Page 35 of A Lady's Dangerous Secret
“He’s staying at our home as a guest of my brother. When it was mentioned that you were ill, he seemed worried and suggested we check on you. He suspected it wasn’t contagious.”
“His guess was correct.” Charlotte tried to draw them off any scent that would suggest James knew more about what had happened to her.
“Now Charlotte,” Eleanor began in her silky voice that held a constant sense of aristocratic insouciance, “we all have our own secrets. Bridget told us Captain Hughes seemed very concernedabout how you fared. Is there anything between you?” She waved her hand dismissively. “We’ll not judge.”
Charlotte tried to hide the guilty look on her face as the three ladies gazed at her. She knew she did not have to tell them everything about what had transpired with James, but there seemed to be an unspoken expectation that Charlotte reveal at least a tidbit of information. Confiding in these women would perhaps help them all become friends.
Friends?
Charlotte had never had such a relationship with anyone, yet she thought these three ladies who showed concern for her well-being could potentially be called such, if all went well. Charlotte’s heart warmed, and she realized she had to trust them if they were to become friends and be considered one another’s confidants.
While Charlotte was making the decision on how much to tell the other women, Bridget broke the awkward silence. “Captain Hughes was most insistent I deliver this personally to you,” she stated in her unthreatening voice. She procured a letter from her reticule and placed it on the bedside table.
The interlude gave Charlotte enough time to gather her courage and show a degree of vulnerability to them.
“Captain Hughes saved me from some trouble.” Charlotte pointed to her neck. “I believe I owe him a great deal.”
“Is that all you feel? Gratitude?” Eleanor asked pointedly. She looked at Charlotte with her deceptively lazy eyes.
Charlotte swallowed. She had not revealed much of anything.
Trust.
She had to trust these women. “Perhaps not. To be honest, I don’t know what I feel. I can’t stop thinking of him. And I have to forget about him, but it’s so hard. My betrothal to the Duke will be announced soon.”
The ladies nodded with understanding etched on their faces. They too were unwilling female cogs in the constantly spinning wheel of theton.
“Bridget, can you thank Captain Hughes for his concern? I’ll read his letter in private so that I can pen an appropriate response. I have to be polite, but then I need to move on.”
Charlotte did not trust herself to read the letter in front of the three women. She was afraid her emotions were too muddled at the moment and would be written across her face.
“I’ll tell him,” Bridget responded. She grinned, which transformed her visage from the sullen look Charlotte had witnessed at the Markham Ball. If one could ignore her sad eyes, Bridget really did have the most angelic appearance.
“There’s one additional reason we came to call,” Eleanor said.
“Oh?” Charlotte hoped the conversation would shift away from her personal affairs.
Eleanor eased four invitations out of her reticule with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Lady Stanhope’s masquerade ball is in three days. It’s a deliciously scandalous event that occurs each year during the Season, where all propriety is left at the door. Beatrice and Bridget have already agreed to attend. We thought you’d like to be included as well.”
She pulled a separate piece of foolscap from her reticule that was dyed black and had no writing on it. Eleanor smirked, then made eye contact with each of the other ladies in the bedroom. “But it gets better. I haven’t told anyone yet that I received a coveted invitation to the black door.”
Beatrice and Bridget gasped, and Eleanor’s face broke into a triumphant smile. Charlotte eyed them with consternation.
“Um…Eleanor, if you wouldn’t mind explaining theblack door?” Charlotte’s voice hitched at the end, feeling self-conscious and naïve.
“It’s absolutely glorious. Only the truly depraved get to cross the black door,” Eleanor replied gleefully. Charlotte did not know how to react. She had much more important matters to address, namely theIncident, and did not think crossing some forbidden door would be of much help. Charlotte’s eyes darted to the two other women to gauge their reactions. Bridget looked down at her feet uncomfortably while Beatrice had a determined look on her face.
“Although Eleanor has procured invitations for all of us,” Beatrice explained, “she only has one for the black door. She may be able to get one or two of us past the guard, but not everyone.”
Charlotte pondered the invitation. She was soon to be a married woman—a duchess, of all things. Even though she should not take her focus off theIncident,it was probably her only chance to attend a masquerade ball. But she had to be careful.
“Thank you for including me. I’d love to get to know you better and attend the masquerade ball. I’m more than happy to avoid the black door and leave the spots open for the rest of you. I have enough scandal I’m fighting at the moment.”
Beatrice answered first, “That’s very kind of you.” She paused. “I may need Eleanor to get me through that door.”
Bridget spoke next, “I’ll stay at the main masquerade ball with Charlotte. I don’t think I have use of the black door either.” She seemed as if she was reassuring Charlotte just as much as herself.
Eleanor clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! What fun we’ll have! The theme is ancient Greece. I’ve already put together costumes for Beatrice and Bridget. I can make an outfit for you in no time.” Eleanor looked at Charlotte in an assessing manner, mentally making measurements. “Do you have a choice of Greek goddess?”
