An English Lord's Love Affair

Chapter 26.1. Most Wicked Trouble

   Charlotte and Finni had just the library when a deep rumbling came from within the walls of the house. It was an unnatural noise, the warning groan of hell being unleashed. Charlotte's heart seemed to cease beating as she sprinted up the seemingly endless staircase to the long gallery, Finni overtaking her, Ares staring at her side.

   They were not alone.

   Behind her the servants of Strathmere Hall had just returned from church, their cars clattering through the open gate. In a matter of minutes they would resume their positions in the house. The housekeeper would put on her apron and ask Sir Edward if he cared to take his luncheon in the dining hall or in his office.

   Unless Sir Edward's days of dining as a usurper at Benedic's table were done. Charlotte did not pause to take a breath at the top of the staircase. Sunlight poured in through the glazed windows of the gallery. But the silence felt ominous, worse even than the rumbling that had preceded it. The entrance to Benedic's secret hiding place was wide open, dark and uninviting.

   She rushed toward it.

   She was not alone.

   Behind her Benedic's well-trained servants, sensing something was amiss in the house, came surging up the staircase in a wave of indignant apprehension. Had the murderer struck again? Why else had the gatehouse door been left open, with Finni nowhere to be found?

   Would they discover Sir Edward stabbed to death in the same bed as their former master? The butler and footmen took command of the irregular army. The housemaids brought up the rear, wielding dusters and mops. And then an authoritative voice broke through the anxious whispering.

   The small figure of Lady Crowbridge in a feathered bonnet and beaded pelisse shouldered a path straight to Charlotte. Her daughter, Paulina, followed, panting for breath, accompanied by her bewildered-looking sweetheart, Colton.

   "Aunt Penelope!" Charlotte said, steeling herself at the grim expression on the woman's face. This was not at all the way she wanted her aunt to find out the truth. "What are you doing here?"

   Penelope peered over Charlotte's shoulder. "I should ask you and my husband the same thing. Where is the rascal?"

   "Which rascal would that be?"

   "Do not play innocent with me, young lady. I am not stupid. I asked Paulina what everyone was hiding from me, and that is why I am here."

   Charlotte glanced helplessly at Paulina, who had launched into another one of her indecipherable pantomimes behind her mother's back.

   "You're here because . . . because I lent Paulina my scandalous corset?"

   Aunt Penelope swung around to study her daughter's figure. "What corset?"

   Paulina shook her head. "I've no idea what anyone is talking about."

   Charlotte edged closer to the entrance of the hiding hole. Aleister, Finni, and her uncle would not have remained inside the vault all this time of Benedic were hurt.

   Unless they were covering his body, tending his injuries. Unless they'd had to subdue Edward, and .  .  . Charlotte's head swam with unspeakable images. Dominic would prevail. He had the advantage this time over his uncle. He'd had weeks to prepare, to plan. He had promised to come back to her, and he was a man of his word if nothing else. He was determined, her devil, the other half of her wicked soul.

   She went still at the heavy tread of a footstep from inside the hidden passage. She knew in her heart it was him. She spun around, her entire focus on the figure that emerged into the light.

   For a frightening second she did not recognize him.

   Her mouth opened on a soundless laugh. His tall, lean figure was coated in a heavy layer of white grainy dust. A ghostly shroud from top to bottom. His thick black hair, his eyebrows, his cheeks, the shoulders and sleeves of his lace-trimmed highwayman's shirt, the black knee breeches and jack boots.

   But it was him, safe, whole, walking toward her while she stood transfixed by the sight, by what it meant.

   "Dear God, have mercy!" a kitchen maid shrieked from the bottom of the stairs. " 'Tis himself—the Strathmere Ghost!"

   Aunt Penelope put her arms around Paulina, the feathers on her bonnet quivering. Charlotte covertly dropped the poker on the floor.

   Silence engulfed the gallery. No one moved. No one dared to speak again. A smile broke across Charlotte's face. Covered in that chalky film, he did indeed look like a ghost risen from the grave.

   Then Benedic's mocking gaze found Charlotte's face, the pure fire of passion and resolution smoldering in his gray eyes. She was not conscious of moving, of walking toward him. He had come back. He had kept his word, and suddenly all well in the world again. Her mind began to function once more. Joy bubbled up inside her, fierce and cleansing. There were suddenly new problems to face, consequences to consider.

   If she went to him, then everyone would know, would realize that they had been having a romantic relationship. Everyone would guess that she loved him, that the fast young lady from London had become embroiled in another scandal. That this time she had gotten involved in the worst, the most wicked trouble of her life.

   And everyone would be right.