Chapters (30)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Postscript
- A Note about Potency and the Pleasures of Scandal
- About the Author
- Copyright
“Oh, yes. We have spent quite a lot of time together. Mall is from the Welsh border.” Charlotte smiled at her perplexed brother-in-law. Served him right for treating her as if she were a silly nincompoop.
“Well,” Patrick said finally, when it became clear that she was not going to explain any further, “why don’t I look out the servants’ entrance, and if I don’t see anyone I’ll lope off and if I’m lucky no one will smoke me!”
Charlotte laughed. “I shall have to ask Mall for an appropriate retort to that proposal.” She got up cautiously and held out her hand. Her eyes danced.
Patrick was surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy of Alex. What on earth for? He didn’t intend to get married, even to a lovely girl like this one.
“Here’s my famble,” he said jokingly, taking Charlotte’s delicate hand in his. He stooped and kissed her cheek. “I am very glad you have joined the family,” Patrick said in an entirely different tone. “Alex deserves the best, and I think he might have found it.”
Charlotte smiled into Patrick’s dark eyes, eyes so alike Alex’s and yet so different. It was odd that she could find one face soul-shatteringly beautiful, and the other—practically identical to Alex’s—just a nice, handsome face.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I hope when all this fuss has died down we may come to know each other better.”
“As do I, my lady.” Patrick bowed formally, and left the room. When he didn’t return in five minutes, Charlotte assumed he had found the coast clear. It was time to think about moving the household to the country. She had been waiting for Alex, hoping not to have to supervise such a large, complicated endeavor by herself, especially without a butler. But what could she do? Clearly Alex didn’t have any idea when he would be returning to England. And now that winter was drawing in, coal smoke was starting to darken the streets. She remembered the article she had discussed with Alex long ago, about the black little lungs of autopsied babies, and shuddered. They would wait one more month for Alex to return, but then she and Pippa must leave London.