Page 75 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
Yet, gloom hung low and heavy in Charlotte’s flat.
She sat, her spine straight, on the edge of a narrow chair near the window. She scanned the space, marveling at its familiarity but strange otherness. For the last few hours, she’d packed her belongings, shutting away the bittersweet memories in knapsacks and muslin bags. She’d donated the majority of her books to the foundling home, keeping only a small number she couldn’t bear to part with. She’d sold her homemade rug, dishes, utensils, furniture, and her finest dress.
All that remained of her life could fit inside a small valise.
Now she sat, pondering when Finlay would come. She knew he would. His pride, his livelihood, his very future were threatened by the tarnished gold locket that lay on her chest. Although she yearned for one last glimpse of him, she didn’t think she could abide his condemnation.
A knock sounded on the door, and she crept to it, licking her lips and asking softly, “Who is it?”
“Open the door this instant, Charlotte!”
Stifling a sigh, she slid the lock free.
“You have one minute to tell me why you resigned your position at the home,” Lady Flora demanded, shouldering past Charlotte. She was dressed in a coquelicot-colored gown, her ebony curls swept up into an elaborate updo. It was obvious she had evening plans.
The woman came to a stop in the center of the room, her eyes widening as she took in the bare walls and near emptiness. “And why are all your belongings gone?”
“You’re no longer my employer, my lady, so you no longer have the luxury of demanding a response.” Catching Lady Flora’s exasperated expression, Charlotte huffed, “I’m leaving.”
“Well, of course you are, but why?” Lady Flora exclaimed, sinking onto the edge of her bed.
Charlotte sat on the hardback chair again and knotted her hands in her lap. “Circumstances have arisen that make my continued employment at the home impossible.”
The woman stared at her. “Do thesecircumstances, as you call them, involve Lord Firthwell?”
Charlotte sucked in a gulp of air. “What gave you the idea anything in my life involved Lord Firthwell?”
“Do you really want me to answer that question?” Lady Flora tilted her head to the side. “I would be happy to list some examples.”
“Oh, sod off,” Charlotte grumbled, turning her back to her.
She wasn’t sure what she expected after such an uncharacteristic outburst, but it certainly wasn’t deep-throated laughter. She frowned as Flora laughed so hard she had to brace her arm on the mattress to keep from falling over.
“Faith! That was delightful.” She adjusted the opal pendant around her neck as she considered Charlotte with shrewd eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
For reasons she could not pinpoint, Charlotte found herself confessing the whole situation with the Townsends, their demands, and how she planned to use Finlay’s greatest secret against him to free herself from her former in-laws’ clutches. And although she didn’t divulge what that secret was, based on the way she clenched her jaw, Charlotte suspected the woman already knew.
Lady Flora tapped her lips with a finger. After a tense moment, she said, “I will happily give you the money. It’s a small fortune, to be sure, but my sister would loan me the funds. Why would you use that?” She gestured toward the locket that rested heavy on her chest. “There was no reason to involve Firthwell.”
“I need him to hate me.” She swallowed as if jagged glass filled her throat, mentally bracing for the question she knew was coming.
“I don’t understand. Why does he need to hate you?”
“Because sooner or later, he’ll learn what a horrible hindrance I am to his chance to win the Weobley seat. To climb the ranks of Parliament.” Charlotte rubbed her fists into her eyes, desperate for an excuse not to meet Lady Flora’s gaze. “And he’s so far out of my realm. He’s…he’s like Helios. Bright, beautiful, lighting up the world with his noble ideas.” She looked down at her red, chapped hands. “And I’m Icarus. Destined to burn and crash to Earth if I get too close.”
The room grew silent.
Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut as her mind replayed the crushing moment Finlay realized she was not willing to part with the locket. The shocked and then devastated expression on his dear face. The hitch in his voice when he talked. The memories threatened to choke her.
“Oh, Charlotte,” Lady Flora sighed at last. Charlotte noted how she didn’t dispute her assertion.
“And I’m terrified if I don’t give the Townsends what they want, they will threaten Finlay and his campaign. They know he was here. They can use my association with him to smear his name in the broadsheets, and he’s worked so hard to overcome his ne’er-do-well reputation. I would be gutted if their hatred for me kept him from realizing the goal he’s labored for.”
The woman scowled. “They also have had to see me, I assume. Surely, they realize you have your own connections.”
“They’ll blackmail you, too. You are attempting to form a patroness group for the home, are you not?”
Lady Flora gave a sharp gasp of “Bollocks!” Her gaze danced about in thought. “Let me speak with my brother. Between the two of us, I’m certain we will be able to come up with a solution that will benefit you, Firthwell, and the home.”
