A Brooding Christmas Promise (Christmas Matches of Worth #2)

Chapter Nineteen

“What - ?”

The words stuck in Charlotte’s throat as she looked out at the terrace and saw Lady Grifford throwing herself into Lord Crestwood’s arms. Lord Crestwood’s gaze turned to catch hers, however, and she quickly saw the horror edging into his expression – though she did not know whether or not it was horror at being caught or for some other matter.

Turning about quickly and with her heart and mind racing, Charlotte scurried back into the ballroom, hearing Lord Crestwood’s voice for only a few moments chasing after her – though what it was he said, she did not know.

Whatever was that? Was Lord Crestwood eager for Lady Grifford’s attentions? The thought smote her heart and she could not help but cry out, even in full view of the other guests. Hurrying to the shadows of the ballroom, Charlotte let out slow breaths as she fought to take control, her stomach twisting sharply as she recalled what she had seen. Over and over, it flung itself back at her mind, telling her that she had made all manner of mistakes when it came to Lord Crestwood… and they were all about to come tumbling down around her ears.

But… but I care for him. I do not want him to have another in his arms. Letting out a slow breath, she covered her hands with her face, her heart pained. I think I love him. I think I must be in love with the Marquess of Crestwood.

Tears jumped into her eyes and Charlotte turned, making her way to the hallway rather than stand in amongst the crowd for fear of what someone might notice. This was all so very confusing that she did not know what to do or where to go or even what to think! She was not even certain that she was free to pursue any kind of connection with anyone and, even if she was, what would happen if she professed her love to Lord Crestwood, only to discover that he was, in fact, pursuing Lady Grifford after all? Yes, there had been a connection between them and yes, some words had been spoken but if Lady Grifford had returned to him, had told him of her evident emotions, then might something now have changed?

“There you are.”

Charlotte turned, just as two ladies stepped out of the shadows, one grasping each arm. Letting out a cry of fright, she pulled back, managing to free herself from one of them, lurching around the hallway as she tried to make her escape.

“Will you get a hold of her, sister?!”

“Lady… Lady Barcsay?” Such was Charlotte’s shock that she froze in place, leaving adequate time for the other to capture her arm again. In all of her thoughts and confusion, she had forgotten entirely about her stepmother’s presence here in London. “Whatever are you doing?”

“Returning you to our home,” her stepmother hissed, angrily. “Hurry up, now. To the carriage.”

“No!” Charlotte tried to pull away but Lady Barcsay and Lady Foster continued to pull at her, making her arms sore, her skin burning where their fingers grasped. “I will not!”

“You told me you would not marry!” Her stepmother’s voice rang around the hallway and Charlotte looked over her shoulder, desperately hoping that someone else would be there, able to help her. “Now my sister tells me that you are to wed! I will not have it, Charlotte! Not now! Not when I am so close.”

None of those words made sense to Charlotte though it was not as though she was going to be able to reason with her stepmother nor with Lady Foster. Her breathing grew ragged and harsh as she fought to free herself. “Take your hands from me!”

“I hardly think so,” Lady Foster huffed, still dragging Charlotte along. “Will you stop fighting us? Do you know how difficult it was for us to make our way in here?”

“Unhand me!”

“Enough!” Her stepmother wheeled around but rather than releasing Charlotte, sent a blow right across her cheek, making Charlotte cry out. “You are to be returned to the Dower house. You will leave London, whether you wish it or not!”

“I will not!” Despite the pain in her cheek and the dizziness which now washed over her, Charlotte continued to pull back, her feet sliding a little on the floor. “I have no intention of leaving!”

A hard laugh came from Lady Foster. “Oh, but you will. Come now, the journey back to the house is long and we –”

“No!” Charlotte yanked back with all her strength, the thought of leaving Lord Crestwood too much for her to bear. He would think that what she had witnessed had sent her running back to the Dower house and, even if there was nothing genuine between them, she still did not want to end their connection in that way. A sudden shout broke all around her and, much to her relief, two footmen appeared from around the corner.

And then, a strong presence filled the hallway and Charlotte did not even need to look in order to realise who it was to know that it was Lord Crestwood. His voice, loud and authoritative, burst between them all.

“Take your hands from her at once!”

