'I am not-' He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He
'I don't doubt that,' Gwen said with a smile. ''Tis obvious you are both a bit soft on one another. Artemis, do you know where Her Grace is?'
The butler gestured toward the hallway. ' 'Er room. Third door down on the right.'
'Thank you.'
Artemis blocked the doorway for a moment. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut, moving out of the way.
Halfway down the gallery, Hugh paused and took another deep breath. There was so much to comprehend at once, it was nearly impossible, and in the end, the only one who could clarify anything was Charlotte. And feeling a cad that he'd made her cry, Hugh was suitably contrite when he knocked on the closed door. He heard her bid him entry and walked inside.
She sat at the escritoire, studying the map. With her bright red hair piled atop her head and dark green dressing gown, she was a vision. When she looked up, her eyes were as clear as a field of grass in spring, her nose pert and not red. She hadn't been crying at all. It was easy to deduce that he'd been duped. Obviously the butler felt Hugh should know the truth.
Her chin lifted. 'Good morning, my lord.' Her voice was cool and impartial, far removed from the temptress who'd been on her hands and knees for him just a short time ago.
Goaded into it by her chilly demeanor, he replied, 'Good morning, Your Grace.'
Charlotte flinched, a slight movement of her brows that he would have missed if he hadn't been determinedly searching for it.
'Artemis,' she muttered under her breath. 'Drat him.'
Hugh closed the door and waited.
She sighed. 'Very well, then.' Coming to her feet, she moved around the small desk and approached him head-on, just as she approached all her difficulties. 'Is there anything else you discovered?'
'You refer to Guinevere?' He realized then that their meeting could not have been unplanned. Had the young girl studied in her room, he would never have learned of her existence. For whatever reason, the members of Charlotte's odd menagerie wanted him to know their secrets.
Pursing her lips, she gestured to the nearby settee, waiting until he sat to continue. 'Everything I told you was the truth.'
'Truth by omission,' he argued.
'But the truth nevertheless.'
'Was that you in black and shrouded in lace?'
'Yes, that was I.'
He released a sigh of relief. He'd thought he was insane for feeling aroused by the darkly clad duchess. Knowing it was Charlotte in disguise put the whole encounter in perspective.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. 'Gwen is Carding's daughter. Since he's not married, I'm certain you can deduce the nature of her association to him.'
Hugh leaned back, noting the sudden weariness that weighted Charlotte's slender frame. 'He left her with you?'
'Good heavens, no,' she said, with a bitter laugh. 'That man cared nothing for his own father. Think he would care for a bastard? It was Glenmoore who asked me to look after Gwen. He discovered her existence when she was a child, and started a small stipend for her mother. But the mother passed on, and there was no one to care for Gwen. Carding refused to do anything for her, so Glenmoore brought her here. He wanted a grandchild desperately, and Gwen is such a dear. One cannot help but adore her.'
'And the marriage?'
'It was the only way Glenmoore could ensure Gwen's future. He could leave me a trust for Gwen, and grant me the rights to claim it, should Carding prove to be a problem.'
'A pitiable trust fund,' Hugh muttered. 'This place is a disgrace.'
Charlotte reached over and claimed his hand, jolting him with a spark of sensual awareness. 'Glenmoore was afraid to bequeath too large a trust. Since the marriage was never consummated, as Carding well knows, the duke wanted to give as little provocation as possible for a contest.'
She stood and began to pace. 'No one can discover who the duchess is, Hugh. We cannot have outsiders questioning who Gwen is. Those were Carding's only requirements in allowing us the use of this house.'
'What future does this place hold for her?' he asked, standing to face her. 'What kind of life is this?'
'None. Which is why Glenmoore left me the map.'
'Bloody hell, Charlotte!' Hugh scrubbed a hand over his face. ''Tis ridiculous to pin all your hopes on that blasted map. Pirate's treasure and other such nonsense… You shall rot out here. And Gwen, as well.'
'And you would take us in?' she challenged, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparked with anger. 'A mistress with a minor ward and entourage of disabled servants? Gwen would be thoroughly ruined. Or do you intend to hide us away? Perhaps the accommodations would be superior, but we would still be trapped, our futures dependent on the whim of a rake's temporary infatuation.'
His hands clenched into fists. Would no one ever trust him to be responsible? 'Tell me, Charlotte, what am I to you?'
She snorted. 'A charming stranger. A man too devilishly handsome for his own good. An amorous libertine who shows flashes of kindness that startle me.'
Hugh turned away and moved toward the door. He'd heard enough.
'What am I to you?' she called after him.
Pausing on the threshold, he turned back. 'A beautiful woman whose sensuality calls to me. A nurse, a guardian, a champion for those in your care. A pragmatist who will do anything to survive, a trait I appreciate, since I lack it myself. An honest individual who said she admired me, who believed, if only for a moment, that I am capable of doing whatever needs to be done.'
'You are.'
'Only when it relates to you.'
Charlotte's lower lip quivered, her fingers picking restlessly at her skirts.
He took a deep breath and said, 'I've acted out of character ever since I stepped foot in this monstrosity of a house, and since I didn't much care for my character before, I don't mind at all. In fact, I rather like myself better when I'm with you. I like that I admire things about you other than your physical attributes, though I admit to spending a great deal of the last twenty-four hours admiring those.' He sketched a bow, then turned again and left the room.
'Hugh, wait!' Charlotte hurried after him.
'Why?' he asked over his shoulder. 'I understand.'
'But you don't.'
Hugh stopped but didn't turn around. She circled him, her lush floral scent enveloping his senses.
She tilted her head back to look at him. 'If it were just you and I, and no one else, I would go with you. I would leave everything behind to be with you, for however long you would have me.'
'But it isn't that way.'
'No.' Her hand reached for his, just as she'd often done since he met her. 'And I am dreadfully sorry it isn't. You must realize, too many people depend on me to simply hand over everything and hope for the best.'
His mind shifting industriously, Hugh reasoned out a way to prove he was someone on whom she could rely. 'You want to find that treasure, and I can assist you. But you will have to trust me.'
Her eyes widened, her wariness a palpable thing.
'I can take you to Lord Merrick,' he continued, hoping to allay her refusal. 'His father-in-law is Jack Lambert. If anyone could decipher that map, Merrick could, or at the very least he would know someone who could.'
Charlotte swallowed hard.
Rushing ahead, he said, 'Both my sister and Lord Merrick have holdings in Derbyshire. That was my destination before fate led me here.' He brushed his fingertips across her lips.
'You shall have to travel by ship eventually. It would relieve me greatly to know you traveled on a Lambert
