Chapter Twenty-Two
Charlene paced the wide stone path of her greenhouse, her boots tapping against the damp floor.
Sunlight filtered through the paneled glass above, casting muted green and gold light onto the riot of plants surrounding her, but she could not enjoy it.
Normally, the dense foliage brought her serenity.
Normally, the delicate orchids lining the far table would command her attention.
But now her gaze skimmed over the blooms as though they were no more remarkable than field daisies.
Her brother had stopped her before she could slip out from the house and chase after Adam. He also refused to tell her what had been discussed. Mr. Grafton hadn’t been any help either.
However, a letter arrived.
Her hands shook as she unfolded the letter again that had been delivered by special courier only minutes before, Adam’s bold script cutting across the page. She didn’t need to reread it, but she did anyway, the words imprinting themselves deeper into her mind.
If you need me, find me at The Duchy Hotel, for I shall not return to my home.
Her throat tightened. Not return? Find me?
Did he mean forever? Her stomach twisted.
The words couldn’t mean anything else. Adam wasn’t the sort to flee from something he deemed his duty.
He was the sort to face the barrel of a pistol at dawn without flinching.
He was going to duel. For her. The thought hit her like a hard slap, setting her pacing anew.
He could be hurt.
Or worse…
She read on, her pulse quickening.
Before tomorrow morning, I must give you something I have so long owed you.
The meaning eluded her, leaving her in a tangle of uncertainty.
What did he owe her? Her mind raced, but it latched onto nothing.
Even her orchids provided no foothold for her thoughts.
That was the strangest thing of all. Normally, she would find solace in the soft pearly hues of her slipper orchids or the speckled gold of her smoothed blooms. But now, they sat like silent spectators to her failing composure.
“Dash it all!” she muttered, startling the gardener’s boy sweeping near the door. He scurried out without a word, leaving her alone with her turmoil.
The sound of footsteps snapped her upright, and her father appeared beneath the greenhouse archway, his frame silhouetted by the bright light beyond.
“Has a villain attacked your precious plants? Or do you aim to frighten the poor boy into tending them better?” Lord Fielding crossed the threshold with his usual air of unshakable calm, his spectacles slipping slightly down his nose.
“Father,” Charlene said breathlessly, clutching the letter. “When have you returned from your tours of the estates?”
“Just now.” He peered at her closely, taking her in, and arched a brow. “My darling Charlene, you look ready to swoon.”
“No.”
“Then perhaps Henry? You seem to get along well?”
She glanced away, her thoughts tangling. “This isn’t about Henry. This is…” She gestured vaguely, then thrust the letter toward him. He made no move to take it, only raised a brow. “This is…”
“No riddles, if you please,” he said lightly. “Waylon’s notes have been riddled with the Cross brothers, but I know he thinks little of them these days. Speak plainly for once, my dear. What is vexing you? Is it because I didn’t tell you about my meeting with Rotheworth earlier?”
Charlene bit her lip, heat rising in her cheeks. “Waylon. And Adam. Rotheworth. He’s written to me. I think… he’s going to fight a duel.” She flung the letter onto the planting table, its corner brushing the soil dusting the surface.
Her father adjusted his glasses. “A duel? Over you? Hmm.” His mouth curved slightly, but to her astonishment, it wasn’t with amusement. “I gather the poor man’s intentions toward you are not entirely dishonorable, then. So, his father was right then?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“It was shortly before he died, Charlene. When Adam was taking his final exams and bound to return. His father must have known that he was dying because he told me he’d hoped for a love match of our families.”
“Oh dear, Papa!” Charlene exclaimed, though her rebuttal came with little conviction. “This is not the time for teasing!”
“On the contrary, it seems an excellent time to determine why you look more inclined toward leaping into your carriage than arranging a vase of orchids.” His gaze sharpened slightly. “You’ve made up your mind about Henry then? There’s no love match with any of the Cross brothers?”
Charlene hesitated. The sunshine warming the greenhouse did little to ease the chill building in her chest. “I can’t marry Henry. I won’t.” She clasped her hands tightly to stop them from trembling.
Her father nodded, as though this was no more surprising than an afternoon rain shower. “And Adam?”
Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “I must see him.”
For a moment, her father said nothing. Then he inclined his head in a rare show of approval. “Well, I shan’t keep you plotting here where even your orchids seem of little comfort. But take the carriage. Your reputation is not entirely worthless yet.”
With one last glance at her father, Charlene gathered her bonnet and gloves, tying the ribbons with shaky fingers as she hurried outside. The light breeze caught the edge of her skirts as she climbed into the waiting carriage, her heart thudding wildly.
“The Duchy Hotel,” she instructed, gripping her gloved fingers together tightly.
The driver urged the horses onward, and the carriage pulled away with a creak of its wheels.
