Page 36 of The Virgin Duchess (Unwanted Brides #2)

Chapter Thirty-Three

L aunching herself from the carriage, Charlotte tore up the steps to the estate and flung the door wide as she burst inside. The servants near the door jumped slightly as she crashed in, and several called out after her as she flew up the stairs toward Frederick’s bedroom.

There was no time for formalities or customary measures. This was too crucial. Charlotte had learned the truth of the situation with Margaret, and she would not allow her husband to remain ignorant or use what he believed to drive a wedge between them.

Frederick…ugh, he must be…pushing me away? Ugh! I shall pull the truth from him by the teeth if I must.

The house was so quiet around her as Charlotte flew up the stairs, and when she got to Frederick’s room to knock on the door, it was open. Her husband was not inside, but Diedre and she was pulling the linens from his bed with a basket set up nearby.

“Diedre, where is the Duke? I need to speak to him at once.”

“Your Grace,” she ducked her head, “I have not seen him in some time. I believe he has gone out for the day.”

Charlotte thought back to the entrance in front of the house where the carriages were usually parked. One had been missing from the lineup, and her stomach dropped.

“Did he say where he was going?”

“I did not hear his plans, Your Grace. I’m sorry.” Diedre was perceptive enough to see the concern furrowing Charlotte’s brow, and she set aside the sheets to be washed and approached her. “What is the matter, mistress?”

“I…I have important news to discuss with the Duke. I had hoped to find him here, and now that he is gone, I fear what he might be doing. We…we had a disagreement this morning.”

Sympathy radiated from Diedre, and she took Charlotte’s hands in a comforting gesture.

“I am sure he will return. You needn’t worry over him. Would you like me to fetch you a cup of tea, Your Grace?”

Charlotte nodded, unable to think of anything else to do. When she was alone in Frederick’s room, she began to circle the space, her stare falling to the discarded clothes on the floor.

They are not in the basket.

Unease grew within her as Charlotte considered what that meant. Frederick usually put everything that was ready to be washed in the wicker basket that could be found in each room. Diedre would certainly not leave them there unless she had yet to get to them. It suggested that Frederick had gotten dressed in a hurry, hastily discarding his clothes.

“Where have you gone to?” she mused to herself.

Creak .

The floorboards near the door squeaked, and Charlotte jumped. Turning, she assumed it would be Diedre coming back to finish her chores, but Rose stood in the threshold, a concerned knit to her brows.

“Rose?”

Charlotte approached her, regarding the woman with a deep furrow to her own brow.

“I…I have heard your conversation with Frederick.” Charlotte’s stare flared wide with the news. “I have also informed my brother that the Baron has sent another threat. I…I believe that he’s…”

She was taken with nervous energy, and the fear that had been steadily growing between Charlotte’s ribs worsened. Frederick had been undoubtedly upset following their conversation. If he’d received word that the Baron was harassing his sister again, or more importantly, word of his location, there was no telling what he might do.

“Rose, did he have a location? Did Frederick leave to pursue the Halfacre?”

After a moment, her sister-in-law nodded. “I’m afraid he did.”

Charlotte’s shoulders drooped, and she sighed—a long, exhausted exhale that took every bit of air from her lungs.

“Dammit.”

At that moment, Diedre returned, and Charlotte rushed to her. “Did anyone speak to the Duke before he left? It is of the utmost importance that we find him.”

The housemaid startled slightly at the intensity of Charlotte’s words, her stare flicking between the Duchess and Rose, the Duke’s beloved sister.

“I…He may have spoken to George before his leaving. I believe I saw him discussing something with the Duke, and the butler entered Frederick’s study, procuring something before he met His Grace at the carriage outside.”

Charlotte took Diedre’s hands and clasped them tightly. “Thank you, Diedre. Thank you.”

Turning from them, Charlotte took off with the intention to find George and determine what exactly it was he talked with the Duke about—and what he gave him that had been done in such secrecy. But before she could move more than a step, a hand fell on Charlotte’s shoulder.

“I am coming with you.” Rose stepped up next to Charlotte, meeting her gaze hard.

“Rose,” Charlotte took the woman’s hands, offering an expression that she hoped would convince her to remain behind, “I am unsure where he has gone. It is very likely unsafe to be rushing after him.”

“Then why are you going?” Rose’s matter-of-fact tone hit Charlotte, and there was little argument she could offer. “Besides, I know where he has gone.”

Charlotte surged forward, desperation clawing up the back of her throat. “Where, Rose? Where?”

“There is a gaming hell. I can direct the tiger to it.” Clever girl, keeping the name to yourself. “I will not stay here while my brother risks himself all for me. I…I can’t.”

