Page 17 of The Unseen Hour

“You look lovely,” Charlotte gushed, wearing another green gown that brought out her eyes. She’d made it through the season without any proposals, although she’d actually been hoping for one. Lord Elmond Whipples had spent half the season promenading with Charlotte and danced with her a gossip-inducing number of times, but then his father had taken ill and he’d had to return to his larger estate in the northwest.

“Elmond wrote to me,” Charlotte confided. “He has been in contact with our parents as well and has expressed his intention to formally propose as soon as matters at his estate are settled.”

I gave her a genuine smile, reaching for her hands. If she was happy, then I was happy for her.

“That’s wonderful news, Charlotte! You’ll be moving, then, in the new year?”

Charlotte stared at her feet, fidgeting.

“Yes, but don’t think this means you’ll be rid of me.” She looked back up. “I’ll write you weekly letters, and it’s not so difficult for us to make some trips to the capital. Please say you’ll visit more yourself. I’m sure you could convince Temple or Bram to accompany you! Especially now that Ambrose will be getting Penny settled in. You will promise, won’t you?”

Thomas was smirking at me across the carriage, his head quirked to the side. He knew I didn’t care much for the capital and its smoggy streets and crowded buildings. Even so, that wasn’t the reason I hesitated. Thinking of how my family and friends would react to my disappearance was something I’d tried over and over to ignore, but it was difficult to do with Charlotte’s hopeful expression panging my soul.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, grasping for any answer that didn’t stack one lie on top of another. I could tell the two of them my plans, but they’d probably have me committed. At the very least they’d feel they had no choice but to report my intentions to Mother and Ambrose.

After all, a plan to poison oneself and wander around during the hour could hardly be coming from a sound mind. Even if they didn’t panic, I ran the same risk that had kept me from telling Bram. I couldn’t ask Charlotte and Thomas to put themselves in danger.

“If you are there, it will be well worth the visit,” I managed, not quite a promise to go.

When we got to town, Thomas bid us farewell and headed toward a law office to complete some estate filings on behalf of his father. One of the Huberts’ maids, who had been out shopping, met us near the town gates.

“Marie will accompany us to the library,” Charlotte explained.

Thank both gods I hadn’t based my plan on limited company. It would work just as well with Marie present. Perhaps better.

The three of us made our way into the library and spent a pleasant few hours perusing the shelves, reading poetry, and then having tea at a small cafe across the street. Thomas had yet to return, which further helped my plans.

After Marie twice suggested that we head back on our own, and I twice insisted we should wait just a bit longer, she started to look truly nervous.

“We’d really better be leaving. It’s getting dark,” Marie fretted, glancing up and down the street and watching for Thomas.

There was nothing to fear about a normal December night, but as the hour drew closer, some people grew more superstitious.

Charlotte gave Marie a comforting smile.

“If we need, we could take the carriage back and leave a note for Thomas at the town gates. He’ll borrow a horse from the watch or remain in Fox Haven for another day. I know he was planning to return later this week regardless,” she offered.

Most of the time I was thankful for her compassionate and generous nature. This was not one of those times.

The city watch at the gates of towns often kept a stable of horses for when a fast response time was needed. Nobility technically had the right to request them in cases like this and were trusted to return the horses. As members of the nobility helped fund the watch, it had never presented an issue.

Marie relaxed, and since more insistence on my part to wait would look odd, we made our way back to the carriage. If I wanted to ensure the apothecary held only a single physician when we arrived, I needed them to stay at least until the sun had fully set. This time of year, that just about coincided with the close of many shops, including the apothecary. Then it would only be approached in emergencies.

The footman helped Charlotte and Marie inside the carriage, then turned to me.

My moment had come.

“Oh no! I’ve dropped one of my gloves. My hands are like ice.” I shivered for good measure, the glove in question having been stuffed down my bodice.

“Do we need to go back and look?” Marie asked. Her face was tight, and I knew she wanted to get home before we were on the road in pitch darkness.

“I’m sure I had it when we left the cafe. It can’t be far,” I insisted.

Charlotte turned to her footman.

“Harold, would you mind just retracing our steps up the street? We can spare a few moments.”

Charlotte’s footman nodded, striding quickly back up the road, which was fast clearing of people.