“Beverly,” Dare acknowledged with a nod as the two men resumed their place before the carriage. “I take it my bride has cold feet?”

Lord Beverly glanced worriedly at the church, then back to the carriage. The blinds were suddenly shoved aside, and Charlotte’s face appeared in the glass. She beckoned to Dare.

“Er…something like that. I gather your lady has taken exception to something with the church. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was the circus. Didn’t know they held the things in a church. Doesn’t seem entirely proper to me.”

Dare made no reply, but opened the carriage door. “Good morning, Lady Beverly, Charlotte. Is there something I can do for you? Other than wed you, that is?”

“Yes,” Charlotte said, grabbing his hand and tugging him into the carriage. Dare allowed himself to be pulled in. He settled on the seat across from her with a hard-won expression indicating only mild curiosity.

“I want to tell you that I’m not marrying you.”

“Perhaps I’d best see if dearest Algernon needs me…” Caroline murmured as she tried to slide across Charlotte to the door.

“Stay where you are, Caro, I want a witness to this discussion.”

“But, Char, this situation is between you and Lord Carlisle. I really think I should leave—”

Charlotte had the audacity to frown at him. Dare ignored Caroline and sat back, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not marrying me?”

“No.”

“You came all this way in your wedding gown to tell me we’re not being wed today?”

Charlotte nodded. “That’s right. I shan’t wed you until you’ve come to your senses.”

“I see.” Dare nodded, even though he didn’t see, not in the remotest sense of the word. Still, he was fairly certain that Charlotte would fill him in on all the minor points of her declaration, such as exactly why she had changed her mind after working so hard to trap him. He nodded again, then opened the carriage door and stepped out, narrowly missing being trampled by a small herd of harlequins. He took a deep, dung-scented breath, and waited for the inevitable.

“Alasdair!” Charlotte jumped out of the carriage after him, showing a healthy bit of leg in the process. She stormed over to him, favoring him with a glare that could strip the hair off a cat. He fought the urge to smile at the outraged look in her fathomless eyes, all the while acknowledging that her fury just made him want to kiss her.

“You can’t just leave! You’re supposed to beg me to marry you!” She looked so disgruntled, he had to fist his hands to keep from pulling her toward him and kissing the scowl right off her face. “You’re not doing this correctly! You’re supposed to plead with me and sue for my favor, groveling and humbling yourself so I can tell you what you need to do to make me change my mind, and you haven’t done any of that, and as I’m not getting any younger waiting for you, you’d best get to it!”