The Rocky Mountain Heiress Collection (81 page)

As she spoke, Charlotte slid a peek around the edge of the crowd in case the fellow from the garden had appeared. Her conscience prickled at her uncle’s change in expression.

“What happened?”

“I, well, that is, the room was warm and the garden lovely, so …” She looked down at the mud on her slippers then back up at Uncle Edwin. “I was merely trying to catch a glimpse of a comet.” At her uncle’s confused expression, she paused. “I admit I bit him, but he deserved it. Thus, there truly is no further cause for action.”

“Where is the scoundrel? I’ll have his—”

“Forgive the intrusion, Miss Beck,” a decidedly familiar male voice called.

Charlotte looked past her fuming uncle to see the man from the garden moving toward them. In his hand he carried the mangled remains of her fan.

“Hambly,” Uncle Edwin said in an ugly hiss. He touched her arm. “Is that the man who accosted you?”

“Well, actually …” She grappled with an answer as her conscience began to sting.

“Just a moment of your time,” the man said.

“Charlotte?” When she couldn’t find any words, Uncle Edwin turned to face the dark-haired man head-on. “You’ll speak to me and not her, Hambly.”

Martin Hambly held up his hands, the fan still dangling from his fingers. “I mean no harm.”

“Uncle Edwin, please don’t make a scene.” Charlotte moved between her uncle and Hambly. “I must confess that I might have instigated the situation by—”

“Move,” her uncle said as he pressed past her. “This family’s been asking for …”

And then Uncle Edwin punched him.

“I don’t care if he was Fensworth’s prize pony,” Uncle Edwin said as he helped Gennie into the carriage, then climbed in beside her. “Hambly’s son walked through the ballroom with your ruined fan out for all to see.” He paused and seemed to be considering what to say next. “A gentleman would have considered Charlotte’s reputation.”

“The same could be said for Charlotte. Still, Edwin,” Gennie said as she settled her skirts, “your behavior was simply barbaric.”

“Barbaric, was it?” He turned his attention to Charlotte. “Tell her what you told me.”

What had she told her uncle? “I, that is …” She paused to think, an impossible task with two sets of eyes staring at her and the awful corset biting her ribs. “I believe I might have mentioned that—”

“That he accosted you,” Uncle Edwin supplied. “You were simply out looking at a comet.”

At that statement, Gennie’s brows rose. “When did you develop an interest in astronomy, Charlotte? Other than the painting you made for your grandfather, I’ve seen no indication of any affinity for stargazing.”

Several answers came to mind. “I’ll send a note of apology to our hosts,” Charlotte said instead. She lowered her eyes. “Please don’t tell Papa.”

“You’ll do no such thing, and I’ll make no promises as to your father.” Gennie paused. “Of all the noblemen in London, you two had to offend the earl and his son. Do you have any idea how difficult it has been for Lady Hambly and me to arrange even the most tenuous of truces between our families?” She crossed her arms and looked out the carriage window.

“But, I—”

“Driver, please turn the carriage around,” Gennie said sharply. “We’re going back to the Fensworth home.”

Charlotte shook her head. “We can’t go back there.”

Uncle Edwin joined the protest until Gennie held up her hand to silence both of them.
“We
aren’t going back. Charlotte is.”

“I am?”

Gennie nodded. “You are.” She swiveled to face her husband’s brother. “Edwin, you have amends of your own to make, but as this entire incident began with Charlotte, it shall end with her. You may either wait with me or find another means of transport.”

“You can wait alone.” He called to the driver. “Stop here and let me out.” Charlotte watched as her uncle bounded from the carriage without looking back.

“Stubborn man, that one,” Gennie said as she settled back against the seat. “Now, as to
your
Beck stubbornness, shall we discuss it now or once you’ve completed your errand?”

“I’d rather hear it now, if you please,” Charlotte said, “though I doubt it will be news to either of us that what some see as self-assured, others might call stubborn.”

