Page 48 of Touched By a Traitor
“I… Your Grace, do you mean it? Because if you do, I shall prepare the most advantageous marriage contract in existence,” Charlotte managed, her voice trembling slightly.
Chatham laughed, the tension shattering like delicate crystal, and his mirth seemed to grow with each passing moment until his face was flushed a deep shade of purple.
“Are you quite all right?” she asked.
“Aye, aye,” he assured her, standing upright and clearing his throat. “I assure you, Charlotte, I am as serious as I can be. You are aware of my situation. I believe we would make an excellent team, you and I. I can’t think of anyone who would make a better wife for me.”
“Yes, I agree,” Charlotte said. “But how on earth would you secure your uncle’s approval for such a match? He may have tolerated my pupillage, but he cannot approve of a working duchess, in the courthouse, no less.”
“Yes, well… I suppose I would need to confess to the king.”
“Impossible. You will not. The risk is too great.”
“The king has implied some time ago that he would approve of me taking you as my lover.”
“That does not indicate if he would approve of our marriage.”
The duke reached for her hand and held it between his palms. “Charlotte—”
“Your Grace, this is hardly the place. Perhaps we can discuss it when we have more privacy.”
“Of course. I understand how improper this setting must be. But I’ve finally made up my mind, and I’m sober enough to remember it. We could announce it now, and there’s nothing the king can do about it.”
“Except to punish me or us afterwards. He may not be as severe to his nephew, but he may take away my license and exile me to the colonies.”
Chatham looked down at her fondly. “I promise I shall follow you should you be exiled. Our strong respect and love for each other shall guarantee our happiness as husband and wife.” He leaned forward slightly and said softly, “Come, Charlotte. Wilson would not dare try anything to ruin your career if you become my duchess. You’ll be well provided for. We could work together. I would not dream of standing between you and the law.”
She smiled warmly. “It does sound like a dream come true, Your Grace.”
*
Andrew couldn’t explainhow he knew, but he knew. In fact, he felt a flurry of panic, anger, and possessiveness before he was even aware of his own actions—before he could articulate his reason. All he knew was that one moment he was draining his champagne glass, and the next, he was striding purposefully toward her. His gaze fixed sharply on their joined hands, hersmall, delicate hand sandwiched between the duke’s bedazzled ones, and all he could think was,Mine.
The couple came into sharp focus as he neared, and he saw the ruby ring Chatham removed from his pinkie and Charlotte’s surprised face. Without a word, he stepped between them, facing her shocked countenance, and forcing them to release each other’s hand. He heard the duke telling him to step aside and felt his hand attempting to push him away.
His mind blank except for seeing the woman he loved. He immediately pulled her to his chest and planted a firm kiss on her mouth. He lingered for a few seconds, both in shock of his own action and savoring the hot quicksand that was her sweet lips. He noted a tantalizing mix of champagne and honey on them as the ballroom fell deafeningly quiet, while his head began to fill with a thunderous cacophony of thoughts.
He forced himself to release her, only to be met with a look of abject horror on her face. Then came a forceful shove and a hard, stinging slap across his cheek.
Gasps broke out and echoed around the ballroom, the sound reverberating off the walls.
The last thing he saw was a fist full of diamonds as the murmurs turned into a surge of voices, rising like a tidal wave.
His last thought, as the world spun around him, wasshite.
Scheming
13 December 1836
It was dark,and his head spun in a dizzying whirlwind of pain and confusion. A sickening feeling churned in his stomach, and he desperately craved the sweet relief of laudanum. He opened his mouth to speak but found himself unable to utter a word. What a bloody mess he had created.
“Keep your mouth and eyes closed, my lord. Trust me, you don’t want to see yourself. You look positively ghastly,” his valet said.
“You have caused quite a scandal, my lord.” David laughed. “The duke landed his diamond rings right on your nose and below the eyes. Then he swung a left hook to your jaw. He could have blinded you, but I think he knew exactly what he was doing. His Grace has studied the oriental art of fighting. Did you know that? The man looks harmless, but—”
Andrew reached out, pulling on his valet’s wrist, then his thin neck. Despite the pain the exertion caused, he couldn’t stand hearing the man’s name. Every syllable pounded into his head like a sledgehammer.
“Doc… tor,” Andrew managed to rasp.