Charlene allowed herself a single breath.
Reputation, sensibility, and consequences faded behind her as the greenhouse disappeared.
Only Adam’s cryptic words lingered. I must give you something I have so long owed you.
And she would get her answers even if it meant sacrificing everything.
*
Adam scowled at the papers he was busy drawing up for the solicitor. The only way to stop David from destroying the family fortune and controlling the situation was by getting him out of England.
For good.
Forever.
So, he would create a stipend that could only be redeemed in Provence and lapsed the moment David returned to England. It was the only way to keep that scoundrel from returning.
And he would return. Again and again.
His twin knew exactly how to needle him. How to push.
Which is why exile had to be absolute.
For Charlene.
And for him.
His mother.
But mostly for Charlene. Their future. If they still had one.
A knock startled him. Sharp, firm. He stilled, the quill in his hand dripping ink onto the desk. It was late. Too late for the solicitor’s man. And no one else knew he was here besides his friend and…
But no.
She would never come here, would she?
Another knock—firmer this time.
Adam pushed back his chair, rising. He crossed the room in sure strides, only hesitating a slight moment at the door before yanking it open.
He inhaled sharply.
Could it be? She was here.
Was she? Or had his mind finally splintered and he was imagining things?
“Charlene?”
A brow arched. “Expecting someone else?”
It was her.
She stood in the doorway like an angel—breathless and beautiful—and utterly stealing his rational thought. Pure instinct had him step aside quickly so that she could enter before anyone saw her.
“What are you doing here?” What was he even saying? He’d sent her word of his whereabouts. “Do you need me?”
“You said you had something to show me?”
Yes, but he hadn’t thought she’d actually come. He’d hoped… but never dared believe. “Yes, I—”
“You mustn’t do it,” she interrupted in a burst of air, her voice low but urgent. Something was wrong. Off.
“What are you talking about? Did something happen?”
“I just…” she shook her head. “I can’t let you do it.”
Adam stared at her, blood thundering in his ears. What? She wasn’t making any sense. His mind raced, scrambling for meaning. What did she think he was doing?
Wait.
Was this about David?
About exiling him?
His gut twisted. How could she possibly know? Had David gone to her? Pleaded with her? Begged for mercy with those same pitiful eyes he’d used a hundred times before?
Adam’s jaw clenched. He wouldn’t put it past his brother.
But if that was the case, how could Charlene forgive the man who had hurt her easily?
“It has to happen,” he bit out. He couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Her eyes widened. “You’d go that far? Over a matter of pride?”
His chest burned. “Pride? No—Charlene, this isn’t about honor.”
“Honor! What if he dies! That will be on you! You will have to carry that for the rest of your life!”
David die? No, weeds don’t die that easily. Besides, he survived this past year just fine, did he not? What the devil had David told her?
“So, you mean to forgive him and allow him to stay here in London like nothing happened?”
She blinked at him. “What? What are you talking about?”
“My brother. What are you talking about?”
“The duel!”
“What bloody duel? I don’t know of this! Who told you there would be a duel? Wait, who am I dueling with?”
Her eyes went wide before a small furrow appeared between her brow. “Mr. Grafton… You’re not dueling with him?”
There had been one terrible misunderstanding. “No.”
“Wait, then you thought I was talking about your brother?”
Adam nodded. “He won’t be in London much longer once I set things in motion. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that he was back, or that there were rumors he might be returning.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I wish you had.”
“I know. I didn’t want to ruin things by talking about him, but not talking ruins things, too, it seems.”
Her shoulders sagged, the fight in her deflating. “Oh.” A breath. Then another, sharper. “I should challenge you to a duel for that, you know.”
He chuckled. “If I’d known a duel would have you hunting me down, I’d have pretended a challenge much sooner.”
“Rogue!” But then she smiled.
“No one saw you, right? You were careful?”
She nodded. “In any event, my reputation is a mask.” A snort. “Just like your face.”
He took her hand in his, squeezing. “Don’t even jest about that, Charlene.”
She squeezed back. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner,” she said, stepping up to him. “That I didn’t listen when you wanted to explain. You’re not David. Not even close. You never were.”
He couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.
Those words alone could be the fuel his heart beat from for the rest of his life.
He wore the same face as his brother. He couldn’t change that.
And while he hadn’t thought about it much, couldn’t for his sanity’s sake, a part, a deeply buried part, had always feared she’d only see his brother, his brother’s sins, when she looked at him.
But she didn’t.
And that was the most precious thing in existence.
She came closer. “I see you. Not the mask. Not the name. You.”
He grinned at her. “And you don’t want me to die in a duel. That means you care.”
“I care. More than I ever let on.”
It was all so unexpected, Adam didn’t know how to feel. Didn’t know how to suddenly express himself. “Come with me somewhere. Please.”