Chapter Seven #2
He didn’t press. Most likely believing it was some nonsense scribbled by Maddie or Ashley. She turned back to her orchid. “Shouldn’t you be busy tormenting someone else?”
“I was on my way to do exactly that when I remembered something,” he said, stopping a few feet away. His expression shifted, losing its teasing edge. “You danced with Cross last night.”
Charlene froze. It wasn’t a question. She should have known he would notice. Her brother noticed everything. “Oh, so you recognized him, too.”
“Hard not to,” her brother said, his tone darker now. “He hasn’t changed much. Except for that ugly mask, of course.”
There had been nothing ugly about it. “It was just a dance.”
“Now that Adam Cross is duke, he’ll have his pick.” He wagged his index finger in the air. “And the woman Rotheworth picks will be the reigning queen of the Season.” He nodded as if he couldn’t help but agree with himself. “Perhaps of the Ton.”
Charlene tasted acid. The woman he picked…
Somehow, the scandal with David paled at the thought of what Adam Cross had to offer.
But was he truly that different?
“Nothing is just something when it comes to that family. You didn’t think to mention it?” he pressed, stepping closer. “The man appeared a year after disappearing after that night, and you just… waltzed with him?”
“It was a masquerade,” she shot over her shoulder. “I saw no harm.”
“No, harm? Char, what happened a year ago wasn’t ‘no harm’.”
“That was a year ago.” Why was she defending the man? She shook her head. “And he’s a duke. It would do no good to have him as an enemy. Besides, nothing happened.”
“Look at me, Char.”
She sighed, turning to her brother.
His gaze searched hers. “I don’t care whether he is the king of England. If you hurt my family, you are my enemy.”
“Stop,” Charlene said, rubbing her temple. “He didn’t hurt me.” Not with actions, anyway. However, sometimes words stung more than any thorn could. “He didn’t prevent it either.”
Her brother’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. “Fine. But if he does anything I don’t like, I will set that family ablaze, duke or not. Just look at today’s M-Press and you’ll understand why I am so worried about you.”
“I don’t need to read that. If there’s anything noteworthy, Ashley and Maddie will inform me.” Charlene smiled at that. “Plus, he won’t. Besides, we don’t have that sort of relationship where he could hurt me.” Not anymore. I’m tainted already, and he’s the only one who knows it.
Her brother stared at her for a moment longer before nodding once.
“Very good.” He glanced at her orchids. “Then I shall leave you to your plants.” He mumbled something about infernos among the Ton and shades in the damp greenhouse as he left, but Charlene paid him no heed.
Neither did Charlene watch him leave before returning to the ghost orchid, pulling the letter from her sleeve. She stared at the bold handwriting once. Friends… She could barely recall anything except that night a year ago. It’s as though it eclipsed all the good ones that came before.
Just as well.
There was only one path to walk, and that was forward. Not backward. She crumpled the letter in her fist, frustration bubbling to the surface. “The nerve of the man to send me such an invitation. Let him stand in the park alone to all eternity for all I care.”
But even as she said it, a tiny spark of curiosity flared. And against her better judgment, she found herself wondering what would happen if she did accept.
No.
Charlene. No!
She was most certainly not meeting him.
*
Adam Cross sat in his study, the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth doing little to thaw the chill that had settled in his bones. A ledger lay open before him, columns of figures neatly inked in black, but he wasn’t seeing them. His pen hovered over the page, motionless.
He was dreaming, right?
Adam hadn’t sent a note to Charlene asking to meet him at dawn, alone, in a damn park, to practice her dance? Jack’s mocking laughter filled his head. Yes, he would laugh exactly like that if he knew what Adam had done. That little word patience came back to haunt him tenfold.
He leaned back into his chair with a groan. He had sent the letter that morning, and now his whole body was restless with regret.
Should he not have done it?
Should he have waited for the next event to ask her to dance? Perhaps. Perhaps he should have done anything but send that damn invitation. But he hadn’t been thinking.
Charlene might laugh in his face or, worse, ignore him altogether.
The latter was almost assured.
She was more guarded now. Her defenses might as well be as high as the sky. Fortunately, Adam enjoyed reaching for it. Unfortunately, his lack of patience might just push her even higher. Beyond his reach.
