Chapter 28

Anthony glanced at Charlotte, who looked at him with laughing eyes as Aunt Eugenia’s capped head and vibrant blue dressing gown appeared in the doorway of the entry hall.

“Good morning, aunt,” Anthony said. “How are you?”

“Don’t how are you me, boy. Tell me what this is about. Are you well? And our dear Charlotte?”

“Yes, aunt.”

“Then what?—”

“Perhaps we can discuss that in a more fitting place and when Charlotte has had some refreshment.” He put a hand on Charlotte’s back.

Aunt Eugenia’s eyes followed the movement, her brows rising until they disappeared under her cap. “Saunders,” she said, her eyes never leaving Anthony’s hand placement. “Refreshment. Breakfast parlor. Immediately.”

Anthony’s mouth twitched. “Saunders, please see that plenty of refreshment is brought. William and Frederick will be here shortly.”

Aunt Eugenia’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“You have time to dress for the day if you wish, aunt,” Anthony said.

“Is that meant to be an insult to this dressing gown?”

“Not at all. Merely a statement about how long Frederick takes to deem himself presentable.”

Charlotte and Anthony had taken seats in the small breakfast parlor, and Aunt Eugenia was pouring tea when Tabitha’s hastily coiffed head of hair appeared in the doorway of the breakfast room. Charlotte’s mother and Lillian were just behind, their eyes full of worry at the news of Charlotte and Anthony’s unexpected and premature return.

Aunt Eugenia motioned for them to come in. She had never poured tea so quickly nor been so efficient seeing to the comfort of her guests, Anthony was certain. The moment the final cup had been filled, she set down the pot. “Now, if you please ...”

“We must wait for William and Frederick,” Anthony said.

Aunt Eugenia let out a huff and took her seat, fingers tapping on the arm rest of her chair just as the door opened, and the brothers appeared.

Normally the most jovial of the bunch, Frederick wore a sour expression and William one of long-suffering that struck Anthony with a jolt of affection. Perhaps things could be different between them going forward—more like the relationship between the Mandeville sisters. If only they would believe the truth.

“Finally,” Aunt Eugenia said, hurrying up to pour them tea. “Now we can begin to understand this highly unusual turn of events.” She directed a pointed gaze at Anthony, then Charlotte.

“I must warn you that the explanation will not be brief”—Anthony ignored the sound of annoyance from Frederick—“and that it requires me to broach a subject you, Frederick, and William dislike.”

Aunt Eugenia’s gaze became wary. “A subject we dislike ...”

Anthony nodded.

Aunt Eugenia studied him. “Silas.”

He nodded again.

“Well, get on with it, then,” she snapped.

Anthony took a deep breath, then embarked on the story of his and Silas’s experience doing business with Drayton, Silas’s suspicions against Langdon, the meeting with Drayton and Langdon’s murder, and Silas’s escape to France.

Anthony paused there, giving the information a chance to settle before he proceeded with the rest of the story.

“We have heard this all before from you, brother,” William said, his intense gaze boring into Anthony. “But Drayton’s testimony directly contradicts this. Besides, why would he undercut his own company?”

“Because he had grander plans, William,” Anthony replied in frustration. “He jumped at the opportunity Silas and Langdon’s well-known animosity presented, killing Langdon and blaming Silas. And now Drayton all but owns the competitor he was colluding with.” William was far too quick to believe the best of those with prestigious titles—a result of the way their father had raised him to value tradition.

“But how can you be certain?” Frederick asked. “You were not there.”

“Because I know Silas!” The words came out angry and condemning, and Charlotte’s hand sought his under the table, her fingers squeezing his. He took a deep breath and spoke in a more measured tone. “If you have doubts on the matter, rest assured they will flee as you hear the rest of the story.”

“Let us hear it, then,” Aunt Eugenia said.

With Charlotte’s hand still in his, Anthony continued, telling of the first diary and his meeting with Charlotte, the particulars that led to their engagement, and the discovery of the second diary. When he reached the bit about Charlotte being taken and bound, her mother’s and both sisters’ hands flew to their mouths.

Charlotte shot them a reassuring smile and nodded for Anthony to continue. He finished with Drayton’s threats, the choice he had been obliged to make, and the burning of the diary.

When he finished, the room was utterly silent.

“Good heavens,” Aunt Eugenia whispered, her eyes staring blankly ahead.

“As you say.” Frederick, too, was unblinking as he processed the information.

William’s brow was furrowed, his mouth covered with a hand as he leaned an elbow on his knee.

“I assume I needn’t mention,” Anthony said, “that everything I have just told you must be kept in the strictest confidence. For Silas’s sake, as well as for Charlotte’s.”

There were nods all around the table.

He directed his attention to the Mandeville women. “Perhaps you are wondering why I have even brought you into such confidence.”

Mrs. Mandeville gave a guilty smile. “I confess to asking myself that precise question, though I am certainly grateful for your trust.”

Anthony glanced at Charlotte beside him, and she shot him the veriest hint of a smile that made his heartbeat skip and stutter. “I tell you,” he said, keeping his eyes on her, “because we are to be family.”

