Page 36 of A Lady’s Dangerous Secret (Scandalous Secrets #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY

J ames did not know how long he remained motionless in the library, but he finally dragged himself up from the sofa.

He did not feel any closer to reconciling his feelings toward his absentee father, but at least he had taken time to be alone with his thoughts.

He spied a decanter near the lit fireplace and walked over, his shoulders slumped.

He poured himself a brandy and drank it in one gulp.

He needed fortification for what lay ahead.

James was an officer. He never backed down from a challenge, including one involving his long-lost father.

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before he left the library and went back to the room where Lottie recovered and where he met his father, the man who deserted them.

As James approached, the voices drifting from the ballroom sounded softer. They must have headed into supper.

The Duke and Arthur were bent deep in discussion, heads bent, with Arthur gesticulating. James approached the two men and cleared his throat.

Arthur looked up. “I’m sorry about your aunt.

We were trying to understand the meaning of the receipt for the paintings by the mysterious artist. We think Roberts and perhaps Westcliffe’s father may have been hiding something else, though we can’t determine what that may be.

” James did not have the patience to hypothesize at the moment.

He had just learned so much emotionally-laden information, so he just nodded with his customary stern look.

“Right.” Arthur clasped his hands together. “We were waiting for you to return to address the more important task at hand. Who is after my sister?”

James walled off his emotions as best as he could to focus on Lottie. “It must be related to Roberts, Nott, whatever you want to call the bastard. And maybe it’s related to the Duchy of Westcliffe.”

“I know of no present connection with Roberts and the duchy, so the Runners you hired need to keep searching for an answer,” the Duke responded.

“They will,” James said.

The Duke looked intently at him. “I must see your mother. I never stopped loving her, and she is still my wife.”

“That would mean Captain Hughes is your rightful heir and your daughters are illegitimate,” Arthur said.

“Though your first wife was believed dead, so I’m sure the courts would look favorably on the matter with your daughters.

The more pressing issue is proof that you were married to Captain Hughes’s mother. ”

James interjected, “This is the problem. When I was young, I went to St. Paul’s Church to find documentation of the marriage because I wanted to believe my mother when she swore she was married.

Our lives were that of servants under my tyrannical uncle, the vicar.

” The Duke flinched, as he should, before James continued, “When I went to the church, there was no record of it. It solidified the unrelenting reminders from my uncle that I was a whore’s son, a worthless bastard. ”

The Duke shook his head in disgust.

Arthur looked over his spectacles at the Duke. “Do you recall signing the church’s registry?”

“Rose and I both signed it. If it wasn’t there, it must have been removed.”

Arthur pursed his lips and tilted his head while he thought, then said, “If Roberts intended to murder James’s mother, one would assume he accepted that you were married. Otherwise, why do such a thing? He may have removed the marriage record to hide any evidence.”

“Or my uncle could have done it. He reveled in the power he had over my mother and me.”

The Duke shook his head. “This is all too much.”

“How do you think I feel?” James said.

Charlotte’s mind was muddled. A fog drifted through her brain, and the moment she thought she recognized a thought or a sound, it floated back into the mist and was lost. Other times, she would resurface from darkness and catch a snippet of a familiar voice, then dive back into a featureless abyss.

This time, there was still fog and confusion, but it was not quite as thick.

She heard voices and tried to turn her head in the direction of the sound.

A stabbing pain shot from her arm. She grimaced.

Why does my arm hurt?

This one cohesive thought was too much for her addled brain, and she submerged herself in darkness again.

“Lottie.”

A voice intruded into the abyss. She tried to ignore it. It was actually quite comfortable to have a blank mind.

“Lottie.” This time, she felt her body move slightly. She flung her good arm up to stop the pain.

“Bollocks. Sorry, Lottie.”

Who’s Lottie?

Whoever she is, she is not here. Charlotte tried to return to the darkness.

Leave me alone.

There was pressure on her right hand. “Charlotte, it’s me, James.”

Charlotte sounded familiar.

I’m Charlotte, now this voice can go away.

