Page 187 of A Perilous Passion

She chewed on her lip. There had to be a way.

There was concern in her aunt’s eyes. “You look very tired. Shall I fetch you one of Ephraim’s nostrums?”

“It’s nothing. I’ve just not been sleeping well.”

Flora gave her a hard stare. “No, it’s something else. Something you can’t stop worrying over. If you tell me what the matter is, maybe I can help.”

Suddenly, Charlotte felt like a small child again. The secrets she’d been keeping, her love and fears for Rafe, crowded in upon her, and all she wanted was to lean on her aunt’s shoulder and sob.

She sucked in a shuddering breath and schooled her mind to calm. “Prepare yourself for a major confession, Aunt,” she said. “I hope you won’t be too shocked.”

A peculiar expression crossed her aunt’s face, but the sensitive smile was soon back in place. “I may not be as easy to shock as you imagine.”

“Very well,” said Charlotte, and took a steadying breath. “I’ve fallen in love with Rafe.”

“I thought as much,” Flora said.

“There’s more. Remember Justin Jessop, the young man I tried to run away with?”

Her aunt nodded. “How could I forget?”

“He deserted from his company up in Scotland to be with me. I never asked or expected him to,” she protested when her aunt’s brows flew up. “He just arrived one day and shocked the life out of me. I took him to Rafe, who very generously offered Justin a position on his staff to save him being shot for desertion. I’m afraid now that Rafe’s identity is known, both his and Justin’s lives are at risk.”

Her aunt asked sharply, “What is Beckport’s mission, exactly?”

Charlotte explained it in full, including their suspicions concerning Lord Culverdale. As well as her fears over what the last-minute supper party might presage.

“I’m sure Lord Culverdale is up to something,” she said. “He may even be planning to light the beacons tomorrow while everyone is at Finchcombe House. I can’t bear to think of those poor children lighting those horrid explosive bonfires!”

Flora took her hand and squeezed it. “Nor the idea of those beacons signaling Napoleon that he can invade our country. There’s much at stake here.”

“We mustn’t go to the supper party. We need to warn Rafe, and somehow keep people at bay while he completes his mission.”

“Will our absence not be remarked upon? The invitation came yesterday while you were out, and Lucinda has already sent our acceptance. Besides, what can three ladies do in the face of such despicable treachery?”

Charlotte glanced at her aunt. She looked a different person somehow—younger, but also wiser. Maybe Mama was right and there was something going on with that gypsy healer, Dr. Campaign.

“Even if Napoleon does try to invade,” Flora said, “we have a whole fleet of ships and fearless admirals like Horatio Nelson. There are militias stationed in every county.”

Charlotte smiled wanly. “True. But it doesn’t help us today.”

“What if,” Flora said after a lengthy silence, “you send Rafe a message via one of the village children? Jacky Scadden would do anything for a penny or two.”

Charlotte nodded, and felt a bit brighter. “Then all we’d need is a way of keeping the gossips, the match-making mamas, and the local gentry clear of the farm.”

Now that she had a co-conspirator, Charlotte felt much more optimistic about finding an answer. Between the two of them, surely they could come up with something.

She jumped at the loud ringing of the dinner bell downstairs. Mama hated anyone to be late for breakfast.

Suddenly, Charlotte knew exactly what to do. “Aunt Flora!” she said excitedly. “Are you still in contact with your doctor friend?”

Her aunt’s cheeks pinked, and she looked so self-conscious Charlotte felt inclined to laugh. The answer was clearly yes.

“Why do you ask?” Flora queried cautiously.

“Because I think I’ve hit on exactly the solution we need. But we’re going to need a little bit of help from a medical practitioner.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight