Chapter Nine
Charlotte fumed.
How dare Jasper — her own brother — think so low of her? To believe that she would lie about something so important, so scandalous? The insult simmered beneath her skin.
Yes, she was lying. Technically. But her lies were for her own good. And Jasper, as Duke and head of the family, was supposed to look out for that. For her.
And Philip? He was the best thing for her. He just didn't realize it yet.
No, she hadn't told the truth — but what girl hadn't shaded it, shed a tear, hinted at liberties taken, just to get a man to do what was right?
Most marriages among the ton weren't built on love.
They were built on alliances, timing, and yes, a fib or two.
A well-placed rumor, and a wedding followed.
Philip would come to see that she had done them both a favor.
And if he didn't?
Well, she would still have what she wanted. She would be happy — and that was what mattered.
But now she would have to raise the stakes.
Jasper's wedding to Abigail was only days away. Her entire household buzzed with excitement. And Abigail — as if on air — floated about blissful and glowing, while Jasper smiled more easily than Charlotte had seen in years. It was all so nauseating.
But what better time to pressure Philip than now?
Jasper would be eager to avoid scandal. He would not want anything — certainly not a family disgrace — to mar the celebration and dampen Abigail's happiness.
He'd already tried to keep Charlotte's claims quiet. She was sure of it. But he was also too kind, too considerate.
She would make that work to her advantage.
And so, the evening before the wedding, the house was thrown into chaos when Charlotte began to scream.
She wailed about cramping, about sharp pain, about blood.
When Jasper rushed to her room, the maid was already pale and fluttering about, and Charlotte was curled in bed, moaning softly. A physician was summoned. After a private examination, he gave his findings with grave care.
"She is bleeding, yes," the doctor said. "And if she was with child, it was at a very early stage. Difficult to say conclusively. But the symptoms she describes are consistent. She is otherwise healthy — young, strong. There should be no issue with future conception."
Jasper stood stiffly. "I trust your discretion."
"Of course, Your Grace."
Once alone with her, Jasper dismissed the maids and sat at her bedside.
Charlotte turned her face to the wall. Her voice was hoarse and trembling.
"You didn't believe me," she whispered. "You never believed me. And now it's gone. He left me to suffer alone. I... I don't want to live anymore."
She let the tears spill freely, shaking beneath the covers. Jasper was silent a long moment, clearly stricken. Eventually, he stood, stiff and pale, and left without a word.
At Lyndhurst, Jasper found Philip in the study—his face like thunder.
"She lost the child," Jasper said. "She says the stress of your denial — and my not believing her — caused it."
Philip's jaw tightened. "I told you already. She's lying."
"She says she wants to die."
"I'm not surprised. That's the kind of performance she excels at."
Jasper said nothing.
A moment later, Sophia appeared, having come to say goodnight. Philip excused her gently, but not before she caught the tension in the air.
"What is it?" she asked, looking between the two men.
Jasper, jaw clenched, decided it was time Sophia knew what kind of man Philip truly was.
He told her what had been going on. All of it.
Sophia listened without interrupting, then looked Jasper squarely in the eye.
"Philip told me already. I trust him — just as you should. You've known him since you were boys."
"And Charlotte?"
Sophia's voice turned flat. "I've known her since seminary.
I've seen the way she manipulates people — the tears, the cruelty.
She's left girls in sobs over the pettiest things.
A prettier bonnet. A higher mark in French.
She doesn't care who she hurts, so long as she gets what she feels she's owed. "
After she left, Philip turned back to Jasper.
"I did not compromise your sister. I did not see her in London.
I made no promises. I will not be manipulated into marriage by a girl who trades in falsehoods and tantrums. I will not play along with her lie, nor let her ruin two lives to soothe her pride.
Tomorrow, I will see you at the chapel as you marry my sister — the one you claim to love and want a future with.
And I will not waste another breath on Charlotte's deceit. "
Jasper left soon after.
As he walked back through the gardens between their two estates, his thoughts churned.
Had he ever truly known Philip? Or the Browning family?
He had a duty to Charlotte, whether she deserved it or not. As her guardian, he must think of her future, her well-being, her name.
And if Philip had truly wronged her and thought he could walk away untouched — then he was gravely mistaken.
He would be at the chapel, yes — smiling, devoted, the picture of a besotted groom.
But the future Abigail dreamed of? That future was already dead.
Just like the trust he'd once had in her brother.
The honeymoon she imagined, the life she envisioned — it would all look very different now.
Because if Philip thought he could ruin his sister without consequence... then Jasper could return the favor.
And Abigail, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing between their families, would never see it coming.