As for Mr. Cooper…
While he was nice enough and not nearly as terrible as she’d expected, he bored her to tears with his constant talk of steel production and furnaces and the factories he’d built and the businessmen he associated with and how he’d once visited Mr. Astor. It just seemed to go on and on with no end in sight.
So she wasn’t unhappy when he chose to cancel his visit one sunny Wednesday morning on account of a last minute business meeting he’d managed to set up. Intent on using her free time to catch up on the writing she’d been neglecting for the last week and a half, Charlotte called for some tea to be brought to her bedchamber and went to work.
She was three pages into her newest scene when Daisy arrived with a letter from Avery.
Dear Charlotte,
I scarcely know how to begin since I know the impact this letter is bound to have on you.
My offices were robbed last night and while it pains me to inform you of this, I have no choice but to let you know that I cannot locate your most recent work anywhere. Indeed, I fear the thieves may have taken it.
Please come see me as soon as you are able.
Your friend,
Avery Carlisle
Charlotte clasped the letter between her hands and read it again. It felt like the air she’d inhaled was wedged in her throat. She couldn’t breathe.
“What is it?” Daisy asked. “What’s happened?”
Hot little pin pricks climbed Charlotte’s back, spreading their way across her shoulders and up the nape of her neck. She had notes, but only one copy existed of the completed work. It was irreplaceable. Several months’ worth of effort was gone, just like that – vanished into thin air.
Tamping down the anger building inside her, Charlotte stood, folded the letter, and carefully placed it in her desk drawer. She wanted to scream, to throw a vase against the wall, to punch something.
Instead, she smoothed the skirt of her gown and raised her chin in defiance. “We’re going out, Daisy. Right now.”
Half an hour later, Charlotte entered The Black Swan as if she were on a mission from hell. “Where can I find Mr. MacNeil?” she asked a young man who was carrying a tray filled with tankards of beer.
“We shouldn’t be here, miss,” Daisy had warned when she’d realized their destination. “It isn’t safe.”
“It’s not as dangerous as you think,” Charlotte had countered. “Least of all in broad daylight. But if you’re concerned for yourself you may wait for me in the carriage.”
It was what she’d chosen to do the last time Charlotte had come here. This time, however, the maid decided to try and be just as brave as her mistress.
The young man Charlotte had stopped gave her a quick head to toe perusal. “He won’t like that you’ve come here, Miss Russell.”
Ignoring the fact that this man knew who she was for the sake of efficiency, Charlotte gave him her boldest stare. “I wouldn’t have done so unless it was very important. Now if you’d please point me in the right direction, I’d be much obliged.”
He hesitated briefly, then glanced at a nearby table before returning his attention to Charlotte. “Wait one second and I’ll take you to him myself.”
She remained where she was while he served a few men, conscious of the fact that the tavern had gone completely silent. Everyone stared at her as if she were some anomaly that defied explanation.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Daisy whispered.
“We’re going to Carlisle & Co. from here,” Charlotte explained. “So we need Mr. MacNeil’s escort.”
“Of course. I just think a note would have worked as well while saving you from taking risks.”
“This is quicker.”
Thankfully, Daisy refrained from saying anything else. Charlotte wasn’t sure her patience could be stretched much further without her snapping, and Daisy didn’t deserve being subjected to an angry outburst.
“This way,” the young man said when he returned. He led them farther into the tavern, through the taproom, and toward a door at the back. Pushing it open, he stepped outside, and held the door for them. Charlotte followed him into what turned out to be a large courtyard. She hadn’t realized how big The Black Swan actually was until now when she saw that the structure was shaped like a U with an external walkway linking the second floor rooms. The wing opposite the one she’d exited was comprised of stalls. She wasn’t sure what the smaller one to her right contained. Perhaps the kitchen and an office?
“That’s it. Now come at me again.”
The familiar voice drew her attention toward her right. It must have drawn Daisy’s as well because she gasped while all Charlotte could do was stare. Two men, both half-naked, confronted each other, their fists raised, until one of them dealt the other a series of punches to the chest.
Charlotte’s eyes widened.
“Ach, Richard, ye can do better,” Mr. MacNeil told his opponent with a cheerful grin. The other man struck Mr. MacNeil in the jaw. “Aye, like that, but damn ye, I did say to spare my face.”
“Sorry,” Richard shouted as he bounced away, dodging a blow from Mr. MacNeil only to stumble a moment later when one of Mr. MacNeil’s large fists made contact with his shoulder.
Charlotte could not look away. Indeed, if someone had tried to drag her from the scene she would have resisted. Because she didn’t want to miss a thing, not one single glimpse of Mr. MacNeil’s bare chest, of the muscles rippling over his broad shoulders and down his arms with each move he made.
The sun danced off his skin, reflected in the sheen of sweat coating his torso. Charlotte’s stomach tightened. Heat gripped her veins as her pulse leapt with furious excitement and something more – something so primal it made her want to reach out and touch him.
The desire to run her fingers over each exposed inch of flesh, to feel the flex and pull of his tendons while breathing in the pure male fragrance she knew he’d exude, was nearly irresistible.
She swallowed. How could this be? Mr. MacNeil had clearly been training for quite a while. Shouldn’t she find him disgusting until after he’d bathed? If so, she didn’t. In fact, she’d never been more drawn to him – to the point where she almost wanted to drag him off to some secret location for her own private exploration. Maybe she just wasn’t normal. After all, she was different from other women in almost every other regard.
“MacNeil,” shouted the young man who’d escorted Charlotte and Daisy.
“Give me a minute, Claus,” Mr. MacNeil responded. “I’m almost done.”
“That’s what you think.” Richard grinned.
“Aye, it is.” He seemed to predict the ensuing attacks Richard made, sidestepping every blow until Charlotte realized the ones that had made contact with him earlier had done so only because he’d allowed it. And then, with remarkable swiftness he suddenly turned, catching Richard off guard with a punch to his left shoulder.
The man fell back, landing in a sprawl on the packed dirt ground. Mr. MacNeil stepped forward and offered his hand. “Looks like ye’ve yet to learn a few tricks.”
Richard accepted his assistance with a wry smile, spitting on the ground as he stood.
“Oh my,” Daisy murmured. “This is most uncivilized, miss.”