Page 39

“It’s Beatrice,” she said. “She’s…” She bit her lip, wondering how exactly to explain what was going on.

“You’ve heard something?” Henry asked. “What?”

“No, not that…” She pursed her lips, deciding that it was best just to say it. And so she did.

She explained quickly what was being said about her sister, all the rumors, making sure to point out that there were likely even more and that by now, half the ton was sure to have heard at least one of them. And as she did, she watched her husband closely, wondering how he might take it. Surely, he would be as concerned as she was? Surely, he would be angered?

“Huh,” was all he ended up saying.

The pace of the music began to increase, and Henry made sure to follow.

“That’s it?” Charlotte said sharply. “Why aren’t you more upset?”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“I thought you’d be… angrier. That you might…”

“Might what?” He frowned at her. “I assure you that I don’t take these rumors lightly, Charlotte, but short of refuting them, there isn’t much I can do about it. And believe me, if anyone knows the sting of gossip, it’s me.”

“Yes, I know.” She sighed, suddenly feeling frustrated because she had hoped her husband might have said or done something to make her feel better. “It’s just so frustrating. I’ve told everyone I spoke with that it isn’t true, but they don’t seem to want to listen.”

“They never do.” He chuckled again.

“I wish you wouldn’t laugh. It’s not funny.”

He shrugged. “We might as well. For now, that’s all we can do, isn’t it? At least until she is found. Once she is, and once everyone sees that nothing is wrong, the rumor will be set right. I promise you.”

He was right, of course. Not that it made her feel any better. Even now, dancing with her husband, looking the very picture of the perfect couple, Charlotte could sense those in the crowd eyeing them and wondering as to the real reason they had married. A marriage of convenience was one thing, but one caused by a sister who was secretly pregnant or locked up in a dungeon or had been caught in bed with another man was something else entirely!

“Has there been any word at all?” she asked desperately. “Your friend, Oliver. Has he…?”

A shake of the head as the Duke led her to the right, lifting her off her feet, spinning her about, and then planting her back down gently. “Not yet.”

She clicked her tongue. “And he’s been looking? He’s been to the places I suggested?”

“He has been.”

She clicked her tongue again. “Perhaps I should speak with him? If I was to?—”

“To what?” he cut her off, a sharpness to his tone that she hadn’t expected. It caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up in a way they hadn’t all week. “What do you think you can suggest that he hasn’t thought of?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “But it can’t hurt. I know my sister better than anyone. In fact, what if one night I go with him when he looks for her? Surely then?—”

“No, Charlotte,” he said, a growl to his voice now, indicating his rising annoyance. “I won’t have my wife spending her evening in taverns all over London.”

“But we have to try!” she said desperately.

“And as I said, we are.”

“Not hard enough,” she said before she could stop herself. “If we were, if this friend of yours was, then my sister would have been found. I really must insist that?—”

“I said no.”

It was short and sharp. Dismissive and final. Paired with an angry glare of warning, a fire behind his eyes that she hadn’t seen in weeks. The two had been getting along so well lately that it had been a while since she’d angered him so, and it caught her by surprise and had her wilting.

“I’m sorry…” she said meekly, even if she wasn’t really. That fire she saw in him, the one it lit in herself, was what she had craved all week. A mere glimpse but a welcome one. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. Oliver will find her, and my word should be enough.”