Chapter 31

Chapter 31

"Please," Alexander said, pleading with the butler. "I know this is tremendously undignified for a man in my position, but I beg of you. Five minutes with Lady Charlotte is all I ask. One minute, if that is all you'll give me."

The butler sighed, pulling the door closed behind him as he stepped out of the house. "I am very sorry, Your Grace, but that won't be possible."

"Can't you ask her, just once, for me, please?"

The butler shook his head. "It's not that, Your Grace. Lady Charlotte is no longer in residence here."

Alexander sucked in his breath and straightened. "You mean she has left? How long will she be away?"

The butler shrugged. "I'm afraid I am not privy to that information, Your Grace, but I believe it will be quite some time."

"Where have—never mind. You can't tell me, and it would be unfair of me to expect you to."

Alexander turned and meandered away, feeling more lost than he ever had. He supposed he had to accept it was over. What other choice did he have? He slumped away from the house, ignoring the butler, ignoring even his own idling carriage. He couldn't face going home. Instead, he wandered into town.

Perhaps he'd find a little tavern somewhere or find his way to the club. He ought to work, he knew that. He ought to work on his investments or find a way of bringing in more wealth, but he didn't have the heart for it any longer. Without Charlotte, what was the point in anything? Financial ruin mattered so little when one had a broken heart.

He wasn't truly looking where he was going, nor did he really care. He pushed his way through the people as he reached the busy streets, and soon enough, he walked straight into another man. He jumped back and muttered an apology before trying to make his way past.

"Your Grace? Is that you?"

Alexander raised his head to find himself face to face with Arthur Mulligan, the nephew of Lady Fairchild. He would remember him anywhere, for he had been insanely jealous that evening over dinner, when Charlotte giggled at his wit and seemed entirely engrossed in their conversation.

"Oh, Mr. Mulligan," he replied and again, tried to push past.

"Are you quite all right?" Mulligan asked. "Forgive my saying so, but you look a little peaky."

Alexander sighed. "It's Lady Charlotte," he said. "She's gone."

"Oh dear," Mulligan replied, though it was evident that he didn't fully understand the connotations. "I had heard they'd gone to the countryside for a little rest and recuperation. Were you hoping to see them for some reason?"

He wasn't sure why he did it, but in that moment, on the street and to this near stranger, Alexander bared his soul. He poured it all out—his love, his hurt, his desperation to get her back. The betrayal he had faced at the hands of Lucille on two counts.

"Goodness," was all Mulligan could say, and Alexander wondered if he'd made a mistake. It was foolish for any man to reveal himself so fully, especially to one he hardly knew, but something inside him told him that Mulligan was trustworthy, even if he had the ability to make Charlotte smile.

"I'm sorry," Alexander said with a shake of his head. "I should not have burdened you with such a thing. But before I leave, do you happen to know where they might have gone? Perhaps a family home in the country somewhere, or…"

Mulligan chewed his bottom lip. He knew something, that much was clear. Alexander just needed to know what.

"I have an idea, yes," Mulligan said, "but I think we ought to visit Lady Lucille first."

Alexander balked and stepped backward, his hands raised in the air as if to defend himself. "With all due respect, Mulligan, I do not want to see her ever again. Whatever plan you and she have cooked up—"

"It's not that," Mulligan said. He held his hand out pleadingly, people bustling around him. "I'm not surprised you are having difficulty trusting anyone but listening to your story… I have come to believe that there is more to this than meets the eye."

"Such as?"

Mulligan pushed his breath out of his nose. "I don't want to make assumptions," he said. "Just in case I'm wrong. But I believe Lady Lucille will have the answers."

Alexander snorted, shaking his head. "And why on earth do you think she would give us those?"

"Because she has already lost everything," Mulligan said with a shrug. "And so have you, by all accounts. Humor me, will you? And then I will tell you everything I know."

And so it was that Alexander found himself with Arthur Mulligan on the doorstep of Lady Lucille's home.

"What do you want?" Lucille asked when they were shown into the drawing room. "Mother and Father are out, and I am quite alone."

To Alexander's surprise, she looked exhausted, as if she hadn't slept in days.

