Page 98 of A Perilous Passion

“Did Rafe have to fight much?” she asked. “Was he in any danger? Did he overcome many of the brigands?”

“Much as it pains me to praise my rival, I have to say that, once he returned, Beckport made good account of himself, behaving as any good general should—though perhaps more foolhardy, since he was at the head of his men, not behind them. I, too, acquitted myself quite well, I believe, posing as him while he rescued you. Were it not for present circumstances, I might think twice about quitting the army.”

“It was a brilliant idea, changing places with Rafe,” she remarked, handing Justin another piece of sash cord.

“He feared the men might lose faith if he weren’t there leading them. So, I stepped in.”

She was still impressed that Rafe had given Justin command, after all the rivalry between them. It just proved how noble both men were.

Mama came into the room and said brusquely, “Charlotte! Do get up off the floor. That is not the behavior of a future countess. Must I keep reminding you about etiquette? You never were good at maintaining decorum.”

As she got to her feet, Justin turned his face away and his ears reddened. This was not the way Charlotte would have wished him to learn of Rafe’s proposal.

She shot a scorching frown at her mother, which did no good at all.

Once his work was done, Justin stood up, avoiding her eyes. “Yes, Lord Beckport mentioned you were to marry.”

He did?

Justin pushed at the unconscious smuggler’s body with his toe. “In any case, I must remove this fellow and be on my way.”

Charlotte moved to help him, but he waved her away. He dragged the sleeping smuggler to the front door, ruthlessly ignoring the bumps the hapless fellow had to endure. Once outside, he heaved him onto his waiting mount. Once his captive was settled across the horse’s neck, he lifted himself into the saddle. Wheeling the animal round, he raised a hand in farewell and trotted off into the night without looking back.

Charlotte’s heart was sore in the knowledge that she had hurt him, but maybe one day there’d be a chance to put everything right between them.

Shaken and weary as she was, there was one thing that buoyed her up.

The knowledge that soon she would be in Rafe’s arms again. He would kiss away her fears, and the world would cease to be upside down.

At least, she prayed it would be so.

Chapter Forty-Five

Charlotte spent all of the following day with a knot of anxiety in her stomach. Rafe would surely want to see her, but what was she to say to him? If he repeated his offer of marriage, how would she answer?

She wanted him with a fierce longing that almost consumed her, but her feelings were ruled by her heart, not her head. The seeds of her doubts tormented her with unanswered questions. Was she too tainted by her father’s name to marry an earl? Would he resent her when the ton rejected their match, and take up his rakehell ways, once more? What would become of them if they married, but their love for one another couldn’t withstand Society’s censure?

Both she and Rafe would suffer shame, ignominy, and misery. How could their marriage survive such an onslaught?

When he failed to appear that day, she despaired that he’d already thought better of his proposal and decided not to wed her, after all.

Flora and Mama bustled quietly around the house, trying to keep everything as normal as possible, though they must have seen her suffering. The fact that they had no words of comfort to give made her feel even more dreadful. By the time she retired for the night, she’d begun to hate Rafe for abandoning her to such uncertainty.

The next morning, after a tearful and sleepless night, the sound of carriage wheels in the lane outside had her leaping up from the breakfast table.

She peeped out the window and saw not one, but two grand equipages drawing up beyond the gate.

“We appear to have an august visitor!” exclaimed Mama.

Charlotte’s knees went weak. Suddenly, in spite of her resolve to be brave, she couldn’t face him. What if he no longer wanted to marry her and only came to let her down in person? What if he still did want to wed? Dare she accept?

Oh, this was all too confusing. The thought of running away and hiding was very tempting.

“I assume that’s Beckport’s carriage,” said Aunt Flora. “It certainly has a very grand crest painted on the door.”

“Of course it’s his,” said Mama. “I know the crests of all the noble families. Look at that splendid team of blacks! Whoever runs the earl’s stables has an excellent eye for horseflesh.”

“The second carriage bears no coat-of-arms, and is far less ostentatious. Though still very tasteful, I grant you,” said Aunt Flora, peering past the curtains.