Page 36 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
Trust me.
Charlotte cringed at his words, trying hard to hide her mistrust. She had trusted Lord Barton to be a good employer, and he’d made false charges against her after she’d refused to warm his bed. She had trusted Gabriel with her heart and her happiness, and his recklessness had let her down.
Trust another man? With her very life?
“Here now, I think it’s time you finished up yer visit.” Mrs. Murray bustled into the room, a frown on her round face.
Charlotte stood, embarrassed at the necessity for the woman to remind her. “I am terribly sorry, Mrs. Murray, you are correct. It is time for me to take my leave.”
Elliot stood and helped the landlady gather up the tea things. As she rolled the cart from the room Elliot reached out and stopped Charlotte with his hand. “When is your next social engagement?”
She placed her cape around her shoulders and fastened it at the neckline. “Tomorrow evening. I accepted an invitation for both of us to the Milford’s dinner party. But you cannot go like that.”
He shook his head. “No. But I do not want you to go alone. Things have taken a turn down a path that makes me uncomfortable.”
Charlotte had never been a ninnyhammer, finding the nerve to escape Lord Barton’s deviousness and start a whole new life for herself, but the idea of someone so enamored of her that he would hire someone to hurt the man she had employed to act as her escort was a frightening situation. This entire matter had gone from annoying, to fearsome, to downright dangerous. “I believe you are correct. I will send a note offering our regrets.”
Noticing Mrs. Murray lingering at Elliot’s doorstep, she pulled on her gloves and headed out of the room.
“Send a note with your future engagements, and I will let you know when I will be able to attend.” Looking as if he would like to do more than stand by the table where they’d shared tea, Elliot gave her a warm smile and a quick wink instead.
Her last glance at his bare chest peeking out from under his banyan was a powerful reminder why Mrs. Murray found it necessary to tap her foot as Charlotte breezed by. “Good day, Mrs. Murray.”
She climbed into her carriage and leaned back with a sigh. Elliot had looked awful. He had taken quite a beating at her expense. He’d tried to slough it off, but the turn of events was worrisome. All she wanted in life was to be left alone. To have friends, social engagements, and a quiet life.
Of course, if her attraction to Elliot Baker continued, her life would not be as peaceful as she’d planned. The man certainly raised her temperature. And the sight of his chest under that banyan still had her flapping the sides of her cloak to fan herself.
She and Gabriel had had a pleasant, if not passionate, sex life. He had been quite patient with her being a virgin, taking their first encounter slow, trying hard not to shock, or upset her. However, in their short marriage, she had wondered if there should be more to their joining since she’d never felt as relaxed when it was over as Gabriel seemed to be. He would withdraw from her, kiss her on the cheek, roll over, and promptly fall asleep, leaving her tense and frustrated.
Her late husband had seemed to use up all his passion for racing, gambling, and drinking with his friends. As far as she knew, he had not wandered to other women’s beds, but truth be known, he had never stirred her blood the way that simple glimpse of Elliot’s chest had.
Even if she were willing to risk her heart once again, she knew Elliot had some reservations about her truthfulness. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, he believed she was hiding something from him.
I am
However, she would continue to hide it for as long as she was concerned he might haul her off to the magistrate, if he learned about her outstanding warrant. He’d been humiliated by the woman he’d had to arrest for theft. No doubt, he’d have no trouble turning her in, as well.
The carriage came to a rolling stop in front of her townhouse. She accepted Bones’ hand and stepped out of the vehicle, shaking her skirts. Just as she started up the steps, something caught her attention. She turned to the right and saw a figure rounding the corner at a rapid pace. There seemed to be something familiar about the person’s form and walk, but she could not place it.
Good heavens, this entire thing is turning me into a muddlehead.
Unable to shake off the feeling that whoever had just left the area had been there watching her house, she hurried up the steps, searching the ground for any more packages or notes.
Nothing.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she entered her house and closed the door behind her. She removed her cape and bonnet and handed them to Bridget, concerned to see her hands shaking. “Bridget, some tea to the drawing room, please.”
After only a few steps, she decided she’d had enough tea to float a ship. “Never mind, Bridget, just let Cook know she can serve luncheon whenever it is ready. I’ll be in the drawing room.” The familiarity of her drawing room gave her some comfort, but she still felt unsettled. Despite the time of day, she walked to the library and poured herself a sherry. She chuckled softly. With all the drinking she’d been doing lately, it would serve her well to move the sideboard from the library to the drawing room.
She wandered the room, touching things, smelling the flowers in her favorite vase, fingering the embroidery she’d finally finished, a sense of peace descending at the comfort her home brought. Her sanctuary. She was safe here. She trusted her servants, there were sturdy locks on her doors, and no one could harm her here.
If only she believed it.
