Page 2 of The Virgin Duchess

“Lord Emerton?! Will you truly leave me here on the ground?”

He stopped short of exiting the alley, Frederick’s head hanging down as he sighed. There was a moment of pause where all the Lord did was shake his head, but after a few seconds, he sucked in a new breath and turned to face her.

“Your Grace, actually.”

Charlotte furrowed her brow, not understanding Frederick’s meaning. Then it hit her. His father had just recently passed. They had printed it in the city papers. He was no longer Lord Emerton, but instead?—

“Apologies, Your Grace.” She gestured down at herself. “Would you mind?”

Mumbling something indistinguishable, Frederick approached her, and Charlotte waited for his hand to assist with standing up. When it was offered, Charlotte took the man’s grip as he pulled her up and then wiped down over the back of her coat.

“What just happened? Why were you out here holding that man against the wall?”

Frederick still held her hand, cradling her arm gently as he intensely paid attention to how well she stood.

“Are you quite all right, Lady Charlotte?” He lifted her arm, checking around her side and then over the top of her head. “Did he hurt you?”

Heat rose in Charlotte’s cheeks as Frederick scanned her from head to foot. The rapt focus was novel and somewhat alarming, and the warmth of his hand through her thin glove settled into her skin like stepping into a hot bath.

She shook herself, blinking as she remembered who she was talking to.This man is a rake, Charlotte. You’ve heard the rumors. He is dangerous to your virtue. You cannot be out alone with him. You should not be out alone at all.

“Lady Charlotte? Are you well?” Frederick’s brows were knitted together, his stare singularly focused on her, and he held her arm with care, his other hand going to the opposite shoulder as if to stabilize her. “Your head? Have you been injured?”

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but the intense focus laid upon her was such a strange, especially new experience. She’d never had the occasion to court someone, and there had been few in her life who’d expressed interest. Being the center of Frederick’s concern made Charlotte’s pulse flutter beneath her skin.

“Charlotte, I?—”

“I am unharmed.” She slipped her arms free of his hold. “And do not think I have forgotten what I saw. What were you doing to that poor man?”

The pinch of Frederick’s brow shifted, relaxing only to be followed by a distinct narrowing of his eyes. She could see the anger he’d displayed before creep up at the periphery.

“Perhaps I will answer your question. That isifyou can tell me why it is that a lady of station has found herself alone on the streets of London well after dark.”

Charlotte glared back at the man, refusing to be affected by his station above her or the way he set her skin buzzing each moment he eyed her so scrupulously. Furthermore, it was not his business why she was out, and Charlotte wasn’t about to threaten her standing by conversing so openly with a known rake.

“I am returning to my home.” She deflected. “And it is not I who was caught assaulting someone. It appears that the rumors of your rakish tendencies were just the start. You seem to be nothing more than a degenerate who accosts people in alleys.”

“How dare—” Frederick pulled himself away from her, clenching his jaw and balling his hands into fists before pointing an accusing finger at her. “You’re such a hypocrite!”

Reeling, Charlotte’s jaw dropped. “What?!”

“Need I remind you,LadyCharlotte, that a woman of your station would not go out this late, particularly unchaperoned. Unless it was your aim to set the ton abuzz with rumors of your own conduct.”

“Of which you know nothing about! I have done nothing wrong, but just two minutes ago, I stumbled upon you leveling your fist at a gentleman in the street!”

Frederick scoffed. “Ugh! You know nothing of which you speak either. You do not know why I was confronting that man, so don’t act like?—”

His words were cut off as the sound of mumbled words drifted up through the alley from the other end. Charlotte could make out crash language and the pattern of stumbling steps. She yanked herself out of the light cast by a nearby streetlamp, eyeing the direction of the sound.

Her unfortunate compatriot was there beside her in the dark, and soon, they both saw two very inebriated men wandering down the alley.

No, no, no. This is terrible. I cannot be seen here, especially not with Frederick!

Searching the end of the alley where she’d first entered, Charlotte found a parked carriage, the driver standing just past it and surrounded by the distinct sound of liquid hitting stone. It was just her luck that two drunken fools and a man relieving himself stood in her way of fleeing back home.

What could she do? Charlotte wouldn’t allow herself to be spotted by any of them. Frederick was already one too many people who were aware of her being out here, and that said nothing of the man who’d run off.

I need to?—

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