In The Devil's Stables (Spirited #1)

Chapter 9

"Charlotte."

Charlie turned about slowly across the room and moving, she kept her body between Henry and her trunk lying open behind her. Her chin came up, her eyes daring her uncle to treat her with anything less than respect.

"Nessie. I require a word with my niece." His eyes never left Charlie, his brow furrowing lower and lower on his forehead until his eyebrows were one forbidding scowl.

Nessie hesitated, her desire to obey colliding with her loyalty to Charlie.

"It'll be alright, Ness. I'll ring for you when I'm done."

Her lady's maid gave an abrupt curtsy, but her blue eyes were trained on Charlie, a pleading look from below her brows. If it was a look meant to not upset Henry unnecessarily or for allowing Nessie to be called elsewhere, she didn't know. As soon as the door shut behind Nessie, her uncle stalked closer. "What happened?"

Charlie laughed, the taste bitter on her tongue. "Is that supposed to be your attempt at claiming your innocence? Because it has failed utterly," she said, watching as Henry's brow furrowed. As if in confusion. Charlie found her patience had gone, any residual fear she might have had disappearing into smoke. She didn't know this man at all, it would seem. "No need to fret, Uncle. I can assure you that Lord Simpton did exactly as ordered. A commendable business associate, but a poor excuse I must admit for a gentleman."

His gaze flickered with something she couldn't identify. If she didn't know better - hadn't had a close encounter with the truth of his person - she would have assumed it was sorrow.

Pain.

Guilt, more like, Charlie was sure.

Her ire built, her palm tingling with the urge to strike out, her shoulders stiff, ready, as if at any moment, she would need to protect herself.

Her uncle had begun to pace. A lock of brown hair, so similar to her own, slid onto his downturned face, tumbling into his eyes. The silence was deafening with only the thrum of his steady foot treads.

Henry stopped abruptly, running a hand through his wavy locks. She had seen desperation enough times with the gentlemen Henry dealt with to know he was afflicted in a similar fashion. Charlie might have cared once, but no longer.

"I didn't know...I didn't mean for that to happen -"

Charlie scoffed. "He was quite forthcoming about the whole business. In fact, it was Simpton's declaration that he could force my hand 'in any way that he wished' that sticks in my mind!"

Her voice had risen steadily until she ended her speech with a shout. It echoed in the room.

"I told him to win your affections," Henry urged, taking a step in her direction. "He took my words for his own purposes, Charlotte-"

"It's Lady Charlotte, Uncle," Charlie broke in. She took a deep breath, releasing it in a steady exhale. It hardly mattered, she reminded herself. By morning, she would be gone. When Charlie was calm enough, her eyes locked with her uncle's. "You have ceased the privilege of addressing me by my name two seconds after you inherited my parent's position in society so happily."

Henry turned on his heel. He stood with his back to her, glaring at the carpeting, his hand clasping his neck. "You know nothing of what has happened. If I hadn't taken over as your guardian, done things that needed to be done, even now, you could be destitute. Perhaps find yourself in the care of a third cousin who could have married you off as soon as he was able!" Henry visibly shook. He faced her, glowering. "You know nothing of what I have had to do to keep -"

"I know of everything you have done!" Charlie gestured to the gown lying beaten and muddy in the middle of her bedchamber. "By God, you had him attack me! I had his hands upon my flesh, and you endorsed his behavior -"