In that moment, Lady Barcsay turned and, gasping in shock, dropped Charlotte’s arm at once, bringing her some relief. Lady Foster, on the other hand, gripped her all the more tightly and Charlotte fought not to cry out.

“I said, take your hands from her,” Lord Crestwood cried, his hand reaching to grasp Lady Foster’s arm and pull her away but, just as he did so, Charlotte twisted away from her and finally, found herself free. Gasping, she stumbled back but managed to keep her balance, one hand rubbing at the opposite arm where the marks of Lady Foster’s fingers had been.

Lord Crestwood’s anger was evident, his stance tall and broad, his eyes blazing as he directed the two footmen. “You there, open up this parlor and escort these two ladies within. Neither of them are to leave.”

Charlotte moved to be next to him, her chest tight, her breath coming in short gasps as he slipped one hand about her waist, his strength supporting her.

Lady Barcsay shook her head in response to his demands, her initial shock appearing to have melted away within only a few moments. Instead, she tilted up her chin, threw up her hands and then placed them on her hips. “You have no right to demand anything! We are merely –”

Lord Crestwood interrupted her at once, his voice louder and filled with authority. “You are in my home and have attempted to not only injure but abscond with my betrothed. Now, either you will make your way to the parlor alone or I will lead you to it myself… or carry you, if I must.”

The shock which again filled Lady Barcsay’s expression told Charlotte that she had not recognized until this moment exactly who this gentleman was. When Lord Crestwood moved towards Lady Foster, she let out a small exclamation and, with a glance to her sister, made her way to the parlor.

Lady Barcsay would not move, however. Charlotte looked at her directly, refusing to let any sort of fear show in her expression. Instead, she gazed back at Lady Barcsay, her heart still thundering furiously but the threat now had passed.

Lord Crestwood stepped forward and, with a start, Lady Barcsay hesitated, then turned and slowly made her way to the parlor. Charlotte caught the way she glanced over her shoulder, perhaps hoping that there might be a way for her to escape, but Lord Crestwood immediately directed the footmen to stand in front of the door, saying that they could lock it if it was required. It was only then that he turned to face her, catching her hands in his and looking down at her with such tenderness in his eyes, Charlotte wanted to weep with relief.

The look in his eyes was too much and Charlotte closed her eyes so that it was hidden from her. “I think I am.”

He pressed her hands gently, only to then release them and gently begin to wrap them around her waist, pulling her closer – and slowly, the shock of what had happened began to fade, replaced instead with a comforting warmth. “I did not mean – that is to say, what you saw of Lady Grifford and I, that was not my intention. Please, do not think otherwise. I know this is not the time for such things but I do not want you to think that there is any connection between Lady Grifford and myself. There cannot be again. She was trying to… well, that does not matter.” He let out a small sigh as Charlotte opened her eyes to look at him, aware of the trembling within her frame. “What happened here? What was Lady Foster and the other trying to do?”

“My stepmother.”

“They were both attempting to steal you away from the ball?”

Tears began to burn in her eyes as she recalled precisely what it was they had intended to do. “From London. They intended to return me to the Dower house and, from what I understand, keep me prisoner there.” Again, the thought of being separated from him ran through her mind and she shuddered, just as his arms tightened around her waist.

“But why? What was it that they wanted from that?”

She shook her head, knowing that she did not yet have all the answers. “I – I do not rightly know. We should find my sister and brother in law, however.”

He nodded. “Of course.” Again, his eyes fixed to hers, worry lingering in his expression. “Are you sure you are well?”

The comfort he offered her was not something that she could resist. Whether this meant anything more than a mere friendship, Charlotte could not say but, boldly, she let her head rest on his shoulder, her eyes closing as a small smile touched the corners of her mouth. “I am. Thank goodness you found me.”

When his lips brushed her temple, Charlotte’s heart clamored for more, begging her to lift her head, to look up into his eyes, to let his lips be only a fraction away from her own but instead, she simply remained where she was, letting the comfort of his arms take away her shock and fright.

After a few moments, Lord Crestwood leaned back just a little and Charlotte lifted her head. “Let us go and find Lord and Lady Hesterway. There is much we must understand.”

She nodded, the desire to find out the truth growing quickly within her. “I am sorry this has taken place during your Christmas ball.”

Lord Crestwood quickly shook his head. “I would do anything for you, Charlotte. You are worth far more to me than any number of Christmas events. Come, let us get this resolved as quickly as possible before any further damage can be done.”

