Page 46 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
Finlay leapt the stairs leading to the Campbell House front door in two jumps. His mother would have cringed at his actions, but he didn’t feel chagrined. He flexed his hands in his kid leather gloves, and the sensation of them stretching around his knuckles was oddly soothing to his agitated mind.
Since Charlotte had departed from the Eddingtons’ with Lady Flora the night before, he’d replayed over and over the moment panic had transformed her face from merriment to pure fright.
After the women had left, he’d circled the room twice, trying to locate who or what had frightened her so. It was an impossible task, though, for she had provided him no information to work with. He’d finally allowed Lady Eddington to escort him to a seat in the first row so that he might enjoy her daughter’s performance.
And even while Miss Eddington coaxed notes from the pianoforte, Finlay worried about Charlotte. After the attempted abduction near the foundling home and then her strange reaction at the musicale, it was obvious she was in trouble. He was finally going to get answers from her.
He paused, his hand hovering over the knocker, and wondered once again why her problems mattered to him. She’d never asked for his help and still seemed determined to keep him at a distance, even while her pulse raced at the base of her neck whenever he was near her.
And yet…he couldn’t stand by when she was in danger. His conscience, his very being, rebelled against the notion of doing nothing.
If he pressed her, would she be honest about what was haunting her? He’d like to think that they’d become friends in the short time they had become reacquainted…but he could never really tell with her.
Inhaling deeply, he reached to sound the knocker when the door opened before him. The Campbell House butler welcomed him into the elegant foyer and escorted him to a sitting room, informing him he would notify Mrs. Taylor of his request for an audience.
Finlay prowled about the room, picking up random knickknacks and turning them over in his hands before plopping them down again. He brushed the silk curtains away from the window, observing traffic in Grovesnor Square for a short moment before letting the drapes fall back into place. He crossed to the fireplace and grasped the mantel with both hands as he peered up at the portrait of the red-haired woman he suspected might be the late duchess.
The door opened behind him, and he spun around to see Charlotte slip silently into the room. Her dark, nondescript dress and severe coiffure highlighted her pale cheeks and the bruises under her striking blue eyes. She didn’t move away from the door when she clasped her hands in front of her.
“My lord.”
“Mrs. Taylor.” Finlay took a step toward her, but she quickly moved to her right, positioning a blue wingback chair between them.
“Would you care for some tea?” She spoke to her hands, which were now curled around the seat back. “Mr. Stewart offered to send a tray up, but I wasn’t certain how long your visit would be.”
He planted his feet in front of the blue chair, staring at her downturned face. “I plan on being here for exactly as long at it takes for you to tell me what’s going on.”
Her head jerked up, and she scowled. “I don’t owe you any explanation. Who are you to demand answers from me?”
“Of course you don’t.” Finlay exhaled. “I’m not trying to order you about, but I had hoped I was your friend. You don’t have to face everything on your own now. I want to help.”
Finlay watched in mounting frustration as she clenched her eyes shut and shook her head.
“I have never had the luxury of trusting others.” She angled her chin toward the fireplace but kept her eyes closed. “It’s only ever been me and my wits.”
“What about your cousin?” Finlay asked. “The one who…who tried to find you work last summer.” He felt hot under his collar as he remembered the sort of job her cousin intended for her at Belling’s house party.
He suspected he’d just proved her point.
“Eliza?”Charlotte scoffed.“Eliza’s parents took me in after my parents died, but they already had six children to care for. I was forced out of their home before I turned fifteen.”
“Oh,” he said dumbly. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. At fifteen, he’d been busy getting into scrapes and pulling off pranks at Eton. “What did you do?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I worked. All day, every day. I was lucky to find employment at a cobbler shop helping to stretch leather. The pay was poor at first, but they gave me food and a pallet to sleep on near the grate in the shop. The shopkeeper and his wife were kind to me, and I worked hard for them in return.” Her gaze grew distant. “I thanked God every day for that job. Without it, my life might have turned out very much like Eliza’s.”
Finlay worked to swallow down the lump that had lodged in his throat. He’d never met anyone as stubborn or brave or determined as Charlotte Taylor.
And though he didn’t want to ask it, knowing it would hurt to hear, he said, “And what of your husband? Couldn’t you depend on him?”
Charlotte was silent for a long moment. “In the end, I learned I couldn’t.”
Gently grabbing her elbow, he dragged her around to take a seat. Pulling a nearby chaise closer, he sat and leaned in. “Tell me.” She arched a defiant brow, and he hastened to add, “Please.”
She twisted her hands in her lap for several minutes, her breath coming in short puffs that teased the silky strands of dark hair that curled about her face. Her agitated state made him nervous for whatever it was she struggled to share.
“Roderick’s parents never approved of me. He came from an old, wealthy family. Though they were untitled, they had many connections and were actively involved in politics. They expected him to stand for Parliament, just like his father.” A deep exhale shook her frame. “But he had other plans.”
She rose suddenly and crossed to the windows, toying with the drapes as she trained her gaze on the activity in the square. “By the time I met him, he’d already secured a post with the East India Company. His parents weren’t happy, but they were willing to let him explore for several years.” She peered over her shoulder at him. “They had not anticipated him marrying before he left.”
