Chapter Six
Charlotte edged a black-silk covered finger under the amethyst choker around her neck. It was one of her favorite pieces, but tonight it felt like a fist wrapped around her throat. The blasted thing was too tight, the jewels too heavy. To make matters worse, Sarah had tugged at her stays with ruthless zeal, as if she believed tight stays could contain Charlotte’s wickedness.
Dear, foolish old thing.
Charlotte reached behind her neck and released the clasp. The heavy choker fell into her palm in a pile of glittering purple stones, and she tossed it into her reticule. Ah, much better. If she could fit her corset in there, she’d shove that in as well, but as it was she’d have to make do without the use of her lungs tonight. A pity, for she’d quite like to be able to breathe when she faced the ton this evening.
Once she stepped into her box, every head would turn in her direction. Every eye would fix upon her, silence would reign for one awful moment as every conversation ceased. Then the whispers would begin, just as they always did. Before she’d even taken her seat, her name would be on the lips of every gossip in London.
In other words, it would be very much like every other night this season.
With one difference. He was here.
Well, what of it? She’d already surrendered Bedford Square to him. Surely she wasn’t about to give over Drury Lane, too? No. She would march into her box and take her proper place as society’s most notorious widow since Mrs. Fitzherbert. Perhaps she hadn’t set out at the start of the season to become a notorious widow, but she didn’t deny she’d earned those stares, those whispers. Scandal was a small enough price to pay for distractions that served her well.
Julian West could go to the devil, and the rest of the ton right along with him.
“For goodness’ sakes, Aurelie.” Lady Annabel’s voice carried into the hallway from Charlotte’s theater box. “You’ll give Lord Ambrose an apoplexy if you continue to lean over the edge of the box in that lewd manner. He’s staring so intently at your bosom he’ll need a surgeon to remove his opera glass from his eye socket.”
Aurelie gave a Gallic sniff. “He’s the lewd one, not I, darling. It’s nothing to do with me if he chooses to behave like an over-eager stallion. Let him stare.”
Charlotte tiptoed closer to the entrance to her box, a grin curving her lips. The ton might gawk and shake their heads over her tonight, but that was no reason to hover here in the corridor like a timid rabbit. She wouldn’t have to suffer the stares alone. Her friends were waiting for her.
The wicked widows had arrived.
“I don’t believe Lady Ambrose is as understanding as you are, Aurelie,” Lissie said, a laugh in her voice. “She looks ready to do him an injury.”
Lady Annabel snickered. “Only because he doesn’t stare at her bosom. At least, not with such pointed admiration.”
“Well, my dear,” Aurelie drawled. “Can you blame him?”
“If one can judge by the look on Lady Ambrose’s face,” Lissie said, “He’ll need a surgeon no matter what Aurelie does. Carry on, my dear Aurelie.”
“I shall, indeed.”
Charlotte swept into the box in a rustle of dark purple silk, her chin high. “Bosoms and surgeons already, ladies? The first act hasn’t even begun.”
Lady Annabel turned to her with a smile. “Ah, Charlotte. There you are. I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind and joined your sister in her box, after all.”
“What, and forgo the pleasure of being gawked at by Lord Ambrose? Oh, good heavens, no. Besides, there’s no room for me in Ellie’s box tonight.”
Or any other night while Julian remained in London.
Aurelie lifted the glass to her eyes and pointed it in the direction of Cam and Ellie’s box. “It does look as if the whole of London is in your sister’s box, Charlotte. Mon dieu, there are a great many Sutherlands, Somersets, and Wests, are there not?”
Lady Annabel raised a delicate blond eyebrow. “Yes, and bound to be more every year, for they keep multiplying. It’s almost indecent, but one can hardly blame the ladies. The Sutherland gentlemen are rather devastating. Don’t you think so, Lissie? And Mr. West is delicious—”
She was interrupted by an excited cry from Aurelie. “Indeed, my dears, both Mr. Wests are delicious! But I think you already know that, don’t you, ma petite?” She gave Charlotte an impish grin.