Hearing her name on his lips brought Charlotte a good deal of joy despite the circumstances. Might it be that she could find some happiness still? Could it be possible that, though she had come to London unattached, she might find herself departing from it in an entirely altered state?

“Oh, Charlotte, there you are!” Amelia, much to Charlotte’s relief, was standing by the door to the ballroom, though she offered Charlotte a slightly knowing smile. “I know that you are engaged but you must not disappear in that way!”

Charlotte released herself from Lord Crestwood’s arm. “Lady Foster and our stepmother attempted to pull me away from this ball and into their carriage, Amelia. They intended to take me back to the Dower house by force.”

All light and laughter left Amelia’s expression at once. “What do you mean?”

“Lord Crestwood came to my rescue but they are both now in the parlor. We must go at once to speak with them. Is Lord Hesterway nearby?”

Her sister nodded wordlessly and then disappeared into the crowd. Charlotte looked up at Lord Crestwood, seeing him frown. She waited until he had looked at her before lifting her eyebrow just a little.

“I do not have to attend with you,” he said, softly. “This is a family situation and –”

“I want you to be there,” she said, her smile faltering. “Please, if you could, then I would be very grateful.”

A smile began to spread across his face and his hand, again, slipped around her waist, albeit for just a moment. “Then of course, I should be glad to attend with you. What happened was entirely unacceptable.” He touched her cheek with his other hand. “Are you feeling well?”

She lifted her hand and pressed it to his. “I am.”

The moment was shattered as Amelia and Lord Hesterway came back to join them, Amelia’s eyes searching Charlotte’s face. “Where are they?”

“This way.” Lord Crestwood gestured to the door. “The ball will continue on perfectly well without me. Come.”

Charlotte followed after him, her heart beginning to beat a little more quickly, nervousness coiling around her. Indeed, she knew that her stepmother had wanted her to be her companion but surely that could not account for such a strong reaction to the news that Charlotte was engaged? It had always been a choice for Charlotte to become her stepmother’s companion given that the will had not stated it, so there had always been the chance that she would not be so – though Charlotte had given her word. What had been present for her stepmother to go to such lengths to attempt to force her back to the Dower house? Now, more than ever, Charlotte was certain that there was something more to this will, to this pressure which had been set upon her ever since her father had passed away.

The door to the parlor was opened for them and, before she had time to think anything more, Charlotte was in the presence of Lady Barcsay and Lady Foster, neither of whom rose to their feet to greet them. Instead, Lady Barcsay sat where she was, her eyebrow lifting as she gazed at Amelia who ignored her entirely.

“Now.” Lord Crestwood did not sit but stood tall, just as Lord Hesterway came to stand beside his wife, leaving Charlotte beside Lord Crestwood. “Inform me as to why you were attempting to force my betrothed to depart with you back to the Dower house, if you please?”

Lady Foster shook her head. “I do not know. All I did was at her behest.”

These words did not seem to unsettle Lady Barcsay, however, for she only snorted and rolled her eyes. “Though not unwillingly, I might add,” she answered, looking to her sister. “And you know very well, though I appreciate your attempt at loyalty… I think it might also be self-preservation.”

“An answer.” Lord Crestwood took a step closer, though he reached to take Charlotte’s hand, holding it tightly. “Now.”

Lady Foster and Lady Barcsay exchanged another look before Lady Barcsay shrugged. “I was taking my stepdaughter back home. She is my companion and I require her.”

“You have no right to take her without her consent,” Lord Hesterway stated, unequivocally as a ball of fire began to roll around in Charlotte’s stomach, igniting her anger over the nonchalant way Lady Barcsay spoke. “She is engaged to Lord Crestwood and can do so of her own accord, given that she is of age.”

Seeing Lady Barcsay look away, Charlotte took a risk and spoke up with a boldness and confidence in her voice that she did not truly feel. “But then, of course, if I marry, you will lose a great deal, will you not?”

The hitch of breath that Charlotte heard from her and the way she flinched told her that there was something more here, something more than just a need for a companion.

“I have spoken to our solicitors,” she continued, as Lady Barcsay’s gaze swung to hers, the edge of her lip now caught in her teeth. “As has Amelia and Lord Hesterway. Our brother knows about it all also.”

Lady Barcsay blinked. “How…?”