Her mind began to wander.

“Charlotte, please. It’s James.”

I don’t know a James.

She drifted off again.

Charlotte remained in blissful oblivion for an unknown amount of time, but finally the shadows lifted. Her senses detected stimuli. Voices, pressure on her arm, pain…lots of pain.

Her eyes flew open. Candles shed light on an unfamiliar chamber.

“Lottie, I’m here. It’s James.” She turned her head to the voice, and recognition dawned upon her when she noted the concerned gray eyes gazing down at her.

She knew James. She knew him quite well.

The usual storm brewing in him was absent.

Instead, he looked exhausted and despondent.

Dark circles lined the eyes on his usually handsome face, and stubble covered his angular cheekbones and square jaw.

Charlotte tried to sit up, but that only worsened the pain. “Ow,” she moaned. Her right hand flew to her left upper arm.

James caught her hand and gently lowered it.

“You were hurt very badly.”

She squinted at him as fragments of memories tried to form in her mind. She thought she had heard Lottie in the darkness.

“What happened?” her dry voice croaked.

James soothingly rubbed circles on the top of Charlotte’s hand with his thumb.

“You went out to the gardens where a man shot you.”

Charlotte eased herself back against the headboard and tried to piece together her memories.

“What happened before that?”

“I saw you rush across the Rowley’s ballroom, but I didn’t know why. It looked as if you were running away from something.”

Rowley Ball, Rowley Ball, Rowley Ball .

She furrowed her brow. “There was something important about the Rowley Ball.”

James stroked her hand. “Did it have to do with the Duke of Westcliffe?”

The name of her almost-betrothed triggered a flood of memories and images from that night.

A crowded ballroom.

Fresh air.

The gardens.

A man in the shadows.

A gun.

Her stomach dropped. “I shot him.”

James glanced around the room and lowered his voice. “I told the magistrate it was me,” he reassured her and continued to rub her hand.

“But did I?” her voice cracked.

“Yes. You looked distressed in the ballroom, so I followed you outside. You were already down in the gardens with a gun trained on you. I distracted the man, and you got off your shot. His gun went off as he fell.”

“Is he dead?” Charlotte whispered.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

James chuckled. “Lady Charlotte Tipton, this is the second time you have approved of a killing.”

Charlotte felt his hand on her chin. She had been looking at the wall while she sorted through her muddled mind, but she now felt her head being turned. Sable hair and silver eyes dominated her vision.

“You’re amazing,” James murmured.

“I knew you were on the balcony. I could feel you, and then I sneaked a glimpse, and there you were.”

A smile spread across his face. His handsomeness when he was not scowling still made her breath catch.

“I have a lot to tell you. Arthur has been staying with you at night for propriety’s sake, but I have been allowed to sit with you during the daytime with Bailey present.”

Charlotte’s eyes roved around the unfamiliar room, catching sight of her lady’s maid dozing with her sewing on her lap. “Where are we?”

“One of the Rowley’s bedrooms. After you stabilized, Dr. Stone said we could move you from the drawing room to a more comfortable situation.”

“How long has it been?”

“Several days. Arthur and I have been easing you off the laudanum as quickly as we can. I saw too many sailors chase the dragon and didn’t want you to become addicted. How’s the pain?”

She tried to adjust herself and flinched. “It hurts, but I’ll get through it. You must tell me everything.”

“Are you well enough?”

“The suspense would be infinitely worse.”

Charlotte let out a hiss of pain when James adjusted her against the pillow that was propped up behind her.

James raised his eyebrows. Still, he did as she asked, and he told her all that had transpired.

It was more than Charlotte could ever imagine.

How her life had become intertwined with a long-lost son of the Duke of Westcliffe was almost too much for Charlotte to handle in her laudanum-induced state.

“You’re actually the heir to the Duchy of Westcliffe?” Charlotte could not fully wrap her mind around this development.

James shook his head. “The only fact I know is that I’m his son, but there’s no record of his marriage to my mother. We can’t prove that I’m the heir.”