“What other Mr. West?” Lissie asked. “Oh my goodness, you don’t mean—”
“Captain Julian West.” Charlotte sank into her chair and twitched her skirts into place around her. “Yes, yes—that’s what she means, Lissie. For goodness’ sake, Aurelie. Stop staring at him.”
Lissie’s eyes widened. “What, the gallant Captain West? Why, they’ve been raving about him in the papers. Something about how he single-handedly beat back three French dragoons and saved half his regiment.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t a newspaper, dear. It was a scandal sheet.”
Lissie ignored this. “Even better, he’s said to be devastatingly handsome. Give me those glasses, Aurelie. I want to get a look at him.”
“No need for you to stare, as well.” Charlotte snapped open her fan. “You’ve already had a look at him, Lissie, and a good long one, at that.”
Lissie made a grab for the glasses. “Nonsense. I believe I’d recall it if I had.”
Aurelie slapped Lissie’s hand away. “Indeed you have, my dear. He’s the devil!”
Charlotte smothered a laugh. That was one way of putting it.
Lissie rolled her eyes. “No, Aurelie—I said hero, not devil. They’re not the same thing in English. Or in French, come to think of it.”
Aurelie dismissed this comment with an impatient flick of her fingers. “No, no. He’s Charlotte’s devil! The man from the brothel. The one who tied her to the bed, yes?”
“For God’s sake. He didn’t tie me—”
“It’s him, I tell you. See for yourself.” Aurelie held out the glasses.
Lissie made a grab for them, but Annabel was closer. She seized them first and raised them to her eyes. The ladies watched her silently, waiting for the verdict—all except Charlotte, who knew very well her friend would find Captain Julian West at the other end.
At last Annabel lowered the glasses and held them out to Lissie, who peered through them, then nodded. “One and the same. His isn’t a face a lady forgets, is it?”
“No. His figure, either.” Annabel gave Charlotte a sly look. “Quite a dashing example of manhood from every angle, in fact.”
All three ladies turned to Charlotte, and three pairs of eyebrows rose simultaneously. Charlotte gave her fan a casual flick, but when she remained silent, Lissie held the opera glasses out to her. “Would you care to have a look, Charlotte?”
No, she would not, and she would have preferred they didn’t either, though of course it was inevitable they’d discover the truth sooner or later. Charlotte shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. You’re quite right. Captain Julian West is, indeed, the devil.”
Annabel leaned forward. “Well, this is an interesting new development. Why didn’t you say so at once?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Because it’s far less interesting than you’d imagine. Captain West is my brother-in-law’s cousin, and of course that means he’s also my sister Amelia’s cousin as well, though she’s always called him uncle because of the disparity in their ages.”
Aurelie hovered so close to the edge of her seat she was in danger of toppling off her chair and into Lord Ambrose’s lap below. “And?”
Charlotte blinked innocently. “And what?”
Lissie threw her hands up in the air. “And what else, of course! Don’t try and tell us he went to the trouble of dragging you upstairs, gagging you, and tying you to a bed because he’s your sister’s husband’s niece’s uncle. Or cousin! Or whatever it was you called him.”
“For pity’s sake.” Charlotte scowled. “If you must know, there’s a bit of a…history between us.”
Annabel’s eyes widened. “Oh, we must know, and a great deal more than that, my dear. What kind of history?”
Charlotte studied the three rapt faces before her and pinched her lips into a prim line. “A lady never tells.”
Lissie snorted. “Perhaps not, but what has that to do with the four of us?”
Damnation. She may as well have it out now, for they’d never cease teasing her until she did. “Oh, very well. It’s a sordid history, of course. What else? I thought myself in love with him at one time; then I found out he’d lied to me, and he wasn’t the man I thought he was.”
Annabel sighed. “They never are, are they?”
Charlotte’s chest tightened. Hadley had been, for all the good it had done him.
“Yes? You were amoureux and then he wasn’t the man you thought, and then what?” Aurelie was pouting like a child whose bedtime story has been interrupted. “What did he lie about?”
“Well.” Charlotte hesitated. “It’s rather complicated.”
“Ah. Even better.” Annabel twitched her fan back and forth. “Well, go on with it. You don’t suppose we’re here to watch the play, do you?”
