Chapter Eleven
The previous day, when it had become clear the scheme Con and Worthington had formed had fallen through, Con offered his friend a neatish bay mare.
From his gray gelding, he surveyed the coaches in the front of his mother’s house. “Better to ride than be stuck in a coach.”
Glancing at the carriage in question, Worthington nodded. “Much better.”
They moved to the front of the conveyance carrying his mother, Lady Worthington, Mrs. Addison, and Charlotte. A second carriage holding their dressers, and the third vehicle transporting his and Worthington’s valets had departed earlier to arrive in Town before their mistresses and masters as had his groom, who was driving Con’s curricle.
The coach was flanked by two outriders. Con didn’t believe anyone would attempt to attack them, but there was no point in tempting fate. It had not been kind to him recently.
He was about to give the order to start when his mother decided she needed an item her maid had packed, but soon they were on their way.
Yesterday afternoon when Worthington had spoken to his wife and Lady Charlotte, the conversation had not gone as he and Con planned. Shortly thereafter, Worthington had informed Con that despite their best efforts to keep Charlotte in the country, his wife had insisted it would be better to return to Town, especially as there was already talk.
If he ever saw Braxton again, Con was going to plant the man a facer.
Later, when their little group had met in the drawing room before dinner, Con’s mother had emphatically agreed. “Fight fire with fire, my son. If you and Charlotte are present, all gossip will soon fade.”
As he and Worthington cantered in front of the coach, a problem came to Con that none of the others had considered. “You do realize I have not been invited to any of the events Lady Charlotte will attend.”
“That is the least of your worries,” Worthington retorted. “News of the engagement will prompt many ladies to send you a card. Not to mention your mother, my wife, and Lady Bellamny will be spreading their version of the story during morning visits.”
No doubt dragging Charlotte around with them. Con might end up with a resigned wife, although trapped was likely a better word, and that was not good enough. Not for him.
He wanted to see the look she had given him when he’d rescued her. He wanted to sup on her soft lips and have them open to him willingly, and he damn sure did not wish to be berated for having had a mistress—an arrangement he must end at the earliest possible moment.
Blast it all to hell!
He hadn’t wanted to wed yet, but now that it was inevitable he wanted Charlotte to wish to marry him. He didn’t know another female who would have refused him. That the one lady who did was his betrothed was completely unacceptable.
He would make her understand that she was mistaken in his character, and his first step would be to convince her that high-flyers enjoyed their trade. It would, naturally, be a shock to Charlotte. After all, gently bred young ladies had been raised—for good reason—to believe conjugal relations between a man and a woman were proper only in marriage.
The primary difficulty was her knowledge of Miss Betsy’s house. He was certain Charlotte had overreacted to what she had heard. “Do you happen to know what Lady Charlotte was told about the women at Miss Betsy’s brothel?”
“Knowing Dotty Merton, more than she should have been told.” Worthington’s lips flattened into a tight line. “The situation was horrific. Ladies had been abducted and forced into prostitution either by threats of multiple rapes or drugged with opium. Their children were either murdered or sold into kid kens.”
Bloody hell! “Ladies? Are you sure?”
“Yes, ladies.” Worthington’s gaze was hard and steady. “I am only telling you this because you need help with Charlotte, and you will soon be part of the family. It must go no further.” He waited until Con nodded, still unable to understand how women of his own social status could have been in a brothel. “We found them through a woman who ran a boarding house for the families of military officers who could not take their families with them overseas and whose families had nowhere else to go. The ladies who were with child were given a drink made to abort the child. Some of the women died. Their children, usually ones too young to go to school, were sold to criminal gangs.”
“Good God.” Con felt as if his breath had been sucked out of him. As if Jackson himself had landed a punch in his stomach. Of course he knew not all women in the profession wanted to be there. Still, that was better than being on the streets. Yet for ladies to have suffered in such a way was unbelievable. That Charlotte, a complete innocent, knew about it made him feel slightly ill. “I don’t understand why anyone would have . . .”
“My wife thinks it is better for ladies to know of the dangers that could befall them and others.” Worthington shrugged. “I don’t disagree. Yet I do think some of the more lurid details could have been left out of the telling.”
