taking them all off your hands. The only thing you need concern yourself with is the dispersing of Charlotte's trust, which I'll set aside for Gwen, as your father intended.'
Jared's face broke out in a grin. 'Ah, I see. What a perfect match you two are.'
'What are you talking about?' Charlotte asked crossly.
'This is about the widow's trust, Charlotte dear.' His gaze returned to Hugh. 'You should know, Montrose, that the stipend is negligible. Not enough to keep you in the style to which you've become accustomed. Certainly not enough to wager.'
Hugh stiffened. 'This is not about money.'
'It is for Charlotte,' the duke said. 'It's always about money for Charlotte.' He looked at her. 'Do you know anything about your intended, dear? Did he tell you how he wagered away almost every shilling of the La Coeur funds? He was forced to sell his sister to Remington to bail them out of debt. Why do you think an earl's daughter married a bastard?'
Suddenly Charlotte's nausea became a very real hazard, and she clutched her stomach in a vain attempt to still its roiling.
'Lady Julienne chose Remington of her own accord,' Hugh growled.
'She was set to marry a marquess,' Glenmoore continued, digging in deeper, as he relished Charlotte's obvious distress. 'But then Lord Fontaine cast her aside when he realized how far in his pockets Montrose was.'
'Lies!' Hugh glanced her way, his face flushed, his fists clenched.
Glenmoore arched a brow. 'Are you claiming you weren't nearly destitute from irresponsible gambling?'
Hugh's expression could have been set in stone. 'That was long ago.'
'Only a few years, I believe.' The duke's smile was filled with malice. 'Regardless, I was on my way to join the rest of the party, and I don't wish to hold up the proceedings. Congratulations, Montrose. Charlotte. I'll await your missive detailing where I should direct Charlotte's pension. Also, since you won't require the manse anymore, I'll make arrangements to sell it.' Glenmoore walked away, leaving destruction in his wake.
Hugh was so furious for a moment, he could hardly think. When Gwen collided with him on the stairs and blurted that her father had cornered Charlotte, the rage he'd felt had almost overwhelmed him. If he had any doubts earlier about his feelings for his paramour, he didn't any longer.
'You should never have told Glenmoore we were affianced!' Charlotte groaned. 'He will mention our engagement to someone just to embarrass you. This is a disaster.'
Hugh stepped closer to offer comfort. She was frighteningly pale, her mouth and eyes rimmed with lines of tension.
Trying for levity, he placed a hand over his heart and gave an exaggerated sigh. 'You know, a man could be irreparably damaged by such a response to his proposal.'
She flinched. 'We must go down and correct this mistake. Whatever will your family say when they hear of this?'
Hugh tapped a finger to his chin. 'Congratulations?' he suggested.
'You are impossible. Lady Julienne warned me that you were known for being irresponsible and jumping into situations headfirst. I had no notion what she was talking about until now.' She attempted to pass him, and he sidestepped into her path. 'Hugh, the guests will gossip if we hold up the meal.'
'Perhaps, but it won't be too untoward in this company.' At her raised brow, he explained. 'Julienne and Remington have been relegated to the fringes of Society for years. Only the most daring and licentious of guests will deign to associate with them. Glenmoore attended only because he wishes to enter into a partnership with Remington, who has the devil's own luck when it comes to making money.'
She tilted her head back to look at him, her entire body tense and expectant, like a bird prepared to take flight. Hugh's heart sank to his stomach. She didn't look even remotely like a woman pleased with an offer of marriage.
A sick feeling of dread pooled and then hardened in his gut. 'Don't you think we should discuss my proposal?'
Charlotte stumbled backward, her eyes wide and stricken. 'Good heavens, you weren't serious!'
Hugh moved toward her, his heart racing in near-panic. 'You were afraid my affections would be temporary. You worried I would cast you aside and leave you and your menagerie destitute. I've resolved that. As my wife, your comfort will be assured.'
She shook her head. 'We hardly know one another.'
'I think we know each other very well.' He stepped closer and reached for her hand, which she didn't raise to meet his. 'Don't you care for me, Charlotte?' he asked softly. 'Even a little?'
Her fingers tightened on his. 'Of course I care for you, Hugh, very much. But…'
'I searched for you all afternoon.'
'You did?' She began to tremble.
'I did.' Lifting her hand, he held it to his cheek, despising the glove that separated his skin from her touch. 'I needed to find you, to warn you about Glenmoore, but you kept moving, and I could never catch you. I was quite desperate for you, actually.'
'Hugh…'
He nuzzled into her palm. 'I waited in your room for nearly an hour. Where did you go after you left the stables?'
'I-I was in Julienne's room.'
'Ahh… I was sick with worry. I couldn't bear to think of you facing Glenmoore alone.'
'Oh, Hugh…' Her fingers curled, cupping his cheek. 'I am accustomed to caring for myself.'
He leaned into her touch, the warmth of which burned through her glove and heated his blood. No other woman had ever affected him as Charlotte did. 'There is no weakness in relying on someone to assist you and care for you. The only weakness is in allowing yourself to suffer when support is at hand.'
Beloved green eyes swam with tears. 'But I cannot rely on you, Hugh. I do not know you well enough. Just in the last half hour, I've learned things about you that have shocked and disturbed me, not just from Glenmoore, but from your sister as well.'
Raw pain, piercing and wounding, cut him to the quick. His eyes slid closed. 'Please don't say that,' he murmured hoarsely, pulling her against him, needing the physical closeness, because he felt her withdrawing. 'Don't judge me by my past.'
'There is more at stake here than just you and me, Hugh. You'll regret this rash proposal later. I am not a suitable wife for you. The burden of those I bring with me will begin to weigh on you. You will come to resent me and then hate me. I lack the breeding to be a proper countess. You would-'
Hugh covered her mouth with a kiss, cutting off her words. Her lips melted into his, and he groaned, pressing his advantage, his hands stroking her back until she opened with a whimper. She returned his ardor in equal measure, kissing him as if it were the last time, as if they never would again. Her arms lifted, her small hands cupping the nape of his neck, holding him close. The lush, ripe mouth that he loved so much moved feverishly under his, forcing his desire to rise up to match his anger and fear, then far surpassing both.
Pulling away, he rested his damp forehead against hers. 'What are you afraid of?' he asked softly. 'Being abandoned or discarded? I'm not Glenmoore. I won't take all that you are or all that you have, and leave you with nothing.'
'M'm not afraid.'
'You are. Afraid to trust. Afraid to hope. Afraid to love.'
'Hugh-'
'Have I disappointed you, Charlotte? Have I promised you something and then not delivered?'
'Not yet, but-'
'Not ever. You either trust me to support you, trust me to be a good husband, to love you and care for you… You either trust me, or you don't.'
She melted against him, her slight weight necessary and welcome. He hugged her close, squeezing her, until there was no space between them. He held his breath, waiting.
'Please understand,' she begged. 'I am responsible for the care of Gwen and the others. My decisions must be made with my head, not my heart.'