More silence followed, accompanied this time by confused glances. Aunt Eugenia was the only exception, and her eyes danced as a grin stretched across her face.

“Good boy, Anthony,” she said.

“Hold on now,” Frederick said, one hand up. “You’ve only just told us that you became engaged to protect her reputation and that you both had every intention of ending it when the opportunity presented itself.”

“Which was the truth,” Charlotte said. “Until it wasn’t.”

“Are you blind, Frederick?” Aunt Eugenia asked, her smile sapping the insult of its power. “Their little ruse has turned into real romance.”

Anthony pulled their clasped hands from under the table, offering them as a testament to the claims. Charlotte brought them to her mouth and placed a kiss upon his knuckles.

Face wreathed in smiles and eyes full to the brim, Mrs. Mandeville rose from her chair and came to embrace them, and the others soon followed.

Aunt Eugenia set her hands on Anthony’s shoulders and surveyed him with twinkling eyes. “You had me worried, you know.”

“I am well aware,” he replied.

“But you are far too intelligent to let a woman like that slip through your fingers.” She pulled him in, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly. Her tone hushed, she added, “But, just to be sure, you shan’t have the five-hundred pounds until your names are signed in that registry.”

Anthony chuckled and pulled away. “Fair enough.”

William was waiting behind Aunt Eugenia. “Congratulations, brother,” he said, pulling Anthony into his arms.

“Thank you,” Anthony said, his throat thick. It had been some time since he and William had been on the sort of terms that would allow for an embrace.

William’s smile had faded by the time they pulled apart, however, and his brows were knit. “I have been a fool, Anthony. I see that now, and I am ashamed of it.”

Anthony gripped his arm bracingly.

“You have my full support now,” William said. “We will find a way to bring him home.”

Anthony swallowed the emotion in his throat. He should not have given up so easily on persuading them of Silas’s innocence. Silas had feared the danger it would be to them, but what was danger when compared to bringing justice to one’s own family?

“I must write him,” Anthony said. “He should know what has happened, though I wish I had better news to offer.”

“But you do,” William said, nodding at Charlotte, who was laughing with Aunt Eugenia.

Anthony couldn’t stop a smile at the sight. “True enough.”

“What of the wedding date?” William asked.

“I have no date for you,” he replied. “But I mean to marry her as soon as I can manage it.” He strode to Charlotte and slipped his arm around her waist. “May I steal you away for a moment?”

Aunt Eugenia flattened her lips, but there was a twitch at the corner. “If you must.”

“I decidedly must.” Without a backward glance, he led Charlotte away out of the room.

“Where are we going?” Charlotte asked as they walked down the corridor and into the dining room.

“Away from everyone,” he said, pulling her through the room and onto the balcony.

“You were the one who insisted your brothers come,” she said as he shut the doors behind them.

“And yet I have tired of them already.” He whirled toward her, scooped an arm around her waist, and pulled her flush against him, delighting at the sound of her breath catching. “Somehow, when I met you, I could not stand to be near you for seconds, even. And now ...” He brushed her lips with his. “I cannot stand anyone but you.”

“How unsociable of you,” she said, her voice breathless. “Anthony ...”

“Hm?” he asked, teasing her as he swept his lips lightly across hers again.

“Is this not where . . .?”

“It is, my love,” he replied. “The very same place.”

“You nearly ruined my reputation on this balcony.”

“I have no regrets,” he said through a smile.

“I do.”

Anthony drew back just enough to look into her eyes. “What regret?”

There was a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Well, if you were going to ruin my reputation, you ought to have been thorough about it and at least kissed me.”

He chuckled softly, relaxing. “And, what, have my eyes clawed out?”

She had no retort for that.

“I will gladly kiss you here,” he said. “As long and as thoroughly as you could ever wish for. But there is something I must do first.”

Her eyebrows hitched up. “Something more important than kissing your betrothed?”

“Shocking, is it not?”

She laughed softly, but her eyes held a curious light in them.

He lifted her hand, pressed their palms together, and threaded his fingers through hers. “I cannot kiss my betrothed until she has first agreed to be my betrothed. I never had the chance to ask you that question. But I would like to now.”

She took in a shaky breath, her hand squeezing his.

“Will you marry me, Charlotte?” he asked softly. “Truly marry me? Not for reputation, not because Society demands it, and not because Aunt Eugenia will have my head if you do not.”

She laughed nervously, and it delighted him to see her cheeks turning pink.

“Marry me,” he continued, “because you love me as deeply and recklessly as I love you, because now that you have tasted life with me, you cannot bear to think of it without me, as I cannot bear to think of mine without you.” His eyes searched hers. “Will you?”

She gave a quick and fervent nod, her mouth stretched in a smile as full of joy as he could ever wish to see—a smile he promised himself to elicit as often as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, still intertwined with his.

“And now,” he said, locking his eyes on her lips and sliding a hand around her waist. “About that reputation of yours ...”