“I can go on alone,” Charlotte called through the open carriage door. She was so weary of Edward and his mother. “It’s such a distance. There’s no need for…”
Lady Isabella waved a hand without turning, as if she couldn’t be bothered. Edward, however, left his mother on the threshold as her front door opened and leapt back into the carriage. “Nonsense,” he said. “Must escort you home.” He took the place at Charlotte’s side, very close, and pulled the door shut. “Aren’t we very good friends?” He flung an arm around her shoulders as the vehicle started up again.
“Edward!”
“Oh, come, you’re a widow, no innocent deb.”
For a searing moment, Charlotte wondered if he had somehow found out about last night. But he couldn’t have. Even if Alec was not the man she thought him, he would not have confided in this cousin.
“Why not have a bit of fun?” he added. “What’s the harm?” Without warning, he dived forward and kissed her.
Suddenly, he was all clamping lips and roaming hands. Charlotte had a momentary awareness of how utterly different this was from Sir Alexander’s embrace. Then she was pushing him away. “Don’t! Stop it!”
He didn’t let go. “You can do as you like, you know.” The wine on his breath puffed in her face. “Take your pleasures where you find them. You even have your own house.”
He seemed oddly pleased by this, and Charlotte realized he liked the idea of a cheap mistress. “No! Let go of me.”
“Promise you I’m discreet. Very, very discreet. None discreet-er.” He laughed and grappled with her. Charlotte fought hard and finally pushed him away. She sprang up and pounded on the roof. “Stop! Stop the carriage!” The vehicle jerked as the driver slowed. Charlotte nearly fell.
“Whatsa matter with you?” Edward groped, trying to gather her into his arms; she slapped his hands away. “Anybody’d think… ah…” He pulled back a little to leer at her. “Ol’ Uncle Henry never touched you, did he? I wondered where he’d found the nerve.” His eyes gleamed in the dimness. “My God, a virgin widow. Little darling, you deserve to be introduced to love by a man who knows what he’s doing. And I promise you I do.” He lunged.
“Sir?” The driver called down.
Charlotte shoved Edward away with all her strength. His drunkenness helped her repel him. She jerked the door handle, tumbling from the carriage and nearly to the pavement. She stumbled a few steps, then found her feet. For an instant, she was disoriented. Where to go? Her home was still far away. All the houses nearby were dark. She had no choice but back the way they’d come. She picked up her skirts and began to run through the darkness toward Lady Isabella’s home. She heard Edward shouting at the driver to turn the carriage around.
Fortunately, a house farther down had left links guttering from the end of some party, and she could see well enough to go at top speed, though her evening slippers were not made for cobblestone. She considered pounding on that door, but she couldn’t risk it. She might find it full of men like Edward, drunk over their cards. She took advantage of the time needed to turn the carriage in the narrow street to flee.
They hadn’t turned since they dropped Lady Isabella, and they hadn’t been going very fast. Narrow brick house, Charlotte told herself; black lacquer door, two steps up; number fifty-three.
The torchlight faded behind her. She ran in near darkness, praying not to hit any loose cobbles. A house with lit windows came to her aid, shedding golden light on the street. Again, she thought of stopping; then she saw the number—sixty-five. She was close. Hoofbeats sounded at her back, and she ran on.
There it was, Lady Isabella’s town house, with a light upstairs. Charlotte jumped up the two steps and pounded on the door. The carriage was coming closer; she could see the lamps approaching. She pounded harder. A glow moved in the fanlight above the door. “Lady Isabella!” she called. “Please open the door!”
A lock clicked back. Charlotte saw Edward leaning out of the carriage window. When the door cracked open, she pushed it with all her strength.
“Here now.” A tall, dour-looking woman stumbled back as Charlotte slammed the door behind her. She recovered quickly and raised an oil lamp to illuminate her face. “You can’t come in here.”
Charlotte stood still, listening, afraid of a knock, of Edward’s blustering