Like me.

He almost felt a twist of pity for her. Almost. Any misery she was suffering, she had brought on herself. Just as she had brought on his.

"Good," he replied. "For I doubt you want your parents to know what a manipulative and cruel woman you are."

Lucille sighed and flopped back on the couch, any drop of her elegant, lady-like grace disappeared beneath a layer of something Alexander didn't recognize. It was as if she had given up on life.

"All right," Mulligan said, taking a seat on the opposite couch. "Let's not get into that. We're here for a reason. Your Grace, you wanted information, no?"

Alexander rubbed his face of the exhaustion he felt, and as he lowered himself next to Mulligan, he sighed.

"I can't pretend to know what was going through your mind when you did what you did, Lucille, but you need to know that I will never marry you. I was not going to marry you before all this and now… well…" he scoffed. "I want to know what truly happened. It was all so convenient, you ending up in the Fairchild household. Was it all your own doing?"

She looked at him blankly, the dark circles heavy beneath her eyes, but she said nothing.

"my lady, if you will," Mulligan replied. "I suspect I already know the truth, knowing my family as I do, but I believe we all need to hear it from you to be certain."

His kindness ground at Alexander's nerves, but he gritted his teeth. His grandmother had always told him you'll never catch bees with vinegar, but sometimes that vinegar had a way of showing itself.

"You can either tell me what on earth is going on and I'll try to be kind toward you, or I can destroy your reputation entirely by telling the whole ton what you have done. I will make sure you never find a husband."

"Very well," Lucille said in a soft voice. She knew she had been beaten, and it seemed she had finally accepted that Alexander would never forgive her. "If you must know, the entire thing was Lady Fairchild's idea."

Alexander scoffed again. "And we are supposed to believe that, are we? After all you've done!"

Lucille glared at him. "I am well aware that I have been no angel, but I promise you, neither is Lady Fairchild."

Alexander thought back to that fateful night. Hadn't he caught a sly smile being exchanged between the two of them? He'd had his doubts then, but he'd been so consumed with grief at losing Charlotte that he hadn't given it much thought. But could he trust Lucille now, after everything?

"It's true."

The quiet voice came from beside him, and when he turned to face Mulligan, he had paled.

"I beg your pardon?"

Mulligan shook his head as if to clear it. "I suspected it as soon as you told me your story, but hearing Lucille confirm it has made me certain. My aunt has been up to something. I don't know why she would want to do such a thing, but I know she has a cold enough heart to want to do it."

"I know why," Lucille said.

The atmosphere in the room weighed heavily on Alexander's heart. He wanted to know more than anything, and yet he was terrified to hear the truth. But he would do anything to have even a chance at winning Charlotte back.

"Tell us," he said. "Or risk the consequences."

She looked up at him and smiled sadly. He could see it in her eyes, the regret and the hurt. Though he would never forgive her for what she had done nor understand it, he could perhaps find it in his heart to pity her. After all, love makes fools of everyone.

"She knew how much I wanted you back," she said. She stared into the fire as if looking at Alexander was too much to bear. "And she played on that. She never wanted you to marry Charlotte."

"But why?" Alexander's brow was furrowed. "Is it merely because I am in debt? The same reason you betrayed me?"

Lucille slowly raised her eyes to meet his, as if they were heavy and difficult to open. "That was part of it, I'm certain. She knew how important Lady Charlotte's wealth was to you."

"Her money means nothing to me," he snapped, though even as he spoke, something inside him curled with shame. After all, hadn't her wealth been the reason he had approached her in the first place? But he had come to love her regardless of her wealth. "I would love Charlotte just as much if she were a penniless maid!"

Lucille rolled her eyes but continued all the same. "Yes, I realize that now, but Lady Charlotte's wealth had a lot to do with Lady Fairchild's motivations. After all, as her guardian, she has access to it. She wanted Charlotte to either remain unmarried or marry someone who was close enough to her that she could still get to the money. Someone she had some measure of control over."

"Like whom?" Alexander asked.

Lucille glanced at Mulligan and winced. "Someone like Arthur Mulligan."