No, he shouldn’t think like that.
She might be guarded, but she still possessed the same fire.
And that fire was one of the reasons why he couldn’t walk away. He wanted it to blaze hotter than the sun.
But would she come to the park? He had no idea. If she did, she might be accompanied by her brother. Or a pistol. But doing nothing felt worse than taking the risk. He would send her an invitation to the park forever if there were a single, minuscule chance that she would accept.
The door to the study cracked open, and Adam’s mother glided in. Ah, he would recognize that purposeful walk anywhere.
“You’ve been hiding in here all morning,” she said, taking the chair opposite him, her eyes studying him like a hawk just about to lunge for its prey. “Have you read the M-Press?”
Adam sighed. “Good morning to you, too, Mother. No, I haven’t.” I would never.
After a pause of her scrutinizing stare, she broke the silence. “You looked troubled,” she commented. “Did you find the ball that taxing?”
“On the contrary,” Adam said. “It was tolerable enough.”
“Only tolerable?” she asked. “Didn’t you dance with two ladies? A feat, considering your usual aversion to such things.”
Ah, so this was her purpose. “Your eyes and ears never cease to amaze me.”
“Nor should they,” she said simply. “They are quite impressive.”
“So, I danced with two ladies,” he remarked dryly, reaching for the quill to fiddle with. “Hardly something special.”
“That depends,” his mother said. “Who are the two ladies?”
Adam shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters! They are the ladies you chose. And one of them sent a note that she’d like to call on me.”
“Well, one chose me,” he muttered offhandedly. “I can’t answer that question, Mother, since they were masked.” And why would Charlene come to see his mother?
Her eyes narrowed on him, something no man wanted from their mother. “You didn’t ask for their names?”
“That would defeat the purpose of a masquerade, would it not?” I live and breathe the only name that matters every moment of my life—Charlene. Nobody else holds any sway over me.
His mother studied him for a short, but severe moment before she leaned back in her chair. “Very well. Hold onto your stubbornness, Adam. But you cannot hide behind your ledgers indefinitely.”
“Is that not the very definition of stubbornness?”
His mother’s lips twitched as though suppressing a smile. “You’ve inherited your father’s penchant for deflecting. He always thought he was terribly clever at it, too.”
Adam arched a brow, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so?”
“Quite,” she replied smoothly. “But I always knew when he was hiding something. Just as I know with you.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” Adam said, his tone flat.
“Then why do you look like you’re debating whether to blurt something out? The quill will snap if you keep toying with it like that.”
Adam glanced at the quill in his hand, realizing he was pressing the thing into the desk. He set it aside. “I’m not in the mood for this discussion.”
His mother laughed, a soft sound that softened the usual sharpness of her gaze. “Men usually aren’t.”
He debated whether to tell his mother about David but thought better of it.
He’d only be sullying her mood and might cause her unnecessary concern for something that might not occur.
Given the beating and warning he’d given his brother never to set foot in England again unless he wished to die, the man shouldn’t dare disobey him.
However, David had more courage than sense.
“Wife aside, the estate won’t perish if you leave the study occasionally. At the very least, go have a bit of fun.”
“I believe our definition of fun is different.”
His mother pointed to the ledger. “I know this is not yours.”
“I’ve changed since I was a boy.”
She inclined her head. “Indeed, boys do change, but some things remain ever constant—such as their penchant for keeping secrets from their mothers. Now, what is it you are concealing?”
He hesitated, his thumb brushing the edge of the desk. “Nothing of consequence, I assure you.”
“Nonsense,” she said firmly. “That answer alone is trouble enough as it is.”
“Only because your curiosity knows no bounds,” he countered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
She laughed lightly, the sound warm and teasing. “That much is true. I do delight in unearthing secrets, particularly those that leave you brooding so. Mark my words, my dear—I shall uncover it. I always do.”
Ah, the delight of meddling mothers.
He didn’t reply, and after a moment, his mother rose gracefully.
“I trust you will do the right thing,” she said, moving toward the door. She glanced over her shoulder, adding, “And try not to brood too much. It’s unbecoming.”
When the door clicked shut behind her, Adam exhaled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. Despite his mother’s nagging, despite whether his brother would be returning, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Would she come?