drunks.

Alexander stood, shocked to his core.
How could this be happening?
They had planned it all along, Deirdre and her mother. And now Charlotte believed the ruse. He should have never gone with that girl to begin with! Rage swept through him and he slammed his fist into a nearby wall. He felt his hand bruise at the force and felt his rage subside for but a moment.

"I have to find her,” he said through gritted teeth. as he strode through the rooms looking for her desperately, trying to maintain his composure as the predatory looks of society leeched into his mind and awareness.

Charlotte rushed through the rooms, before finding herself leaning against a wall in the darkness, Alexander stormed by and she held her breath till he was gone. Her heart was broken and she felt the world drift into a sea of masked faces.

No one she knew, no one to lend her a word of comfort. And no one who knew who she was or where she belonged. Her heart ached and she longed for the comfort she had felt with Alexander in his embrace. But not even that was available to her anymore. She inhaled trying to steel herself for the upcoming internal war.

She had to win and not succumb.

For if she had succumbed, she might very well give up who she was all together for just one moment more, had she not thrown him away from herself.

Even if that moment, were the only moment for happiness, and the rest of her life was to be spent with her heart locked away.

C
hapter
13

Charlotte all but flew back to Anne, but upon finding her friend flocked with numerous bachelors looking for her hand, she gulped down the nerves and found a room full of terraces to go and sit for a moment. She had an idea that Alexander was looking for her near the dining area, but she had no inclination to talk to him at all. As she headed over to an empty balcony, it so happened that none other than the last person on earth she expected to be her savior arrived.

"Why, Mr. Whitmore!" she gasped. The bear masked man grinned at her with twinkling eyes.

 
"My, look what I caught! A little Fox."

"I was heading-" she began.

"To the terrace? Allow me to escort you, dear." He seemed perfectly genteel, and she took his arm in a timid manner, as with people watching she feared to cause a scene.

"Well…For but a moment. I need to get home."

"I see you came with Lady Anne. How wonderful you both have become such good friends, Charlotte." Charles smiled at her widely, as they stood on the terrace. She breathed in the fresh air; it carried lilacs and other lovely floral scents from the garden.

"Oh! A garden, how beautiful!" She leaned over the railing to get a better look. 

"Lady Charlotte! Do be careful!" He took her elbows gently and pulled her a bit back. 

"I'm sorry, it's just so lovely." she murmured feeling sheepish.

"Forgive me dear, I did not mean to scold you," he chuckled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Charlotte felt very uneasy at that moment. Her mind reeled with thoughts of If Alex-
No!

She shook her head. Alexander had nothing to do with this. So what if she found a
-gulp-
husband in Charles? He seemed decent- but her mind went back to his raising hand and she stilled. But would he always be? What if she were to vex him again? What on earth would happen to her?

She gazed at him confused at what his angle was as he leaned against the railing looking rather dashing, but no Alex...- She couldn't seem to get over that fact. Nor the fact that Alexander had been with Deirdre. "Charles...what is your agenda?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you want?" She eyed him cautiously, remembering their incident in the tea shop.

"Well, I want to get to know you...is all," he murmured and stepped closer to her.

She tried to back up, but hit the railing. "What?"

"I would very much...like..." he trailed an arm up her waist "to get to know you better Charlotte." he whispered to her hair. Charlotte deftly squirmed out from his grip.

"Forgive me, but I think we have different ideas of what  ‘getting to know’ someone means Mr. Whitmore," she stated firmly.

"However do you suppose that Charlotte?"

"I-I..." she gulped, "because of how you are acting now, sir!" She swatted his hands and tried to turn away. She could feel her temper rising. The urge to slap him was like a great bubble in her chest.

"So, that Lord still has your apron strings?"

"I beg your pardon," she snarled at him her eyes flashing, "Who do you, think you are?"

"I think I'll be the one to marry you. You crafty little vixen."

"Not bloody likely," she sniffed, but as she turned, she spotted a woman gaping at them.

"What now?" she sighed exasperated at society.

"My dear, you have been found on a terrace...alone...with a man." The grin he had was devious. "And you are now tainted. One might overlook Alexander's intentions upon you, as he is a Lord. But I am a lower ranking man, and a rake."

"And?”

"You will be ruined otherwise."

Charlotte exhaled realizing what had happened. Society, she was beginning to realize, was brutal and harsh. "What...how could you! You knew!"

"Oh yes, I knew." He leaned against the railing and eyed her in a possessive way. "You're going to be mine. Charlotte. I won't take no for an answer..."

"No, I cannot...Charles..." She turned and began to walk away.

Alexander rushed through the rooms and met up as Anne came round the corner "Have you seen-" they both started..."Charlotte?" he gasped and Anne's eyes narrowed.

"What on earth would you want with Lady Charlotte, my Lord?"

"I-I was a fool...She saw something-"

"Oh I know what she saw Lord Cromwell-" Anne crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a maternal look- which was rather comical for a sixteen year old “I may be young, but I won’t allow you to hurt her!”

"It wasn't what it seemed," he nearly bellowed but kept his tone down. 

"Oh?" Anne's eyebrow rose in sardonic disbelief, not bothered by his barely controlled rage.

"Lady Anne-" he started, but she shook her head glaring at him vehemently.

"Well, at least no one found out about the two of you, whatever it was between you two. But, apparently, she was seen with Charles on the terrace. Though, from my own friend, she seemed unhappy. Unfortunately, a friend of Deirdre’s saw her, as well. And you know what that means."