Con was still having difficulty understanding how gently bred women could have been used so horribly. “What happened to the ladies?”
“My cousin Merton and his wife are caring for them.” Worthington’s brows drew together. “We are still waiting for most of their husbands to return.”
“And the children?”
“Merton has hired men to find them. There’s been some success. Jemmy, for example, though we haven’t found his family yet.”
“Wait a moment.” Jemmy had said Charlotte had found him. “Why was Charlotte involved with that?”
“Dotty and Charlotte have been best friends since they were in leading strings. When Dotty decided the process was taking too long, she decided to oversee one of the raids. Naturally, Charlotte accompanied her.”
Con opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again.
Worthington’s eyes began to twinkle with mirth. “When Dotty told Merton what she was going to do, he was speechless as well. Short of locking her in her room, there was no way he could stop her. He was in the coach and they were well guarded.”
“I still do not understand how Charlotte saved the boy.”
“From what I understand, Jemmy was being taken away by one of the villains, and Charlotte shoved open the coach door into his face. He dropped Jemmy and Charlotte snatched him up. If you want more details, you’ll have to apply to her.”
That explained why she was not in a panic when Con rescued her. In fact, the only thing that seemed to overset her was him.
Still, the stuff about Miss Betsy was far and away worse than Con had thought it could be. It was no wonder Charlotte deplored men who frequented brothels. Although, the Covent Garden abbesses got the majority of the blame, and rightfully so: Without customers, those types of houses would not exist. Nevertheless, and this was a point that must be made, those poor women were not the same as the Cyprians he hired. All of his mistresses had come to him willingly. In fact, high-flyers chose their protectors more frequently than the gentleman chose the mistress. It was as different as night and day from the horrors she had been told about. That was what Charlotte must be made to understand. Con keeping a mistress was not at all the same as a man hiring a woman who had no choice.
About two hours later their cavalcade stopped to rest the horses and to partake in a light nuncheon. Con assisted his mother, then Charlotte, down the coach steps. Her countenance might well have been a mask for all the emotion she showed. And, although she didn’t shrink from his touch, she was as cold and stiff as a block of ice. To make matters worse, if that was even possible, his mother spoke of nothing but how happy she was to be welcoming Charlotte into their family and the ball she would plan in their honor. He would have to talk to his mother. There was no reason to make his betrothed more recalcitrant than she was already.
Once in the private parlor he had hired, the cat resided in Charlotte’s lap, eagerly lapping up pieces of meat and cheese. After the animal’s hunger had been satisfied, the little beast emitted a large rumbling sound as Charlotte stroked the thing and effectively withdrew from the conversation. Con wondered if he’d ever receive as much attention from her as the damned cat did.
Unable to talk to Mama about mentioning her plans, he attempted to turn the conversation whenever she opened her mouth. By the time he was back on his horse, he had the beginnings of a headache. In the past, the only time his head had hurt was from overindulgence, and his valet had a remedy that cleared his head in short order. He had a feeling this ache would not be so easily cured.
* * *
Thank God she was finally home!
Charlotte had just set her feet on the pavement when Jemmy collided with her, his thin arms wrapping around her waist. “They told me you was safe, but I had to see fer meself.”
“I am safe and well.” She patted the child on his head. “And I’m very happy to see that you arrived home unhurt. You were quite brave climbing on the coach as you did. Thank you.”
His face reddened as he looked up at her. “Weren’t nothin’.” He peered around her as if searching for something or someone. “Did the gent bring you back?”
“Ah, yes. He came back to Town with us but went to his own home.” She had never been so glad to get rid of two people in her life.
“I knew he was a good’un. Gave me more than the coach fare and hackney.” He lowered his voice. “Should I give him back the rest?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. In fact, I am positive he would want you to keep it.” She couldn’t imagine even a man such as Kenilworth would quibble over a few pennies.
Jemmy’s wide smile showed another missing tooth. Charlotte would make sure the stable master had noticed it and given the child tand-fé. After all, just because he still insisted on sleeping in the stables there was no reason he should not receive money for his tooth. They would have to move him permanently into the house soon.
“Do you think I’ll have a chance to thank him for the extra?”
