Page 8 of Her Temporary Duke (Rakes and Roses #2)

It was then that Charlotte discovered that she had failed to close the door properly.

The latch had not caught, and it had swung slowly open behind her just as Reginald appeared in the hallway.

He cleared his throat, and Charlotte spun.

She clutched the letter so hard to her breast that the paper crinkled and crumpled.

She felt the blood fall from her features, her stomach clenching.

What did I say? How much did he hear?

“Your sister? Charlotte , isn’t it?” Reginald asked.

“Yes,” Charlotte gasped, “she lives in Yorkshire with the Nightingale family, my Uncle Henry’s house. My father’s brother.”

She was babbling but didn’t know what else to say. At the end of the day, the game she and Amelia had played over the years was a harmless prank.

But she did not want her failure to maintain the illusion to damage her sister’s standing.

Amelia was a part of the ton, an accepted member of London society. And she was betrothed to a Duke, which would elevate her significantly. If it were known she had allowed her twin to impersonate her, it would surely cause a scandal. No one would trust her again.

“Yes, I vaguely remember hearing something of that part of the family. I don’t think I have ever met any of them.”

“You have not,” Charlotte said sharply, wanting to laugh at the ridiculous situation their lies had now put her in.

“Has she made a bad match then? I couldn’t help but hear you berating a gentleman for his treatment of her. Has she fallen in with a cad?”

Charlotte’s mind raced, and she finally nodded. “Yes, a rake actually. I may have to go to York to support her. She is quite beside herself.”

Charlotte congratulated herself on her quick thinking.

Depending on Amelia’s response to her letter, she now had the perfect reason to leave Prescott Estate and travel back to York.

On the way, she could meet with her sister, establish what on earth had been going on, and then return to her own life.

And leave Amelia to her rake? I could not! Leave Seth behind, perhaps to kiss my sister the way he kissed me. To lie with her the way I dreamed he lay with me...

The thought made her face heat up. She turned away to disguise the bright scarlet that she knew had blossomed in her cheeks.

“That is very sisterly of you, Amelia. I wanted to ask… um… by the way, you are looking much better lately. A week away and all your color has returned.”

Charlotte at first thought he referred to her blushes, then she realized precisely what he had said.

And I cannot simply ask him what he means without seeming suspicious or just plain mad!

“Yes, clearly, it was nothing to worry about. A touch of overdoing it, I expect,” she nodded.

“You certainly dove into the preparations for the Duchess of Devon’s summer fete with both feet. You were practically running the whole thing by the end. Mama was very impressed with the letter Her Grace sent to you expressing her gratitude for your hard work.”

Charlotte wanted to gape. Amelia had not mentioned this in any correspondence.

She felt a pang of envy. Amelia had made a life for herself among the society of London and was clearly successful.

Charlotte’s life in Yorkshire was far quieter and more reliant on the goodwill of Uncle Henry and Aunt Judith for her living.

Why would Amelia want to switch places with me? She has everything she could want. She has quite left me behind...

“What was it you wanted, Reginald? I have an appointment shortly for afternoon tea at the Earl of Tewkesbury’s house,” Charlotte said.

“It was… something of a delicate matter. I…”

“Is it about Victoria?” she asked, deciding to take the bull by the horns. “I have not had an opportunity to speak to her…”

“No, of course you haven’t,” he chuckled awkwardly. “You mentioned an appointment for a new hat fitting next week. I did not expect you to speak to her until then. No, it is not that, at least not directly .”

Charlotte felt sympathy for him. He was a gentleman who had always been amiable and genuine.

His sisters seemed more prickly towards Amelia, which Charlotte knew may be caused by jealousy over Amelia’s social success.

She glanced at the clock and suppressed impatience, waiting for Reginald to spit it out.

“It is the… money situation. If you could see your way clear to advancing me a sum. You see, I promised Victoria her own milliners. There is a lovely little shop available on the Strand. I had thought I could get it, but my… investments have turned bad, and I find myself short. And you know how Papa is.”

Charlotte’s heart fell. The one thing she could give no help at all with. She had no money beyond the modest allowance from her Uncle.

“I’m sorry, Reginald. I wish I could help, but I simply don’t have a lot of money myself. Certainly not enough to buy a property,” Charlotte explained.

Reginald frowned. His eyes narrowed, and he was silent for a long moment.

“You have no money to loan me,” he said flatly.

Charlotte spread her hands. “I will help in any other way. I can sing your praises to Victoria. Or help you win over Aunt Phyllis if that is your stumbling block…”

“What do you mean, you have no money?” Reginald asked quietly.

“…Just that,” Charlotte replied, confused by his response.

“I see.” Reginald’s voice was cold now, his words clipped.

He turned on his heel.

“Reginald, tell me what else I can do to help,” she called after him.

He stopped, shoulders hunched. “No, thank you. You have made yourself perfectly clear. This is my mess to clear up.”

He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Charlotte suddenly wondered if Amelia had loaned him money before. If Amelia were wealthier than Charlotte. If so, that would explain Reginald’s sudden anger. The clock chimed three, and she jumped.

She was late.