Charlotte was curious. “Does that upset you?”

“Not particularly. You know what I think of the ton . The only thing that matters to me is having you by my side. Lottie, I want to marry you. I know I may not have the protection of my own title, but I’ll fight with every breath I have left in my body to keep you safe.

You are my everything. Losing you would have killed me. I need you.”

Tears streamed down her face. This was too much, but it felt so right.

“Yes, yes, YES! I love you, James.” She snuffled in the most unladylike fashion. After all that had happened and still with a touch of laudanum in her system, Charlotte was finally acknowledging her true feelings for James.

“You don’t know how much that means to me. I have loved you this whole time, but I knew I was never worthy of you. I still am not, but I don’t care anymore.”

Through her sobs, Charlotte choked out, “You silly man.” She tugged her hand from James’s clasp and slapped his arm.

“Charlie! You’re awake.”

Charlotte tried to stop the tears, but they kept coming. “Arthur.” She started to turn toward his voice but stopped herself as a jolt of pain shot through her arm.

Her beloved brother rushed to her side and leaned over the bed. His hair was a mess as usual, and his spectacles were falling down his nose. She loved Arthur beyond belief.

“Thank heavens—you had us all worried.”

“I’m sorry. I always seem to get myself into scrapes.”

Arthur shook his head. “Some things never change.”

“I’ll not be your responsibility anymore.”

“Oh?” Arthur responded with a knowing look in his eyes.

“James has asked me to marry him, and I said yes.” A grin spread across Arthur’s face, and he clapped James on the back.

“Good man. But could you not have waited until she could sit up unsupported? I’m afraid you have her at a disadvantage.”

Charlotte laughed tears. Arthur was always so serious and scholarly that many did not realize he was actually quite witty.

James responded smugly, “I was in the military. You always attack when your opponent is weakest.”

The two gentlemen chuckled. They both looked down at Charlotte with relief. Her sobs diminished, and she collected herself. “What are we to do next?”

“Dr. Stone has been checking on you each morning and evening. He’ll be delighted that you’re awake. Hopefully, you can move back to your aunt’s home soon,” James explained.

Charlotte assessed his stubble, tussled hair, and disheveled appearance. “Have you rested?”

James sheepishly looked down at his hands before he raised his head to look at her. “No, I couldn’t leave. I came too close to losing you. I wasn’t going to let it happen again.”

Fresh tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes. It must be the laudanum, because she had never been this emotional. Or maybe it was because she loved this man so much it hurt.

After realizing she was the forgotten fifth as a child, Charlotte had always walled off her emotions.

Emotions made one vulnerable, and she refused to let herself be at the mercy of others.

Now, she was letting in her emotions for James.

Instead of feeling exposed, it felt wonderful.

There was a power in knowing that James loved her just as much as she loved him.

Charlotte reached out for his hand with her good arm and gave him a squeeze.

“Lady Charlotte,” a voice bellowed from the other side of the room. The Duke walked purposefully toward the group.

“Your Grace,” Charlotte said. She tentatively smiled. She did not know how he would react to the news that she was to marry James.

He glanced down at James and Charlotte’s entwined hands. “Ah.”

She eyed him nervously.

“I see my son has spoken with you.”

James glared at him. “Yes, Your Grace .”

The Duke clasped his hands behind his back and stared down his aristocratic nose at James. “I realize it would take me more than a lifetime to atone for my mistakes, but you have to give me a chance.”

Before James could retort, Charlotte chimed in. “You’ll give us your blessing to be married?”

“Undoubtedly. I enjoy your company, Lady Charlotte, but I believe you’re much better situated as my daughter-in-law than as my wife. And I already have a wife whom I must see.”

Charlotte grinned. “I entirely agree.”

He looked at James. “Before I take my leave, I want to let you know that I wrote to your mother. I hope she will accept my invitation to come to London. Being a duke, I’m not used to apologizing, but I groveled quite thoroughly, if that’s any consolation.”

Charlotte saw the corner of James’s mouth twitch.

Perhaps there was a chance at reconciliation.