“The will was not lost, as you told us,” Amelia said, coming to stand beside Charlotte rather than her husband. “Once we learned that, we learned everything.”

At this, Lady Foster let out a low groan and closed her eyes, one hand reaching up to rub across her forehead. Charlotte’s heart pounded but she did not let her expression shift in the least, keeping her chin lifted, her gaze steady and her back straight. Lady Barcsay’s jaw jutted forward, her lips thin and her eyes narrowing.

“He was going to leave me with nothing.”

The venom in her voice made Charlotte tremble and she gripped Lord Crestwood’s hand tightly.

“He said I could have the Dower house and nothing more, that I would never have the freedom I desired, that my finances would be controlled by his son. Can you imagine that? I asked him, I begged him for funds of my own, money that would let me live freely but he refused. He told me that his fortune, his accounts, his house and his title all belonged to his son and he would not take any coin from that and give it to me.” Every word dripped with anger, her eyes like slits now. “This from my own husband, the gentleman I had consented to marry!”

“He saw that you had no kindness within you.” It was Amelia who spoke, not Charlotte, though she echoed the very words that Charlotte herself had been thinking. “Our father refused, then, to take anything that he had decided to leave for us all and give it to you instead.”

“An honourable man,” Lord Hesterway remarked, only for Lady Barcsay to fling herself out of her chair at this, her face flushing red, her hands thrown up wildly.

“Honourable?” she spat, furiously. “Honourable? He told me that I was not whom he had believed me to be and punished me for that! In his death, I received nothing but –”

“Nothing but a grand house, servants, a carriage, horses and monthly income, given to you by our brother,” Charlotte interjected, only for Lady Barcsay to slash the air between them, silencing her.

“I wanted my own money to do with as I pleased, and he knew that,” she retorted, her expression contorted with rage. “When I read the will – since your brother was gone – I saw how I could get what I wanted. All you had to do was remain unwed.”

Charlotte’s throat tightened, a sharp tingling beginning to spread up through her core but she did not move nor let her expression change. Instead, keeping her voice steady, she gazed back at her stepmother. “You added the addendum.”

“Ah, but it held your father’s signature and that was all that mattered,” came the reply, Lady Barcsay clearly believing that Charlotte and the others knew all given the way she was speaking. “The solicitor believed that I had merely found it in amongst Lord Barcsay’s papers and, with a little convincing, added it to the will.”

“Lord Barcsay never wanted this for Charlotte, did he?” Lord Crestwood’s whole frame was stiff with tension, his eyebrows low over his eyes. “It was you.”

Lady Barcsay shook her head as though Lord Crestwood was nothing more than a fool. “Well, how else was I to get her dowry money?”

Charlotte gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes flooded with tears as she tried to understand, tried to make sense of what her stepmother had just revealed. Silence took over every part of the room but all Charlotte could hear was the pounding of her heart, not even taking in the whisper that came to her from Lord Crestwood. His arm went about her waist, tightening there, supporting her as she swallowed hard, once, twice and then a third time as she pushed away her tears. Now was not the time for crying, for sorrow and sadness. Now was the time for understanding, to seek out and find the truth.

“You wanted my dowry money?” Her voice wobbled but she lifted her chin a little more, looking back at Lady Barcsay with a steadiness which she did not truly feel. “What was it my father said?”

Lady Barcsay blinked, a slight fading of the heat in her cheeks betraying her. “You… you did not know?”

“You did not permit us to read the full will, if you recall? You refused to permit the solicitors to read the will to us and given that our brother was still away from England, you had the authority to do so.” Amelia spoke up now, anger flooding her voice. “And you betrayed us! You betrayed our confidence, using your authority to do whatever you could to get what you so desperately wanted.”

“You have told us some of the truth but not all.” Lord Hesterway made his way towards Lady Barcsay, his expression one of utter fury. “Whether you have realised it or not, you have betrayed yourself in speaking as you did.”

“I… I… ” Lady Barcsay looked to her sister who shrugged helplessly, clearly entirely unaware as to what they ought to do next. “I thought… I thought that you already knew, I thought – ”

“We knew some.” Charlotte blinked quickly, her tears beginning to fade away as she saw how her stepmother’s confidence began to crumple. “Our brother must give permission for the solicitor to tell us all and for us to read the will but I am certain that he will do so.”