“Oh, very well.” Charlotte chewed her lip and tried to think of a way to explain it without sullying Cam’s good name. “My sister’s courtship with Mr. West was a bit…unusual.”
“Indeed?” Annabel asked. “Unusual how?”
There really was no flattering way to say it. “Well, you see, Mr. West, he, ah, that is to say, he—well, he tried to blackmail my sister into marrying him.”
Three mouths dropped open, and then Aurelie gave a little screech of glee. “Blackmail? Why, how delicious.”
“It’s all right now, of course,” Charlotte hastened to add. “They’re very much in love.”
“Anyone can see that. But dear me, blackmail.” Lissie looked impressed. “Mr. West is much naughtier than he looks. What of Captain West? Is he as wonderfully wicked as his cousin?”
Charlotte gazed at her friends’ curious faces and all at once she couldn’t speak. Her story wasn’t what they wanted. It wasn’t wonderful or romantic, or even particularly wicked. It was a dull old story—a man pretends to love a woman and breaks her heart, and she turns around and breaks someone else’s—someone who doesn’t deserve it.
And then he dies. The end.
The same story had been told a thousand times before.
A satin-swathed hand covered hers, and she looked over to find Annabel’s thoughtful blue eyes fixed on her face. “Captain West, Charlotte?”
“Ah, well.” Charlotte forced a smile. “You can imagine the rest. He pretended to care for me to forward his cousin’s plot to marry Eleanor. I discovered the truth—the heroine always does, you know—and I sent him away.”
“My goodness.” Aurelie’s eyes were huge. “What happened then?”
“You know what happened, Aurelie. I married Hadley and became a wife; then Hadley died and I became a widow, and now I’ve met the three of you, and I’ve become a wicked widow. Captain West went off to France and became a hero, and there’s an end to it.”
Lissie cocked her head to one side. “The Wicked Widow and the War Hero. That could be the title of a scandalous novel, couldn’t it?”
Annabel laughed. “Oh, it could. I’d read it.”
“But why read it, dearest, when you can watch it unfold before your eyes?” Aurelie plucked the opera glasses from Lissie’s hand and resumed her study of Ellie’s box. “Charlotte is here, and Captain West is just there, and so another chapter begins.”
Charlotte closed her fan with a firm snap. She’d put an end to this here and now. “I don’t like to disappoint you, Aurelie, but that story ended long ago. Captain West is only in London temporarily, and while’s he’s here you can be certain he’ll stay well away from me.”
Lissie gave her a measuring look. “He didn’t stay away from you in the whorehouse the other night. What about that little drama? It has the makings of a rather exciting chapter, if you ask me.”
Charlotte pressed her lips together. “In a novel, perhaps, and a bad one, at that. It’s far less diverting in real life.”
Lissie smiled. “Less diverting? I should think it was just the opposite.”
“In a novel with a different hero and heroine, perhaps. But you’re mistaken, my dear Lissie, if you think the brothel episode had anything to do with me. He acted on my family’s behalf, not out of any desire to save me from my wickedness.”
“But he’s a hero, isn’t he?” Aurelie waved the opera glasses for emphasis. “Why shouldn’t he save you?”
“A war hero, yes, but I doubt he equates a whorehouse with a battlefield. No, I can assure you he acted for Cam and Ellie’s sakes alone. No doubt he won’t do so again, and just as well, for I don’t wish to be saved by Captain West, or indeed by anyone.”
It was far too late for that.
“Do you mean to say he’ll ignore you while he’s in London?” Aurelie asked. She was peering at him through the glasses again.
“Yes. Just so.”
Annabel rolled her eyes. “Come now, Charlotte. Are you telling us he’ll sit on the other side of the theater in your sister and brother-in-law’s box and never acknowledge you? That’s rather a pointed snub, is it not?”
“Quite. Captain West’s intention is just that—to make it a point not to notice me.”
“Hmmm. You say he doesn’t notice you.” Annabel caught and held Charlotte’s gaze. “I can’t agree, my dear. He’s fixated on you even now.”