Nodding once, Charlotte gave up on any more attempts to keep Rose in the house. There was no use, and furthermore, she could understand her sister-in-law’s feelings. Charlotte herself was unwilling to let Frederick go off and risk himself, particularly because she had a feeling that he was doing so recklessly, with no regard for himself.

That would not do.

“Very well. But I must know what he took with him. I…I have this terrible feeling that Frederick is about to do something extremely foolish.”

Rose nodded back at her, and the two of them tore down the stairs in search of George. When they reached the ground floor, they found the butler in the kitchens overseeing what was being prepared for dinner, much to the cook’s dismay.

“I do not need you watching over my shoulder. Busy yourself elsewhere, George, or my spoon is going to be finding its way up where only God knows you.”

Charlotte would have laughed in any other circumstance, but as it was, that gnawing anxiety over Frederick was pooling in her gut, sending waves of nausea to claim her with each heartbeat.

“George,” she cut it, getting the man’s attention, “I need to speak with you.”

He eyed Dorthea with no small amount of disdain but then left their conversation to join Charlotte and Rose, where they stood along the far wall of the kitchen.

“How can I be of service, Your Grace?”

“The Duke. He asked you for something before he left. What was it?”

George blanched, his mouth dropping slightly. He backpedaled, seeking to put space between them, and Rose stepped behind him, blocking his escape—not that Charlotte believed he wished to run from them, but only the discomfort of the situation.

“Your Grace, I had that conversation in confidence with the Duke. I do not wish to draw his ire for revealing what he had deemed a private matter.”

Charlotte was getting rather sick of how everyone around her—save from Rose, of course—seemed to be willing to endanger the Duke for some blasted secret. It was utterly absurd. They had no place in this estate, and as soon as all this was resolved, Charlotte was going to have a good, long conversation with Frederick about the nature of secrets and how destructive they could be.

Sucking in a lungful of air, Charlotte glared at George, jabbing a finger in his chest.

“You will tell me what you gave my husband, or so help me.” The man’s eyes shot wide under her intensity. “He is in danger of doing something horrendously imbecilic, and I will put a stop to it. Understood?”

The butler swallowed down the lump in his throat, nodding his head in a constant bob.

“Yes, Your Grace, of course. I was ordered to fetch the Duke his father’s pistol. He brought it with him in the carriage, but I do not know where it took him.”

Dread forced Charlotte’s mouth to drop open, but thankfully, Rose was there to circle around the butler and stand in front of her.

“That is just fine, George. Because I do.”

Grabbing her hand, Rose marched the two of them out of the kitchen and toward the front door. Charlotte’s heart beat as fast as a hummingbird, and she could sense the tears trying to break free.

She held them at bay, however. They would not serve her now. Charlotte could fall apart later when Frederick was safely back in this house alongside her and his sister. Until then, she would remain a piece of steel—unflappable and unmoved by the potential for disaster.

Through the door, Charlotte and Rose leaped into the first carriage that appeared before them at the bottom of the estate’s steps. Once inside, Rose leaned out of the window and called out to the young tiger who was standing at the ready nearby.

“You! Get this carriage moving. We need to get to the East End Gaming Hell at once.”

The young man, hardly older than a boy, jumped onto the carriage and another footman alongside him. They got the carriage into motion in seconds, and Charlotte sat with Rose in silence as the vehicle took off toward the bowels of London.

As the tension ratcheted down her spine, seeking to choke her, Charlotte couldn’t hold back the words that had been simmering in her mind any longer.

“What if the Baron has killed him? What if he has killed the Baron?” She looked over at Rose, whose expression was held in a grim mask, only just covering the panic in her stare. “What on earth did he think he was doing?”

Rose turned toward her, taking Charlotte’s hands and squeezing them tightly.

“What he always thinks he’s doing. Protecting someone he cares about. I cannot say I support his methods, but I know this about my brother. He is devoted to this family, to me. I would have been lost to my humiliation and grief if it were not for his kindness.”

Charlotte swallowed, the feeling like forcing down a croquet ball. “He is extraordinarily awful at evaluating risks to his own person. I…I will never forgive him if he’s gone and gotten himself killed.”

“Then,” Rose met her stare, “let us pray that we get there before he can be stupid enough to let that happen.”

Taking comfort in her sister-in-law’s presence and yanking herself up by her bootstraps, Charlotte nodded back at Rose with a purposeful smile.

“Indeed. We will be there for Frederick.” Charlotte looked out the window of the coach. “And when this is all over, he will answer to me.”