“Self-assured, is it?” Gennie chuckled. “I supposed I might have been accused of that a time or two in my youth.” Her expression sobered. “However, you’ve a decision to make, and you’ll make it right now before you leave the carriage.”

“Goodness, Gennie, you sound—”

“Irritated? Annoyed? Completely exhausted with your antics?” Gennie’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, yes, and yes!”

The starch went out of Charlotte’s argument as she took in her stepmother’s reaction. “Well,” she said softly, “I had no idea you felt so strongly about this.”

“Whoso diggeth a pit shall fall therein: and he that rolleth a stone, it will return upon him.” Gennie paused. “From the twenty-sixth Proverb.”

Charlotte swallowed hard and studied the battered and stained fan dangling from her wrist. For once, no witty comment or smart retort came to mind.

“Your fan isn’t the only thing you’ve ruined tonight.” Gennie leaned forward to cover Charlotte’s hand with her own. “A lady’s fan is easily replaced. A man’s reputation, however, is precious and fragile. As to your reputation …” She paused and looked away. “Perhaps you’ll be excused as just another American. However, I’m sure your grandfather would wish a remedy of some sort.”

“A remedy,” Charlotte echoed as Gennie once again met her gaze. “Yes, of course, but how?”

Gennie leaned back against the cushions and contemplated the question. “I don’t suppose we can depend on stargazing to become all the rage. That would certainly excuse your behavior.” She shrugged. “We shall simply have to pray nothing further happens to raise eyebrows.”

Gennie spoke as if she had little hope of seeing this happen.

“I promise I’ll behave,” Charlotte said. And she meant it.

The carriage slowed to a halt, but Charlotte’s heart did quite the opposite. Crossing the street before them was the very man she’d wronged.
Thank you, Lord, for not making me go back inside
.

“Go on,” Gennie said as the liveried servant opened the carriage door. “I’ll wait here.”

“But that isn’t proper,” Charlotte argued, recalling Miss Pence’s admonition against unsupervised walks with unmarried gentlemen. “And I’ve just promised to behave.”

“Very well then.” Gennie looked at the servant. “Follow her, please. Keep your distance but see that propriety is maintained.”

“Yes’m,” he said with a nod.

Far too quickly, Charlotte found herself at the curb with the Fensworth heir moving away at a fast clip. As he had not seen her, Charlotte had not only to catch his attention but, failing that, catch him.

And in the ridiculous corset, no less.

Forgetting Miss Pence’s egg, she lifted her skirts and darted as best she could across the traffic on Grosvenor Square. At the opposite curb, she turned back to see Gennie watching.

Now what?

Gennie shook her head and pointed to the retreating Englishman.

With a groan, Charlotte turned back to her pursuit. “You there,” she called to the broad back of the Hambly fellow. “Please slow down.”

He kept walking, oblivious to her situation. Or perhaps reveling in it. Stepping in and out of deep shadows and brilliant streetlights, the nobleman appeared fully aware he’d been summoned and fully resistant to respond.

Charlotte picked up her pace, breathing as deeply as she could so as not to faint from lack of oxygen or the stench that permeated the city. The man’s stride was long, his agility quite good, for they had reached a section of sidewalk crowded with people. She too wove in and out of strolling Londoners, keeping the back of the Hambly heir in view. When
she glanced behind her, Grandfather’s servant was nowhere to be seen. He had either blended into the crowd or abandoned his post.

And yet she could not turn back. Gennie would require her to complete her mission, be it now or tomorrow. And
now
was Charlotte’s time of choice. She never had learned the gentle art of patience. Nor did she relish the thought of offering her apology in front of others—chief among them the earl and his wife.

“You, sir!” She darted around a trio of lads. “Slow down! I wish to speak with you.”

“Hey, there,” one of the young men called. “You’re a pretty thing.”

Ignoring the bawdy laughter, Charlotte pressed on. If only she could remove the corset. Then she could catch this man without once again making a fool of herself by passing out.

