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"I pray it's not anytime soon," he muttered.
"Please," Charlotte pleaded. "I have to "
He'd caught her around the waist, but then his arms went slack. "Oh, for the fine," he muttered. "Go.
You have thirty seconds."
Charlotte didn't dare argue. He was the wronged party in this awful scene, and much as she hated his
anger, she rather
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thought he had a right to it.
But what thedevil had he been thinking when he'd said he wantedher?
Enough. She couldn't think about that now. Not when her sister was running off into the night.
Not when the mere memory of his face made her tremble. Eyes so blue, so intense as he'd said it.
I want you.
"Lydia!" she called out, her voice desperate. She pushed the door open and ran outside as if the fires of
hell Were on her heels.
And the truth was she wasn't so sure they weren't.
"Lydia!" she called again. "Lydia!"
Lydia was sitting under a tree, sobbing.
"Lydia!" Charlotte cried in horror as she rushed to her side. "What's wrong?"
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Lydia said, looking up at her through watery eyes.
"Well, no," Charlotte agreed, shooting a nervous glance toward the door. Ned had said thirty seconds,
and she rather
thought he meant it. "But this is how it is."
But that didn't seem good enough for Lydia. "He wasn't supposed to find me," she protested. "He was
supposed to be upset."
"He certainly wasthat," Charlotte replied, wondering what waswrong with her sister. Didn't she want to
marry Rupert? Wasn't she getting exactly what she wanted?
Why on earth was she complaining?
"No," Lydia gasped, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "But it was all supposed to happen
after I left. I wasn't supposed to have tothink about it."
Charlotte gritted her teeth. "Well, that's too bad, Lydia."
"And I didn't think he'd be quite so glad to have meg-gone." At that Lydia began to wail anew.
"Get up," Charlotte ground out, yanking Lydia to her feet. This was really too much. She had a furious
viscount inside waiting
to tear her to pieces, and Lydia wascomplaining? "I have had enough of this!" she seethed. "If you didn't
want to marry the viscount, you shouldn't have said yes."
"I told you why I accepted! I did it for you and Caroline and Georgina. He promised dowries for you."
She had a point, but as much as Charlotte appreciated the sacrifice Lydia had almost made, she wasn't
terribly inclined to
offer any compliments just then. "Well, if you were going to elope," she said, "'you should have done so
weeks ago."
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"But the bank said "
"I don't care one whit about Rupert's abysmal finances," Charlotte snapped. "You have been behaving
like a child."
"Don't talk to me like that!" Lydia shot back, finally straightening her shoulders. "I am older than you!"
"Then act like it!"
"I will!" And with that, Lydia actually lifted both of her valises into the air and started to walk away. She
made it about eight steps before muttering, "Oh, bloody hell," and letting them thunk to the ground. "What
the devil did I pack?" she asked,
planting her hands on her hips as she stared at the offending baggage.
And suddenly Charlotte was smiling. "I don't know," she said helplessly, shaking her head.
Lydia looked over with a soft expression. "I probably do need more than one day dress."
"Probably," Charlotte agreed.
Lydia looked down at the bags and sighed.
"Rupert will get them for you," Charlotte said softly.
Lydia turned around and caught her sister's gaze. "Yes," she said, "he will." Then she smiled. "He'd
better."
Charlotte lifted her hand in farewell. "Be happy."
To which Lydia replied, with a fearful glance toward Ned, who had come through the front door and
was now striding
rather purposefully in their direction, "Be careful."
And then she ran into the night.
Charlotte watched her sister disappear down the lane and took a deep, fortifying breath as she
attempted to gird herself for
the battle that was sure to come. She could hear Ned approaching; his footfalls were low and heavy in
the noiseless night.
By the time she turned around, he was right beside her, so close that she couldn't help but catch her
breath.
"Inside," he bit off, jerking his head toward the house.
"Can't this wait until morning?" she asked. He'd given her considerably longer than thirty seconds to say
good-bye to Lydia; maybe he was feeling generous.
"Oh, I don't think so," he said in an ominous tone of voice.
"But "
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"Now!" he ground out, taking her by the elbow.
But even as he half-dragged her to the house, his touch was surprisingly gentle, and Charlotte found
herself tripping along behind him, her gait forced into a half-run in order to keep up with his long strides.
Before she knew it, she was in her
father's library, with the door shut tightly behind them.
"Sit," he ordered, stabbing his finger toward a chair.
She gripped her hands together. "I'd rather stand, if you don't mind."
"Sit."
She sat. It seemed a foolish battle to pick, when the larger war was clearly looming in the near future.
For a moment he did nothing but stare at her, and she actually wished he would just open his mouth and
yell. Anything
would be better than this silent, disdainful stare. The moonlight was just strong enough to illuminate the
blue in his eyes,
and she felt pierced to the quick by his gaze.
"My lord?" she finally said, dying to break the silence.
That seemed to spark him. "Do you have anyidea what you've done?" he demanded. But his voice was
soft, and in a strange way worse than any shout would have been. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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"I pray it's not anytime soon," he muttered.