Alexander was not hearing her anymore. He was taking great strides to the opposite rooms, where the terraces were. He passed a few with kissing couples, two with singular women or men enjoying the breeze, but rounding upon the final one, he heard what he had been looking for.

Charlotte was caught by the arm quickly, his fingers gently digging into her flesh. "Ouch! Charles, leave me alone! I will not marry you. I-" she hissed her breath through her teeth when his grip tightened.

"Look here." Charles was growling at her now "You will marry me. You have no other choice. I am going to have you whether you approve or not." His teeth were gritted and his face no longer had the pleasant expression it had earlier.

"I'd rather die," she spat and he seemed to leer at her and towered over her frame.

"No, you are far too pretty to die." His hand ran across her face and leaned in. 

"If Alex-"

"If Alexander what? Spots us? Someone already did. I don't doubt he's heard of it. It seemed that he was coercing Deirdre.  He doesn’t give a damn about you. Remember? If he acted as if he did, it'd be on pure male possession. But have a care, do not let him fool you, Charlotte."

Silence was the answer and a dreaded feeling in her belly spread across her. “You are attempting to fool me as well Charles.” She finally said.

"And? Either way, Alexander can't save you now. I'll make you happy.  You won't want for anything, as long as you give me children..." He glanced down at her waist with lust in his eyes. "I'll be perfectly happy."

"I-" tears welled in her eyes. "I-I'm leaving," she whispered and he let her go. 

"Think about it Charlotte. I'll be waiting when you are done being looked upon like a tart that I know you are not," he grinned.

But she couldn't leave, because a man was standing in front of the door, blocking her path to the rest of the world. He blocked out the entrance in rage and without his mask, and he looked fearsome.

"Alex..." she whispered, as he strode past her and caught Charles by the collar and in one quick move threw him against the railing knocking the bear mask off.

"Alexander!" She grabbed his arm.

"What!" he yelled, not even looking at her.

"Stop it!" Charlotte demanded. "Stop it now!" 

"Why?" he looked half mad.

"It's too late," she hissed at him and now, he spun on her fully. 

Now she had his attention, "And what do you mean by that?"

"Go and find Deirdre. It's none of your concern what I do!" He looked as if he had been hit. As where Charles on the other hand, despite being sore and rubbing his shoulder, looked triumphant.

"What?" Alexander's expression was one of disbelief.

"You heard me. Whether or not I choose if I am with Charles is not your concern,” she said softly. Tears coated her throat and she choked on them, when the look in Alexander's eyes was murderous gaze that now glared at Charles.

Just jealousy...that is all, he has lost his plaything.
She thought.

Alexander stared at Charlotte as if he had gone mad and heard her wrong.
She can’t be with Charles!
It wasn't possible! He turned on the smug looking man and with one glare he snarled at him. "I'll kill you-"

"You will not."  Charles gloated  "Do as the Lady asks and leave us, I won Alexander, be a good sport and leave."

"No!" Charlotte glared at them both. "I am not an object to possess." They both stopped "I am a person. A human being...with" she gasped as tears leaked from her eyes. "With feelings, and wants of my own!" She stumbled over the words finally breaking. She did not even know who she was, or where she belonged and felt more alien at that moment than ever in her short existence in their world.

"Sweetling-" he stepped forward from his adversary, his eyes filled with concern, and Charlotte stepped back.

"No! Do not call me that! I hate you! I hate you both!" she choked back a sob. “You cannot keep me with you when you aren’t even willing to think of marriage…I won’t be anyone’s whore.” She spat the final word causing Alexander to flinch.

Alexander felt as if she had ripped his heart out "S-Charlotte, don't talk in such a way...you know I’d never think of you like that-" He took another step and noticed that others watched, the only good that they seemed to sympathize with Charlotte. Deidre stood out from the crowd glaring at them. "Charlotte please...let's just go home. We need to talk." He cradled her face in his hands, but she shook her head and stepped away. His arms fell to his sides limp.

"I will go home, thank you. Anne?" Anne had come to her side; the gaze from her sharp eyes speared him to the core. 

Anne spoke softly, and quietly "I think, Lord Cromwell, that you have caused her enough pain. Go home, let us all cool ourselves down before this gets any further.” Everyone- crowd and all agreed.

Charlotte took Anne's arm and was guided away, silent tears spilling over her lower face shown only halfway from her mask, the dark eyes shattered like a mirror in the night.

He stood silent, and he felt a strange feeling in his body. Alexander, of course, had no knowledge, nor did anybody of what the feeling was, but one might have explained it as having one's chest spontaneously combust from the internal war in his heart.

Anne guided Charlotte through the rooms and out the door. Anne's mother had been glaring at Deirdre’s mother and then at Deidre, who for all intensive purposes looked not smug, or happy- but guilt ridden and abysmal. Alexander walked by and Deirdre caught his arm. "Alex!"

"Do. Not. Call. Me. That," he growled one word at a time before disengaging her. "And I never wish to see you again in polite society, Deirdre. Do you understand? Never!" With that he left.

A week later . . .

Charlotte lay in a wallowing heap on the chaise lounge in Anne's rooms.
  Anne was currently sweeping a beautiful cream dress about her person. She had sent Alex letter after letter and realized after he had missed her request for tea and a meeting- that he would not come for her.

"Anne?" she said woefully, "I think I might die."