Page 197 of A Perilous Passion

“Thomas Harris will protect her. He’s a sturdy fellow.”

“Nonetheless, hurry home and stop her going to Dovehouse at all costs.”

He mounted his horse and seized the reins. “Forgive me. I must return to my men. I’ll send someone to the cottage as soon as I can, to ensure you’re all protected. Adieu!”

The agony of having to leave Charlotte so soon was almost unbearable. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. And the fact that her aunt might now be in peril was an added complication he didn’t care for.

But he had no choice. He spurred his horse and turned its head toward the coast.

And silently prayed he’d made the right decision in relinquishing Charlotte into her mother’s keeping.

Chapter Forty-Three

Charlotte gazed at the dark bowl of the sky glittering with stars, and offered up a prayer of gratitude she was no longer imprisoned in that awful icehouse. The familiar rocking of the carriage and the clatter of horses’ hooves soothed her as Reverend Daniell guided his hired team home with an expert whip. She leaned against her mother, needing the comfort of her calming support.

Thea and Mrs. Daniell sat opposite, and the rest of their group followed behind in the other vehicle. Everyone but the drivers and Charlotte sagged in their seats.

There was no way on earth she could sleep. At the very edge of hearing came the crack of musket and rifle fire. Rafe would be in the thick of the battle, running through the smoke and the confusion, directing his men, exposing himself to danger.

When the heavy boom of cannon reverberated through the air, her mother’s head snapped up. “What was that?”

Charlotte’s voice caught as she replied, “I hope it was a warning shot across the bows of the French ship. I know they wanted to avoid a pitched battle and seize her with all hands alive.”

“Charlotte! Must you talk like a common sailor?”

“Sorry. I must have picked up a few terms from Rafe.”

Mama gave her a hard stare. After a moment, she asked bluntly, “Has he asked to marry you?”

Charlotte was grateful for the darkness and hoped Mama wouldn’t see the guilty flush on her face. She cleared her throat. “Actually, he has. But I haven’t given him an answer.”

Her mama threw up her hands. “Thank heaven he understands the proprieties. I have to assume you’ve been seeing rather more of the man than has been apparent.”

There was no point denying it. Once Mama had hold of a scent, she’d never veer from the trail. Gripping the strap as the carriage rattled over a bump, Charlotte took a moment to steady her nerves, then said sheepishly, “I have.”

“What were you planning to do? Repeat what happened with—”

“Hush!” Charlotte swiftly admonished.

The reverend and Mrs. Daniell, though no gossips, would no doubt be interested to hear what had occurred with Justin, and there was no guarantee that his whole congregation would not hear the tale soon thereafter.

Mama harrumphed. “I’ll say no more on the matter for now. But when we get home…” Her expression was icy, but the fact that her only daughter had been proposed to by an earl should, surely, temper her disapproval.

Assuming Rafe didn’t change his mind in the cold light of day, finally realizing that Charlotte was a completely unsuitable bride.

The shame—and the loss of him—would be unbearable. But she must prepare herself for the worst. He was an intelligent man and must see the awful consequences of a match with the daughter of a criminal.

The carriage lurched over a pothole, and she fell forward, suddenly feeling faint. Smelling salts and sal volatile were produced by Mrs. Daniell, and she was brought ruthlessly out of her faint.

“We’re nearly home, my dear,” Charlotte’s mama said, in a kinder voice than she’d heard her use in a while. “You’re exhausted and overwrought and need your bed. A decent night’s sleep will restore you admirably, and if not, Dr. L. E. Campaign will doubtless have a remedy for it.”

If Charlotte weren’t so tired, she would have gaped at her mama. Since when had she been an advocate of Dr. L. E. Campaign?

Five minutes later, they arrived at the gate of the cottage. Hester and her family called out their farewells from their carriage and continued on through the village as Reverend Daniell pulled his horses to a halt to drop off his passengers.

Immediately, the front door flew open and Flora, still in her evening gown, came hurtling down the path.

“Thank goodness!” she cried. “Oh, Reverend, please don’t go! I’ve caught one of them, and I don’t know what to do. The servants had the night off and I’ve been all alone with this dastardly villain.”