“Fixated? What nonsense. You see him with your own eyes, Annabel. The entire theater is gaping at us, but he hasn’t glanced this way once.”
“Not that you care, of course,” Lissie interrupted, green eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Oh, I see him, all right. I see a gentleman determined not to notice you,” said Annabel. “That is in itself a particular kind of attention. Why bother to snub a lady one cares nothing for?”
“You try to make it sound romantic, but it’s a snub, Annabel, not a bouquet of hothouse flowers and a waltz. Indeed, I believe he quite despises me.”
Annabel smiled. “Oh my. That does sound promising. There’s nothing more passionate than a man’s hate, Charlotte.”
“And nothing more implacable. Even his love.”
Dear God. How maudlin she sounded. Annabel would never cease teasing her now.
Annabel didn’t hear her, however, for Lord Devon entered the box at that moment, and the ladies were immediately diverted. For all Annabel’s talk of cutting his acquaintance, the widows delighted in Devon. They adored a rake, especially a debauched, handsome one, and Devon was all three.
“My lord!” Aurelie clapped her hands with delight. “At last. We expected you earlier, you know.”
Devon laughed, then bowed to each lady in turn. “Good evening, ladies. I would have paid my respects sooner, but Lady Hadley’s brother-in-law was glaring at me from the other side of the theater. He’s rather bearish—have you noticed? I was afraid he’d leap upon me if I attempted to move toward your box.”
“Don’t tell us you’re afraid of Mr. West, Devon.” Lissie gave him an innocent look as he bent over her hand.
He grinned. “Terrified. Have you seen the size of him? I hear he’s a crack shot too, though it’s difficult to imagine how those bear-like paws could pull a trigger.”
Lady Annabel held out a hand to Lord Devon. “He is very large.”
Devon brushed his lips over Annabel’s glove. “Indeed he is. Can’t you do something about that, Lady Hadley?”
Charlotte laughed, and the tension began to ease from her shoulders. Devon talked a good deal of nonsense, but he did it with such charm it was impossible not to be amused by him. “What shall I do, my lord? Hide his boots?”
“No, no. That won’t suffice, for he’ll still be too tall, even without his boots. I’m afraid you’ll have to hide his legs.”
Charlotte laughed again, and Devon’s bright blue eyes moved over her with open appreciation. He took her hand and raised it slowly to his mouth, then held her eyes as he brushed her glove with slightly parted lips. “You, my lady, are worth the risk. How lovely you look this evening.”
Charlotte felt a trickle of warmth in her lower belly. Devon hadn’t made any secret of his interest in her. He was pursuing her, and she… Well, she hadn’t made up her mind yet, but of all the scoundrels London had to offer, a lady could do far worse than Lord Devon.
He released her hand. “But I didn’t come here to discuss Mr. West’s boots or his legs, as diverting as they are. I came to see if you ladies might enjoy further entertainment after the play tonight.”
Annabel glanced at the other ladies. “Indeed? What kind of entertainment would that be, my lord?”
“Nothing terribly interesting, I’m afraid—just a visit to a gaming hell.”
“Need I remind you, Devon,” Lady Annabel said, “That ladies aren’t welcome at gaming hells?”
Devon smiled. “You will be at this one. It’s not a proper hell—more like a private one.”
Lissie’s eyes narrowed. “Is this another west end wager, Devon? How dreadful you are to keep tempting us. We were almost caught out during the last one.”
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. She had been caught out, and rather thoroughly at that.
“Now, my lady, no money changed hands between us the other night, so it wasn’t a true wager, and it’s nothing so scandalous tonight— just a little harmless entertainment between friends.”
Charlotte hesitated. Her family wouldn’t like it if she left with Devon, of course. Even now Cam was eyeing him with a murderous expression, but that was nothing new, and she had no intention of retiring early again this evening. “A private gaming hell, my lord? That sounds entertaining.”
“More so if you’ll accompany us, my lady.” He smiled down at her. “Shall I give the direction to your coachman?”
The other ladies murmured their assent, and Charlotte smiled up at him. “By all means.”
Lord Devon bowed, then pressed his lips once more to Charlotte’s glove. “Wonderful. Until then, Lady Hadley.”