“Mr. Hambly,” she gasped. “Truly, you
must
stop.”

“Ooh, she’s a
lay-dee
,” one of the street toughs singsonged.

“A fine American
lay-dee
,” the other added.

“Looks like she’s
a-feared
of us,” the third said. “See how she runs after that bloke. Or maybe she’s not a
lay-dee
a’tall.”

Well, that did it
. Charlotte halted. She palmed the ruined fan that still dangled from her wrist and pointed it at the trio.

“Come one step closer and I shall be forced to show you exactly what happens when a man goes too far,” she said. One of the three jerked his hand to his pocket, and Charlotte swatted at it with the fan. “Don’t,” she said through clenched jaw.

“I recommend you listen to the lady,” came a deep voice from behind her. “Look what she did to me.”

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to see Hambly had returned, sporting the beginnings of a nasty black eye. A clamoring of boot heels
on the sidewalk told Charlotte the men had chosen to retreat. Unfortunately, so did the earl’s son—in the opposite direction.

This time she easily caught him. “Look, if you’ll just stop a moment,” she said with what little breath she could manage, “then it won’t be so hard to say what I need to say.”

He halted so quickly that Charlotte slammed into him. A fortuitous accident, given her childhood talents.

“Go home, little girl.” He took off again at a faster pace. “I’m trying to find my—” He swiped at his forehead. “Just go home. I’ll hold no grudge, nor do I hope to recall your face. How’s that?”

“That is not acceptable,” Charlotte said. “Not acceptable at all.”

The earl’s son kept walking, but Charlotte smiled. He wouldn’t get far now.

“I advise you to return and hear me out,” she called. “I’ve quite a heartfelt apology planned, but I cannot give it to a moving target.”

“Not necessary,” he said curtly.

“I assure you it is,” she protested. “And besides, you’ll need your pocket watch eventually.” The Hambly fellow turned to face her, his hands moving to his pockets, and Charlotte dangled the gold timepiece at arm’s length. “Fair trade, sir. One lovely watch for one heartfelt apology.”

Shaking his head, he moved toward her. “How did you do that?”

Charlotte waited until he reached her then dangled the watch over his outstretched hand. “A lady never divulges her secrets. Now, about that apology.”

The Englishman met her stare with his good eye, the bruising under the other eye continuing to darken. “Go on.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said. “My uncle, well, he has a temper.”

He snatched the watch from her hand. “As do I.”

“Look, Martin.” She paused to look up at him. “I can call you Martin, can’t I?”

“Martin?” His laugh held no humor. “How did you learn my name?”

Charlotte toyed with the fan then shrugged. “Your mother thought we should be introduced.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her grandfather’s carriage roll to a stop across the street. Gennie appeared to be watching but seemed in no hurry to join them. Beside the driver sat the servant, his head down.

“Of course.” The Englishman shook his head as the beginnings of a wry smile dawned on his face. “And Martin Hambly was called out right in the middle of Mother’s ballroom with Father watching.” Another chuckle, and this time Martin truly seemed amused. “Almost worth it, I’d say.”

Odd that he referred to himself in such a way. But then, nobles could be an odd bunch, including certain members of her own family.

“Again, I do apologize. And you’ll likely hear from my uncle as well.” She paused. “Or at least you should.”

“Miss Beck, you’ve accomplished what you came for.” He adjusted his hat then gave her a curt bow. “Apology accepted and duly noted. I’d be much obliged if you’d forget what happened tonight. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll—”

“Forget?” She shook her head. “Unlikely. You see, I’m not in the habit of ruining reputations. I warrant I’ll never forget you, Martin Hambly.”

“A pity you didn’t get to meet my brother, Alex. He’s quite unforgettable as well. And definitely the more handsome of the two, current injuries notwithstanding.”

Charlotte squared her shoulders. “I would say perhaps another time, but I doubt the Hamblys and Becks will spend much time together now that I’ve caused such a fuss.”