“Yes, indeed.” And much too soon for her comfort. She ruffled the boy’s hair and placed a kiss on the top of his head.
The next thing she knew, Jemmy was joined by her sister, Mary, her best friend and Matt’s sister Theo, and the rest of the children. The noise level rose until Matt ordered them all inside. “You may ask your questions in the house. Go on, all of you.”
The two youngest pulled her up the steps and down the corridor into the morning room, demanding to know everything that had occurred. Trays of tea and food arrived as the children settled themselves to hear the story. Phillip, eight years old and her youngest brother, sat with Theodora, also eight, and Mary, five. Matt’s sister Madeline, age twelve, was in between the twins, Alice and Eleanor, also twelve years of age. His second eldest sister, Augusta, who was fifteen and Charlotte’s brother Walter, fourteen, took chairs on either side of Charlotte. The only one missing was their brother Charlie, Earl of Stanwood, who was attending Eton.
After a brief moment of silence the questions started, and Charlotte held up her hand to quiet them. “This will be much easier if you will allow me to tell you what happened. After that, if you have questions, you may ask them.”
Several minutes later, Augusta’s brows drew together. “I really did not think the lessons we received would be of much use. Now I shall have to start practicing in earnest.”
“What lessons?” Alice, Eleanor, and Madeline asked as one.
“Ones you will receive before you come out.” Charlotte glanced at the others. “Are there any other questions?”
Mary, sitting at Charlotte’s feet, tugged her gown. “I was scared.”
As she pulled Mary into her lap, tears filled her eyes for the second time that day.
“Me too,” Theo said, making room for herself on Charlotte’s lap.
“Me three.” Phillip stood next to Charlotte, placing his arm around her shoulders.
“I was, as well, but everything is fine now.” She gave them each a kiss, then set Mary and Theo down and stood. “Let me wash the dust off me and see to Collette. We will speak again later.”
As Charlotte left the room, Walter strode with her down the corridor. “I’m glad you’re safe. We were very worried about you.”
She would have drawn him into an embrace, but lately he had been eschewing them as too babyish. “Don’t tell the others, but I was terrified.”
“I won’t.”
Charlotte thought his posture became a little straighter. “I’m glad you confided in me.”
She was too. He was on his way to becoming a good man. She’d miss him when he joined Charlie at school in the autumn.
A few minutes later, she set the basket down on the floor of her bedchamber, before removing her bonnet and throwing it on the dressing table. Collette poked her head up and, after realizing she was finally home, hopped out of the basket and went behind the screen.
Finally with her family again, it was the first time Charlotte had felt completely safe in days. The thought stopped her. It was not the truth. Before she had known who Kenilworth was, she had felt safe with him. Safe enough to fall asleep against him and let him kiss her.
She yanked off her gloves, throwing them on the table. All that proved was that she had been tired and was a much worse judge of character than she’d previously thought. If only she had waited for her footman to catch up with her, or not gone at all . . . Charlotte took a large breath. There was nothing to be gained by rethinking over and over again what had happened or what she could have done to change the results. The only thing she might have any control over at all was marrying Kenilworth.
She turned her mind to the plans Lady Kenilworth and Grace had made on the way to Town. Grace’s “at home” was in three days. Between now and then, Lady Kenilworth, Grace, and Charlotte would spend the days making morning visits, presenting what her sister called a united front. By the time she and Kenilworth made their first formal appearance together, no one could possibly think anything about Charlotte’s betrothal was unusual, especially with her ladyship so ecstatic about the engagement.
That, though, had brought up the question of how they had met. Naturally, the truth would not do. After much discussion, it was decided they would say Matt had introduced them. Considering her sister Louisa and Louisa’s new husband, Gideon, had met in Matt’s study, that was the simplest solution.
Next was the problem of the gentleman himself. Somehow, Charlotte must find a way to make him understand that she had no intention of marrying him and that having a mistress, a woman he bought for her body, was morally depraved. Regrettably, he appeared to be convinced he was doing nothing wrong.
Charlotte glanced at the clock on the mantel. There was plenty of time for her to practice the piano before tea. Playing would help clear her thoughts. She might even come up with a persuasive argument to make his lordship change his hardheaded mind and agree with her.
