Page 63 of Touched By a Traitor
“My lord, how wonderful to see you.” A young woman with chestnut-brown hair approached them, her arms outstretched in a gesture of warm welcome. Charlotte watched, her brows raised in question, as Andrew gripped the woman’s hands merrily and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Their overfamiliarity sent a pang of jealousy through her heart.
“Cecilia, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Andrew said.
“I happened to be visiting when trouble began.” Cecilia smiled brightly, as if there were nothing she couldn’t conquer.
“Trouble does like to follow you.” Andrew’s tone was flirtatious, a stark contrast to the simmering anger that bubbled inside Charlotte. But just as she felt the first tendrils of resentment take hold, Andrew placed a hand on her back, drawing her nearer to his side.
“Charlotte, may I present Miss Cecilia Wood? She works for Madam Tansley.”
Forcing a smile to her lips, Charlotte nodded in acknowledgment, her discomfort palpable in the air between them. “Cecilia, this is my wife, Charlotte,” Andrew said, his voice filled with pride.
Cecilia’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise and delight. “How wonderful! I heard you becameengaged in the most spectacular fashion. I had no idea you’d already be married!”
Before Charlotte could react, Cecilia enveloped Andrew in an enthusiastic embrace, her lips brushing against his cheeks in a display of unbridled joy. Then she turned her attention to Charlotte. The woman’s arms wrapped around her rigid form, and the scent of white powder filled her nostrils.
As Cecilia released her, her happiness genuine and unguarded, Charlotte felt a flicker of ease begin to take root. But still, the mysterious purpose of the house nagged at her. Glancing around, she realized the house was filled with young, beautiful women.
“Tell me what’s happening here, Cecilia,” Andrew said, his voice solemn.
“Come, I’ll show you.” Cecilia led the way, her steps as confident as the mistress of the house might be. As they walked, maids passed by with warm and welcoming smiles.
“What manner of establishment is this?” Charlotte inquired, as they walked past a modest but well-appointed parlor with its simple wooden furnishings and cheerful yellow curtains.
“Since Lord Carlisle brought you here, I presume I may speak freely. This is a sanctuary for women of unfortunate circumstances, my lady,” Cecilia said gently, her weathered hands folded in her lap. “Former ladies of the evening who seek a different path.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened, her fan snapping shut with an audible click as she turned to regard her husband with newfound curiosity.
“Madam Tansley aids women who have fallen into dire straits,” Cecilia continued, gesturing toward the adjoining rooms where the soft murmur of feminine voices could be heard. “The residents are provided shelter here and at several other establishments until they might secure respectable employment,establish modest enterprises, or perhaps make advantageous marriages.”
“And pray tell, what part do you play in these charitable endeavors?” Charlotte asked Andrew, one delicate eyebrow arched in inquiry.
“I provide stud services,” Andrew replied with perfect gravity, “ensuring a steady supply of orphans for the workhouses.”
“Andrew!” Charlotte gasped, her cheeks flushing crimson. “That is neither amusing nor appropriate!”
“Indeed, my lord!” Cecilia scolded, though her lips twitched with suppressed mirth.
“I must respectfully disagree with both of you ladies,” he said, his dark eyes dancing with mischief.
Cecilia stopped in front of a door and turned to face them both. She leaned toward Charlotte and lowered her voice. “Andrew funds the entire operation.”
Stunned by this revelation, Charlotte barely noticed Cecilia entering the room and inviting them inside. A young woman was in bed with two young children on her lap. After a brief introduction, Cecilia said, “They were the first ones to become ill. They had just returned from the north, so we’re not sure if the villagers were exposed.”
“I haven’t heard of an epidemic. I shall investigate. How many have fallen ill?” Andrew asked.
From there, Andrew and Charlotte spoke to the villagers, assessing the situation and determining their needs. They confirmed that no villagers were affected, but Andrew dispatched help and supplies lest that changed quickly. They hired a carriage to nearby towns, purchasing toys, mittens, medicine, and locating physicians and nurses to monitor the patients.
Dusk settled when they returned home, during which time Charlotte learned Andrew had been on a rescue mission when he had discovered her with Chatham.
The cabin was immersed in a golden glow from the setting sun when they arrived. Andrew immediately began writing letters to his secretary, physicians, and Madam. Charlotte quietly prepared supper, careful not to disturb his concentration, which was just as well. She needed to digest the fact that her husband, whom she thought lived for wealth only, was, in fact, a philanthropist. And a more honorable cause she could not imagine, because given the secrecy, his involvement would never be publicized or glorified.
While they ate in silence, Charlotte studied him, her heart reaching out to him, and some of the tenderness she had felt toward him all those years ago began to stir. She thought he had become unrecognizable, but perhaps she had judged too quickly. Andrew, engrossed in his work, left his meal untouched. Charlotte stood and placed a spoonful of stew at his lips, nudging him to open. He did her bidding and ate obediently until he looked up in surprise.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were feeding me. I tend to become oblivious when working.”
Charlotte smiled. “We have that in common.”
He shook his head woefully. “We’ll need to hire nurses and nannies to ensure we don’t forget to feed our children.”
