CHAPTER 31
A celebration of Life. Wrexford smoothed the knot of his cravat into place and patted down the creases in his coat—
“Did I just see you taking an interest in your sartorial splendor?” Tyler came into the earl’s dressing room with a pair of freshly pressed shirts in his arms. “I think I may swoon from shock.”
“Feel free to do so,” he retorted. “Then you may pick yourself—and your sarcastic tongue—off the floor and seek another position.”
“Ha,” sniffed the valet. “You wouldn’t dare—for I’d take my secret recipe for boot polish with me.”
“You’re lucky I’m very fond of my Hessians.”
Tyler eyed the earl’s tasseled boots with a critical squint. “Do try not to muck them up. The shine is perfect.”
Wrexford made a rude sound and went back to adjusting his cuff.
“Are you going somewhere special?”
“Nicholas Locke was released from Newgate last night. Lady Peake is having a small celebration at her town house.”
“There is,” murmured Tyler, “much to celebrate.”
“Indeed, there is.” Wrexford picked up his hat. After allowing a small smile, he descended the stairs and made the short walk from Berkeley Square to the dowager’s residence.
Sheffield was already there, along with Lady Cordelia—who had a deck of cards fanned out on the tea table and was in the middle of explaining a rather advanced concept of mathematical probability.
His friend looked up. “We’ll join you in a moment,” he mumbled, before returning his attention to the cards. “I just need to grasp this one last point . . .”
Even more amusing was the sight of the Weasels standing beside the dowager. With their pristine clothing, carefully combed hair, and scrubbed faces, the earl barely recognized them.
“Ye gods—the little beasts look almost human,” he observed.
“Yes, I know,” said Charlotte as she broke away from her cousin to come greet him. “It’s a miracle that I got them here without some noxious substance sticking to various parts of their anatomy.”
“Miracles do happen,” he quipped. Henning was also standing by the dowager; and for once, he didn’t look as though he had just been dragged through a thicket of gorse.
Lady Peake laughed at something the boys said and offered them more sweets.
“I feel that I’ve been blessed with more than my share of miracles,” replied Charlotte, flashing a happy look at Locke.
Her smile nearly took his breath away. Given the recent ordeal, her resilience was remarkable. But then, Charlotte drew her strength from principle and passion, not hubris and greed.
Wrexford tried to read in her eyes what she was thinking. But the quicksilver ripples were impossible to fathom.
She watched Locke respond to a summons from the dowager to come join her circle before abruptly changing the subject.
“I haven’t had the chance to properly thank you for everything, Wrexford.
” They hadn’t seen each other since the awful events of two nights ago.
“My wits were rather fuzzed on the ride home from DeVere’s villa.
I . . . I fear I was rambling and not making any sense. ”
Is she regretting the mention of love?
“Understandably so.” Keeping his tone light, he offered her his arm. “Shall we fetch some champagne? A toast to the triumph of Good over Evil seems in order before we move on to more murky subjects.”
* * *
Shadows tangled with contradictions—was that how he saw their relationship? They had gone to stand in a quiet spot by the mullioned windows, and though a gold-tinged glow illuminated its every chiseled plane and hollow, his face remained a cipher.
“To Light winning out over Darkness,” said the earl, lifting his glass in salute.
Repressing a sigh, Charlotte took a sip, making herself savor the sweet effervescence of the wine and the sparkle of sunlight winking off the cut-crystal goblet. “Only because of you and your logic.”
“No, only because of you and your determination to hope against hope.” A flicker seemed to stir beneath his dark lashes. “You wouldn’t give up.”
Charlotte made a wry face. “Yes, well, you know how stubborn I am.”
“And courageous and compassionate,” he said softly.
“I . . . I couldn’t have done it alone.”
“You didn’t have to.”
His words stirred even more uncertainties. “Only because . . . only because you felt obliged by a sense of gentlemanly honor to help.”
“I didn’t do it because I felt an obligation, Lady Charlotte.”
“And yet . . .” Confusion caught in her throat. She knew the word love had been mentioned during the ride home. However, their emotions had been overset. And given his puzzling detachment over the past few weeks, she assumed he had come to regret showing any chink in his armor.
“And yet the truth is, I’ve no right to keep tangling you in my problems,” she went on. “God knows, I’ve turned your orderly world upside down.”
“Strangely enough, I find that tumbling arse over brainbox is rather exhilarating.”
“But . . .” Charlotte stopped. Was that a gleam of laughter in his eyes?
“The truth is,” went on Wrexford. “Given all the worries weighing on you in recent weeks—your revelations about your past, your cousin’s murder, your momentous decision to reach out to your family—I felt it unfair to press for any discussion of personal feelings.”
“I . . . I thought perhaps you wished to distance yourself from me and my havey-cavey household,” said Charlotte in a small voice.
He suddenly looked a little vulnerable. “And I thought perhaps you wished for me to do so.”
“I feared . . . I don’t know exactly what I feared.” She hesitated. “I’m a coward about a great many things.”
Wrexford touched her cheek and a crackle of sparks shot through her body. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
“Ha! All too soon, I must face my first ball, a prospect that is even more frightening than blades, bullets, and . . .” She drew a shuddering breath. “And that terrifying force we call electricity.”
“Power can be used for good, as well as evil. I sense that in the right hands, electricity will be a positive force,” said Wrexford. “But for now, let us deal with the next few steps in front of us.”
“Seeing how many missteps I made in this investigation,” replied Charlotte, “I had better have another practice session on the waltz with Tyler and McClellan if I am to avoid making a complete cake of myself.”
He took her hand. “Remember, you promised the first dance to me, so be assured I’ll steady any stumbles.”
Her heart fluttered and kissed up against her ribs. For the longest time, she had told herself that strength could only come from within. That might have been true in the past, but not any longer.
“Knowing I’ll have your support is more comforting than you can possibly imagine.”
“Then it’s settled. When the time comes, we shall dance your first waltz together—”
A loud thump interrupted him as the dowager rapped her cane on the floor. “Hear, hear, everyone. Let us come together for a toast.”
“And then . . .” Wrexford turned and drew her toward the gathering circle of family and friends.
“And then,” he murmured, “who knows where the spins and twirls will take us?”