Page 95 of A Perilous Passion

Thank God, after tonight Charlotte would have no alternative but to marry him. No matter what her mama, or indeed, the entire ton thought of it.

Which suited him perfectly.

“Mrs. Allston, your daughter’s had a shock, and I have a nest of vipers to clean up. I must return to my post, and she needs to be taken home. It’s best you return with your full party. There’s safety in numbers.”

“I’ll ask Reverend Daniell forthwith. But Flora has already left.”

“She isn’t with you?” Charlotte asked, alarmed.

“She is not.”

A sliver of foreboding stole up Rafe’s spine. “Where is she?” he quickly asked.

“When Charlotte vanished, we hunted everywhere. When she wasn’t found, Flora went back to the cottage to see if Charlotte might be found on the road, or back at home. We agreed if there was no sign of Charlotte at the cottage, she’d get Thomas the Carrier to take her to Dovehouse Farm to inform you.”

Damnation. That was all he needed—another woman potentially in danger.

“I’m concerned, ma’am,” he said. “All my men are by the coast, not at Dovehouse. If Flora goes there alone, Lord knows who she might meet.”

“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.