Recalling how adamant he’d been about cutting ties with her when they’d spoken last night, she opened the window and called out, “Driver, we’d like to change course, please. Take us to Parker’s Lane instead.”
“Aye, miss,” the driver noted.
“What are ye doing?” Blayne asked when she leaned back inside the carriage and shut the window. He shot a slightly panicked look at Daisy before meeting Charlotte’s gaze. “Ye cannae be meaning to come back to The Black Swan with me.”
“That is precisely what I mean to do,” Charlotte told him firmly. “You and I need to talk.”
“I thought we did enough of that last night,” he grumbled.
“You certainly made every effort to push me away.”
“For good reason. Charlotte…” He glanced at Daisy once more and cleared his throat. Exasperation puckered his brow as he blew out a breath. “Miss Russell. I hold ye in the highest regard, but ye and I are from two different worlds and—”
“You said I didn’t know all there was to know about you. You told me you were worse than I could possibly imagine – that you’ve done something so terrible it would prevent me from loving you if I knew.” She stared at him, her heart pounding for the man she wanted and the possibilities he threatened to throw away for reasons she didn’t understand. “So tell me. Tell me what it is and let me choose for myself.”
He crossed his arms and averted his gaze. A muscle ticked at the edge of his jaw. “Have ye no respect for my privacy?”
“Not when it concerns my future and the one chance I have of being truly happy.”
Closing his eyes, he expelled a breath through his nose. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and even. “Before ye met me, ye believed happiness hinged on a cottage somewhere in the countryside, in a place where ye could build a retreat for like-minded women. If I recall, ye said this had been yer dream for years. It’s why ye saved every penny ye earned on yer books, and yet now, within the span of a few weeks, ye wish to abandon yer plans in order to what? Marry me and live happily ever after somewhere? Well it’s nae going to happen. I willnae marry, ye, Miss Russell.”
“So you’ve said,” she snapped and crossed her arms.
“And yet ye’ve gotten it into yer head that ye’re able to change my mind. Is that it?”
“I just don’t see why you won’t consider a more permanent attachment to me.”
“Because,” he said, leaning forward with flint in his eyes, “I dinnae love ye.”
Daisy gasped and Charlotte instinctively placed a steadying hand on her arm for fear she might interfere. The words cut deep, of course they did, though not nearly as much as his decision to make her believe she was nothing more to him than a bit of fun he could simply move on from.
Straightening her spine, she narrowed her gaze. “You’re lying to me again.”
Anger and something else – something wrought with pain and fear – flashed in his eyes. “Nae,” he said, his voice a harsh murmur, “I’d never do that.”
“Tell me what you’re hiding,” Charlotte insisted. “Tell me what it is you don’t want me to know.”
The carriage drew to a halt. They’d arrived and she hadn’t learned one additional thing.
As if he couldn’t wait to quit her company, Blayne flung the carriage door open and leapt out. Turning, he told her fiercely, “Ye go too far, Miss Russell. Further than I am willing to allow. If ye still require a man’s protection when ye’re out and about, I’ll see to it that ye get it. But it willnae be from me. Ye and I are done.”
The door slammed shut in Charlotte’s face, prompting her to jump. She glared at it for a good long minute before she made up her mind. “I can’t let him do this. I won’t.”
“Miss?”
“Daisy,” Charlotte told her maid firmly. “Do me a favor and don’t fall in love.”
“What?”
“It makes you do foolish things.” She opened the door and stepped down. “Please excuse me while I go after that bull-headed man.”
“Miss Russell. Should I—”
Charlotte didn’t listen. She was too vexed and far too determined to let anyone or anything stand in her way anymore. Whatever it was Blayne had done, she’d forgive him. Why on earth could he not see that?
Well, she meant to make him see. She meant to prove to him that her love trumped all. Good lord, she would lay down her life for that man, live in sin with him if that was all he’d allow. The only existence she couldn’t accept was one in which they lived apart. Knowing he was out there, unwilling even to try, was what would slowly kill her.
So she entered The Black Swan and ignored those who glanced her way. Instead, she kept her gaze firmly trained on the far end of the tavern as she marched forward.
“Miss Russell,” she heard Claus call. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Charlotte ignored him. She just kept going until she reached the door to Blayne’s office. Without knocking, she pushed it open and instantly spotted Blayne. He was standing by the sideboard to her left, pouring a drink. His eyes widened the moment he saw her, and then his lips parted as if he meant to say something.
Whatever it was, it would have to wait. She was tired of fighting, of trying to climb the wall he’d erected between them. It was time to just knock it down.
“Charlotte,” he said, turning toward her and shifting his gaze to a spot behind her right shoulder while she closed the distance between them. “You should—”
She flung her arms around his neck, rose up onto her toes, and pressed her mouth to his in a kiss so fierce it seared her own lips. It didn’t matter if he only stood there. She didn’t care if he didn’t immediately wind his arms around her and kiss her back. All that mattered was what she was saying with her caress. It was a simple declaration – one which words would only complicate.
This way, through this kiss, he would know. There could be no doubt left in his mind. He was hers and she was his. They belonged to each other and—
Someone cleared their throat. Not her and not Blayne.
Charlotte went utterly still, and then Blayne was easing her back, setting her carefully on her feet. Instead of desire, torment filled his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Ye shouldnae have followed me, lass. I…”
“Miss Russell?” a masculine voice inquired.
Charlotte turned, searching for the man to whom it belonged. Slim, with thinning blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a curiousness about him that put her on edge, he’d just risen from one of the armchairs located to the right of the door, so she’d not noticed him when she’d entered the office. Her mind had been fixed on solely one goal. She’d not bothered to check the room’s occupancy and besides that, it hadn’t occurred to her Blayne wouldn’t be alone when he’d only left her outside a few minutes prior.
Pasting a smile on her face, she considered denying her true identity, then changed her mind since the man clearly knew who she was. So she straightened her spine and gave a quick nod instead. “Yes. And you are?”
He took a step forward and gave her a short bow. “Mr. Edmund Hallibrand, from the Mayfair Chronicle.”