"Please," Charlotte pleaded. "I have to "
He'd caught her around the waist, but then his arms went slack. "Oh, for the fine," he muttered. "Go.
You have thirty seconds."
Charlotte didn't dare argue. He was the wronged party in this awful scene, and much as she hated his
anger, she rather
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thought he had a right to it.
But what thedevil had he been thinking when he'd said he wantedher?
Enough. She couldn't think about that now. Not when her sister was running off into the night.
Not when the mere memory of his face made her tremble. Eyes so blue, so intense as he'd said it.
I want you.
"Lydia!" she called out, her voice desperate. She pushed the door open and ran outside as if the fires of
hell Were on her heels.
And the truth was she wasn't so sure they weren't.
"Lydia!" she called again. "Lydia!"
Lydia was sitting under a tree, sobbing.
"Lydia!" Charlotte cried in horror as she rushed to her side. "What's wrong?"
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Lydia said, looking up at her through watery eyes.
"Well, no," Charlotte agreed, shooting a nervous glance toward the door. Ned had said thirty seconds,
and she rather
thought he meant it. "But this is how it is."
But that didn't seem good enough for Lydia. "He wasn't supposed to find me," she protested. "He was
supposed to be upset."
"He certainly wasthat," Charlotte replied, wondering what waswrong with her sister. Didn't she want to
marry Rupert? Wasn't she getting exactly what she wanted?
Why on earth was she complaining?
"No," Lydia gasped, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "But it was all supposed to happen
after I left. I wasn't supposed to have tothink about it."
Charlotte gritted her teeth. "Well, that's too bad, Lydia."
"And I didn't think he'd be quite so glad to have meg-gone." At that Lydia began to wail anew.
"Get up," Charlotte ground out, yanking Lydia to her feet. This was really too much. She had a furious
viscount inside waiting
to tear her to pieces, and Lydia wascomplaining? "I have had enough of this!" she seethed. "If you didn't
want to marry the viscount, you shouldn't have said yes."
"I told you why I accepted! I did it for you and Caroline and Georgina. He promised dowries for you."
She had a point, but as much as Charlotte appreciated the sacrifice Lydia had almost made, she wasn't
terribly inclined to
offer any compliments just then. "Well, if you were going to elope," she said, "'you should have done so
weeks ago."
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"But the bank said "
"I don't care one whit about Rupert's abysmal finances," Charlotte snapped. "You have been behaving
like a child."
"Don't talk to me like that!" Lydia shot back, finally straightening her shoulders. "I am older than you!"
"Then act like it!"
"I will!" And with that, Lydia actually lifted both of her valises into the air and started to walk away. She
made it about eight steps before muttering, "Oh, bloody hell," and letting them thunk to the ground. "What
the devil did I pack?" she asked,
planting her hands on her hips as she stared at the offending baggage.
And suddenly Charlotte was smiling. "I don't know," she said helplessly, shaking her head.
Lydia looked over with a soft expression. "I probably do need more than one day dress."
"Probably," Charlotte agreed.
Lydia looked down at the bags and sighed.
"Rupert will get them for you," Charlotte said softly.
Lydia turned around and caught her sister's gaze. "Yes," she said, "he will." Then she smiled. "He'd
better."
Charlotte lifted her hand in farewell. "Be happy."
To which Lydia replied, with a fearful glance toward Ned, who had come through the front door and
was now striding
rather purposefully in their direction, "Be careful."
And then she ran into the night.
Charlotte watched her sister disappear down the lane and took a deep, fortifying breath as she
attempted to gird herself for
the battle that was sure to come. She could hear Ned approaching; his footfalls were low and heavy in
the noiseless night.
By the time she turned around, he was right beside her, so close that she couldn't help but catch her
breath.
"Inside," he bit off, jerking his head toward the house.
"Can't this wait until morning?" she asked. He'd given her considerably longer than thirty seconds to say
good-bye to Lydia; maybe he was feeling generous.
"Oh, I don't think so," he said in an ominous tone of voice.
"But "
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"Now!" he ground out, taking her by the elbow.
But even as he half-dragged her to the house, his touch was surprisingly gentle, and Charlotte found
herself tripping along behind him, her gait forced into a half-run in order to keep up with his long strides.
Before she knew it, she was in her
father's library, with the door shut tightly behind them.
"Sit," he ordered, stabbing his finger toward a chair.
She gripped her hands together. "I'd rather stand, if you don't mind."
"Sit."
She sat. It seemed a foolish battle to pick, when the larger war was clearly looming in the near future.
For a moment he did nothing but stare at her, and she actually wished he would just open his mouth and
yell. Anything
would be better than this silent, disdainful stare. The moonlight was just strong enough to illuminate the
blue in his eyes,
and she felt pierced to the quick by his gaze.
"My lord?" she finally said, dying to break the silence.
That seemed to spark him. "Do you have anyidea what you've done?" he demanded. But his voice was
soft, and in a strange way worse than any shout would have been. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]