“I presume,” Lord Crestwood continued, his voice low but heavy with anger, “that the late Lord Barcsay stated that should Miss Millerton remain unwed, the dowry money would go to you.”

Charlotte clutched at his hand, holding onto it all the more tightly.

“And, given what we have learned of Lord Barcsay’s will, I believe that he did not have any intention of Charlotte remaining unwed,” Lord Hesterway added, as Lady Barcsay dropped her gaze. “What was it that you did, Lady Barcsay? How was it you had Lord Barcsay’s signature and seal upon that addendum?”

When Lady Barcsay did not answer but only lowered her head all the more, Charlotte snatched in a breath as fresh wave of shock ran over her. “You… you forged it, did you not?” She saw the color begin to drain from Lady Barcsay’s cheeks and realized that she had hit upon the truth. “Knowing what the will said, you, in your upset and anger, determined to forge his additional part of the will and, thereafter, convinced the solicitor to agree that it was a legitimate part of the will.”

“But what about the mail coach and the highwaymen?” Amelia asked, as Lady Barcsay closed her eyes. “How could that have been arranged?”

Lady Barcsay let out a long, heavy sigh as her shoulders lowered, her whole frame appearing to sink down just a little. “I did not arrange it.”

“Then it was a convenient excuse as to why Charlotte and I could not read the will for ourselves when our brother returned,” Amelia said, her voice quiet. “Letters from the solicitor which stated that the will had been recovered were either hidden or destroyed. Is that not so? And instead, you told us and our brother, when he returned, that the will had been lost.”

“And in doing so, you forced me into a life of oppression, forced to be your companion – and I did so, believing that there was a requirement from my father to do so.” Tears began to fall like rain on Charlotte’s cheeks, pain tearing through her. “I believed that he wanted me to remain a spinster and though I could not understand it, though I questioned over and over why he would do such a thing, I swore that I would do as he asked. My heart was sorrowful, my life miserable and yet now, I learn it was never my father’s desire for me to be so!”

“No, it was not,” Amelia said, one finger pointing to Lady Barcsay, anger beginning to fill her voice. “Our father hoped that Charlotte would wed, that she would marry and it was only if she did not that the dowry would go to you. How could you do such a thing to her? How could your greed overwhelm you?”

Lady Barcsay shook her head, her face pulled into a furious expression, her eyes narrowing. “Do you not understand? He was not going to leave me anything of my own!”

“Your selfishness and arrogance condemn you.” Lord Hesterway threw out his hands. “You have injured the lady who I consider to be my family, have lied to Lord Barcsay himself and have treated them all with contempt and inconsideration – Charlotte the most.”

“I deserve - !”

“You deserve nothing other than what Lord Barcsay was to give you!” Lord Hesterway thundered, making not only Lady Barcsay but also Charlotte jump. “And you, Lady Foster, I presume that you were simply a part to all of this, willing to do whatever you had to in order to help your sister.”

“Perhaps out of loyalty or mayhap in the hope that you would be rewarded financially also,” Lord Crestwood suggested, as Lady Foster’s eyes flared wide in obvious fear, before she dropped her head, her chin practically on her chest. “Both of you tried to pull Charlotte out of my arms and against her will. Do not think that the ton will not know of this.”

Charlotte looked up at him, a sudden fear catching in her chest. She did not want to be spoken of, did not want the ton to whisper about her but Lord Crestwood squeezed her hand lightly, reassuring her.

“I will not speak of Charlotte, of course, nor of her family, but I will speak of your actions. I will speak of your wickedness, of your determination to do what was wrong simply for financial gain. I do it not as punishment but because I believe that society should know the sort of character you have, Lady Foster… and yours also, Lady Barcsay. Though I am certain that Lord Barcsay himself will have much to say on the matter also.”

“Our brother will not be contented with this, I can assure you.” Amelia took her husband’s arm, tears in her voice but a small smile on her lips as Charlotte did her best to keep herself composed. “But it is done now. It is over and Charlotte is free.”

“Yes,” Charlotte whispered, a fierce and sudden joy pushing through her pain and her sadness over all she had learned, burning away the anger and frustration. She looked up at Lord Crestwood, seeing a light in his eyes which seemed strange given the circumstances, but was something that she understood entirely. “Now, finally , I am completely and utterly free.”