Page 86 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
“I would prefer if she stayed here,” Townsend interjected.
“I’m sure you would,” Flora grumbled, her teeth bared at the man.
“Do you doubt my word?” Inverray’s voice could have cut glass.
“I do not.” Townsend smoothed hands down his lapels. “But Mrs. Taylor manipulated my son, and despite your best intentions, I’m convinced she’ll try to use her wiles on you.”
“Crafty, I tell you,” Mrs. Townsend added, thrusting her chin in Charlotte’s direction.
Lord Inverray rolled his eyes. “I assure you, I have the utmost respect for Mrs. Taylor, but I’ll not have my head turned.”
“Warden, may we have a moment to speak in private?” Mr. Townsend clasped his hands together, the picture of politeness.
“Of course,” the man said before he stepped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Charlotte, Lady Flora, and Lord Inverray slid their gazes to Townsend. Unease threatened to choke her. Why had he requested to speak with them in private?
Keeping his hands clasped in front of his large belly, he rocked on his feet. “I feel we are at a crossroads, my lord. You believe Mrs. Taylor should be allowed to return to your luxurious home in Mayfair, where she’ll enjoy all the comforts your stately townhome has to offer. I believe she should stay here as a punishment for her crime.”
“Only you deem it a crime.”
“Be that as it may,” the older man conceded, “I feel we can come to a compromise.”
“Is that so.” The marquess flexed his jaw. “And what do you propose?”
“Here is my proposition: you leave now without Mrs. Taylor, and I won’t disclose that a known thief is working for you as a teacher.”
“Ibegyour pardon.”Flora’s voice had risen an octave, the color high in her cheeks.
“Explain yourself,” Lord Inverray demanded.
“It has come to my attention your little foundling home is seeking additional donors.” Townsend lifted a shoulder. “You certainly won’t attract the illustrious patrons you desire with a criminal on your staff.”
Cor, it’s what she had feared, except Mr. Townsend wasn’t threatening to ruin Finlay, but her employers. She pressed a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. After everything his lordship and Lady Flora had done for her, Townsend was intent on destroying their hard work for it.
Gulping a breath of air, Charlotte affixed an approximation of a smile on her face and laid a hand on her friend’s arm.“Perhaps it would be best if you and his lordship left. I will be all right. You know I’ve survived worse.”
“But you shouldn’t have had to,” a wonderfully familiar voice declared.
With a gasp, Charlotte jerked her gaze to the door. There stood Finlay, a striking, dark-skinned gentleman behind him. But Charlotte processed this detail in passing, for her eyes wanted only to rest on the viscount. She released a shaky breath, as if just his presence had reminded her heart to beat again.
Prowling into the room, he stopped when he stood adjacent to her chair, and his heat thawed the parts of herself she’d thought were better left frozen. “Mrs. Taylor will be leaving this godforsaken place today, and allow me to explain why.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It took every ounce of discipline Finlay possessed not to draw Charlotte into his arms and hold her close. Her skin was starkly pale. Her eyes were haunted. Her hair was lank and damp. She looked like she had just stolen across the river Styx and had not yet reclaimed her corporeal form.
But if he was to free her from this place, and from the threat of her former in-laws, he needed to focus.
After a surprised pause, Mr. Townsend dipped his head and offered him a benign smile. “Good gracious, Lord Firthwell, I did not expect to see you here.” Sliding his gaze to Charlotte, he smiled. “Whatever would people say if they knew why you’d come?”
Rage turned his vision red, but he didn’t react to the taunt. He was saved from responding when Inverray crossed the room and extended a hand in greeting to him and then to Darington. “Your Grace, it’s a pleasure to see you. I hadn’t realized you’d returned.”
“Just yesterday, in fact.” Darington shook the marquess’s hand. “Once I learned what was happening here, I insisted on accompanying Firthwell.”
“And I appreciate it. Darington, this is the man I told you of. Mr. Townsend.” Turning to the older man, he gestured to his brother-in-law with his hand. “This is His Grace, the Duke of Darington.”
Townsend’s head jerked back, but he quickly recovered, bowing politely. “Your Grace. I’m honored to make your acquaintance.”