May entered Charlotte’s bedchamber from the dressing room, carrying her favorite Pomona-green day dress. “Pardon for being so long, my lady. I wanted to get everything put away. Let’s get you out of your carriage gown.”
After changing one garment for the other, she opened the door. “If anyone wants me, I’ll be in the music room.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Charlotte.”
“Dotty!” Thank God. Just the person Charlotte wanted to see. “I am so glad you are here. How did you know I had returned, and when did you arrive in Town?”
Laughing, her best friend in the world took Charlotte’s hands and squeezed them. “Let us go into the parlor, and I shall tell you.”
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Very much, and if your cook has any of his biscuits, they would be welcome as well. I cannot stay long, but I will see you at dinner this evening.”
She nodded to May, who rushed out the door as Dotty and Charlotte strolled into the Young Ladies’ Parlor.
“Are you happy?” Charlotte searched her friend’s face, pleased with what she saw. “You look to be.”
“It is hard for even me to believe, but I have never been happier.” Dotty’s smile seemed to light the room. “Dominic is everything I could have asked for in a husband and partner.”
Dominic, Marquis of Merton, was a cousin on Matt’s side of Charlotte’s family. Before he’d fallen in love with Dotty he was so stuffy and puffed up in his own consequence that no one in the family liked him. “That is only because you changed him.”
She gave a light shrug. “I merely encouraged him to be himself and not what his uncle had taught him to be.”
The tea arrived and Charlotte poured.
Once they had each taken a sip of the strong gunpowder tea, and Dotty had had a bite of the lemon biscuits she liked so much, she said, “I received your letter, but I’d rather hear from you exactly what occurred.”
Charlotte told her about the abduction, the kiss, finding Lady Bellamny at the inn, and the betrothal. “I have decided to wait until sometime late in the summer or autumn to break the engagement. Even after what Lord Braxton put around, I should still be able to call off the wedding.” When her friend’s brows lowered, she rushed on, “I am quite sure Lord Kenilworth will not mind”—even though that was not what he had said. She was positive he would change his mind—“and, after what I know about the poor ladies at the brothel, I cannot wed a man who hires women for . . . well, you know.”
Dotty nodded thoughtfully. “Dominic tells me he is rather famous for his mistresses, but that he has never been known to frequent brothels.”
“What does it matter?” Dotty’s answer took Charlotte by surprise. And why was her friend not agreeing with her? “As far as I see, one is much the same as the other.”
“Are you concerned he will continue to keep a mistress after he marries?”
The question stopped Charlotte mid-sip. “I have given it no consideration at all.”
A few moments passed in silence, then Dotty set her cup down. “Do you remember our discussions about Dominic? How his political views and his votes in the Lords were causing much suffering among the poor?”
“Yes, and you said you could never marry a man who believed as he did.”
“Precisely. Then he began to realize the misery he caused others.” Reaching out, Dotty took Charlotte’s hands again. “Do you not think Lord Kenilworth could change his views as well? Perhaps he could be made to see how wrong his thinking is?” Her friend gave a sly smile. “You did enjoy the kiss, and from what I hear he is quite handsome and eligible.”
She had and he was. Maybe if he could admit he was wrong she could reconsider him, but Kenilworth was so sure of himself. He was worse than Merton had been. “I have tried. He will admit that there might be some women who do not like their trade, but only in brothels. He is totally convinced that courtesans enjoy what they do, and nothing I have said thus far has changed his mind. In fact, he thinks I am being naïve in my beliefs and they have no merit.”
“In that case, you must find a way to change his point of view. Show him, as I showed Dominic, the harm he is causing.”
“But how?” Charlotte wanted to wail. Talking to him was like banging her head against a stone wall.
“You’ll think of a way.” Dotty grinned. “There are few ladies more clever than you.” She tilted her head toward the door. “I shall leave you before Dominic invades.”
“I’ll see you out.”
After saying farewell to Dotty, Charlotte finally made her way to the music room.
The moment she set her hands on the keys, the strain she had been under seemed to melt away. As she expected, her mind was able to open, ideas flew around her head, and she found the perfect solution to her most pressing problem.