In fact, as each day passed and her husband presumably drew farther ahead, Charlotte deliberately slowed down their journey. They took three-hour lunch breaks while she and Pippa rolled happily in the grass. They stopped at any town that took her fancy and she sketched the church steeple, or gave a chortling Pippa a bath. In short, she and Pippa got to know each other, and she grew calmer, gathering strength for the moment when she would have to encounter her husband again. She felt more composed as each day passed. She had a fairly good sense of what lay ahead. Alex had decided to dump her in Scotland. The prospect didn’t bother her too much. Let him think what he wanted. She was no whore; she had slept only with her own husband.

But she would never, ever allow him in her bed again. Even the ecstasy, which she allowed herself to remember only in her dreams, wasn’t worth the acute sense of shame and horror that had followed both of her sexual encounters with Alex. She didn’t foresee a problem in that respect: Alex had clearly said he would never sleep with her again. So Charlotte planned for a solitary future in Scotland. Perhaps her parents could visit her next summer. There wasn’t much she regretted about leaving London, although she already missed Sophie acutely. And her mother. More than anything, she would like to sob on her mother’s shoulder. But it wouldn’t change anything, Charlotte counseled herself, as she rose from another tear-filled night.

By the time the two coaches crossed the border into Scotland, the young, innocent girl who had bumped into Alex on the stairs at Lady Prestlefield’s ball was long gone. In her place was an utterly collected, assured countess who was approachable only when she played with her little girl.

“She’s a proper lady, hain’t she?” asked a red-haired urchin of his mother.

“Aw, she’s a Sassenach, and don’t you forget it!” she replied roughly. “Look at all her uppittyness! That sort never let down their hair. They’re not like us.”

Staring at the beautiful, somehow icy, English countess, the little boy nodded. She wasn’t much like his chubby, beloved mum, that’s for sure. He clutched her around the waist in a sudden hug.

“Oh, Rickie, do give over!” She pushed off his arms. Just then a little girl hurled herself at the countess, crying loudly. And the exquisitely dressed Englishwoman bent down and swung the babe into her arms, smiling at her tenderly. Maybe they weren’t so different, Megan thought. Megan hauled her own son up for a hug and they stared together as the beautiful countess walked off, her head bent close to her little daughter’s ear.

Chapter 15

Chapter 15