Page 77 of Touched By a Traitor
“Suffice it to say, I have not slept well since your nuptials,” he confessed, settling into the chair beside her.
“Have you been lonely, then?”
“Immensely so. I feel as though an arrow has pierced my heart. Though we correspond, it is a poor substitute.”
Charlotte took a deep breath, steeling herself for the words that would follow. “Then perhaps fortune smiles upon you, for I may soon be leaving my husband.”
Chatham’s eyes widened in shock. “Why ever would you do such a thing? I was under the impression that you and Carlisle were quite content together.”
Unable to meet his gaze, Charlotte lowered her head, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “I may have loved a different man, an illusion of the one I thought I knew. It seems I loved the version of himself that he presented to me. It has come to light that he may have been plotting my disbarment and ruination from the very beginning. Now, I find myself questioning everything I once held true.”
The duke leaned forward, his voice gentle and coaxing as he offered her a crisp linen kerchief. “Tell me, what has led you to suspect such treachery on Carlisle’s part?”
Charlotte accepted the kerchief gratefully, dabbing at her reddened eyes as she spoke. “It was Lord Byron who came to me, claiming that Lord Wilson and other shareholders had confessed the plot.”
“He wouldn’t be the most impartial source. However, I’ve heard Wilson repeat the same confession to anyone who would listen. It seems he is determined to make your life miserable.”
She nodded and raised her gaze to meet Chatham’s, her face half-hidden behind his kerchief. “Do you believe these allegations are true?”
The duke’s expression turned regretful. “If it were Wilson alone, I may doubt his words, but other shareholders have verified the claim.”
A thin shriek of despair escaped her throat as she covered her mouth with the soft fabric and began to wail. Chatham reached out, embracing her tightly, his visage absorbing some of her pain. After a long while, when her cries became sniffles, he grasped Charlotte’s hand tightly in his own. “I shall do anything you wish, Charlotte. How can I assist you now?”
Charlotte took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she met his gaze. “I suppose I must speak with him, confront him.” Her voice trembled slightly from the fear of the pain that threatened to overwhelm her.
Chatham’s grip on her hand tightened, his thumb stroking the delicate skin of her wrist. “Will you be all right to face him alone?”
She smiled faintly, an attempt to put His Grace’s mind at ease. “Yes, I believe so,” she said, her voice steadier than before.
Chatham’s eyes softened, a flicker of tenderness amidst the concern that etched his features. “You are always welcome to stay with me, Charlotte, if you can bear the scandal that may follow.”
Dimples appeared in her cheeks, a brief flash of humor in the face of her despair. “Thank you, but I may ask Madam Tansley if I may stay with her for a while. It may be the perfect location for us to rendezvous if you wished.”
The duke’s countenance brightened, making him look much younger in an instant. Rising to her feet, Charlotte disentangled her hand from Chatham’s, her fingers lingering for a moment in his warm, comforting grasp. “I cannot thank you enough for your kindness and your unwavering support.”
Chatham stood as well, bowing his head in a gesture of respect and affection. “Think nothing of it. I am, and always shall be, your most devoted friend.”
With a final, grateful smile, Charlotte turned and made her way toward the door, her skirts swishing softly against the polished wood floor. As she stepped out into the corridor, she could feel the weight of Chatham’s gaze upon her back.
As she walked through the halls of the Inner Temple, Charlotte’s heart was a battleground of emotions. Despair and hope mingled in a dizzying dance. The thought of confronting Andrew, of facing the man who had so callously betrayed hertrust, filled her with a sickening dread, but beneath that fear, there was a spark of the indomitable spirit that had carried her through so many challenges before.
And so, with a deep breath and a lifted chin, Charlotte stepped out into the bustling streets of London.
The Breaking Point
Andrew’s voice thunderedthrough the halls, his anger palpable in every syllable, when Charlotte crossed the threshold of their home. “Where have you been?” he roared, his eyes flashing.
Acutely aware of the servants’ presence, Charlotte chose not to respond, instead striding past him with purposeful steps toward their bedchamber. Andrew followed closely behind, his silence a heavy weight upon the air between them. Once they were secluded within the privacy of their room, he closed the door with a resolute click, his gaze fixed on her face.
Charlotte turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in his expression. In an instant, the anger that had contorted his features melted away, replaced by a look of deep concern. “What happened?”
The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache.
“Lord Byron intercepted me on the street,” she replied, her tone even and controlled, betraying the tumult of emotions that raged within her.
Andrew’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he registered the implications of her words. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice sharp as a dagger’s edge.
“Not in the way you might think,” Charlotte said, her gaze never wavering from his. “He told me you had planned all along to destroy my career to appease your shareholders. Is it true?”
