Page 12 of An Unwilling Earl
But he would want to know what a dirty, scrappy lad was doing in this part of town, and she would have no answer. And then he would call the constable and she would be hauled away.
He turned down another street, and Charlotte had a funny feeling in her stomach. She knew this street. Sarah lived on this street.
Charlotte searched for her best friend’s house, a powerful yearning overcoming her. If she knocked on the front door she would be welcomed inside, no questions asked. Sarah’s mother would give her a fierce hug, and Charlotte would be fed and bathed and taken care of.
But she also knew she couldn’t do that to Sarah or her family. There were too many secrets she kept, too much she knew, and if her presence were discovered she would be forced to return to her aunt’s house, and she couldn’t go back there.
…
Jacob jogged up the steps of the Crawford residence. Warm lights shined from the windows, illuminating the dreary day.
He’d debated coming here, mostly because he knew he shouldn’t involve himself in the disappearance of Charlotte Morris. However, Lady Morris’s odd behavior, coupled with the fact that Charlotte was directly related to a formidable family who refused to acknowledge her existence, intrigued him. And then there were the dead bodies.
What if Charlotte was one of them? Didn’t her family have a right to know? Even if her family was coldhearted and refused to acknowledge her?
But if he were to get to the heart of the matter and be completely honest with himself, it was Charlotte herself that was prodding Jacob on. He felt she needed a voice, someone to fight for her, whatever her circumstances were. Call it mad, but he wanted to be Charlotte’s voice. Maybe there was one last thing he could do before fully stepping into Society.
He knocked on the Crawfords’ door and glanced over his shoulder. There was an itchy feeling between his shoulder blades that made him uncomfortable, as if someone were watching him.
The door was opened by a pleasant-looking butler.
Jacob presented his calling card. “Jacob Baker for Lady Sarah Crawford.”
The butler nodded and let Jacob in, closing the door behind him on the chill and damp of the day. The Crawford entryway was well lit, but more importantly, it was warm. Jacob shrugged out of his coat and handed it, along with his hat, to the butler. He was admitted to a formal sitting room where the butler instructed him to wait.
He meandered through the room, looking at the paintings of past Crawfords and the knickknacks that made up the Crawfords’ lives.
He paused at the tall window that overlooked the street and peered out, that uneasy feeling following him into the house. The day was growing darker with rain clouds, and he knew he was perilously close to being past the proper time for calling on people. A steady pitter-patter of rain pelted the window, and he wished he were back at his house, in front of his fire, with his law books, researching a new case.
The door behind him opened, and through the reflection of the window he saw a woman enter. When he turned he surmised that this could not be Lady Sarah, unless Charlotte’s good friend was about twenty years older than her.
“Lord Ashland.” The older woman smiled as she glided toward him, and he presumed that this must be Sarah’s mother, Lady Crawford.
She had the latest gossip. Armbruster was correct. Everyone knew.
He bowed. “Lady Crawford, I presume?”
She nodded, her eyes curious. She was a handsome woman and, in her youth, would have been a beauty of the first water. Blond hair swept away from her face, and a lithe figure was clothed in a very becoming blue gown.
“I have come to speak to Lady Sarah, if you don’t mind.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Of course I don’t mind. She’s on her way down. In the meantime, I will ring for tea.”
“Oh, you don’t need to go to the trouble. I just wanted a few words with her.”
The smile slowly faded, and Jacob suddenly realized what this looked like. A newly minted,availableearl calling on an available young miss on the spur of the moment.
He wanted to tell Lady Crawford that he was not here to court Lady Sarah, but then he realized something important. If they presumed he was here for romantic reasons they would be more willing to let him speak to Sarah.
So instead he smiled. “Tea would be nice. Thank you.”
Everything once again right with her presumption, she went about ordering the tea while Jacob tried to figure out how to get out of the mess he’d inadvertently created.
Lady Sarah appeared as the tea rolled in. She was a beautiful young woman, an exact replica of her mother, twenty years younger.
She approached him, her smile as warm as the tea was going to be.
Jacob bowed over her hand. “Forgive me for arriving unannounced.”
