Ines took a step back.
“Yes, it’s true. I’m taller than many men and if I am not careful about the style of my hair and the colors I wear, I look hawkish and severe.”
That look would have suited her personality, Ines thought.
“But you—in your bare feet and braid—look pretty as a picture. Any man who saw you in this moment would want to seduce you. Did he seduce you?” she asked.
Ines couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. How dare this woman?
Lady Charlotte waved a hand. “Do not pretend I offended your delicate sensibilities. What do you want? Money? Prestige for your shop?”
Ines knew when she was being called a whore. “You offend me, senhora,” Ines finally managed, her voice shaking with rage. “Please leave or I shall.”
“Did he tell you he would marry you?” Lady Charlotte asked. Though the question was asked casually, the woman’s eyes told a different story. She desperately wanted to know the answer.
“What does it matter?” Ines asked, sidestepping the question. “I am certain you would never allow him to marry a lacemaker.”
Lady Charlotte looked away. “Of course not.” The silence between them grew and then Lady Charlotte paced away from Ines. “So he has not asked for your hand in marriage?”
Ines had no intention of telling the woman that Duncan hadn’t asked anything of her. “If Duncan cares for me then that is between the two of us. You have no say in what I do.”
“Then you love my son.” Lady Charlotte turned and looked intently at Ines.
Ines tried to stand straight and stare down the other woman, but the mention of love made her want to crumple. It hurt to think of her feelings for Duncan. “He does not love me, so you need not worry. I will leave very soon, and you need never think of me again.”
Lady Charlotte nodded slowly. “Perhaps the colonel’s arrival will be the best thing for all of us.” She moved to the door and opened it. “Please wear your shoes to dinner.” She glided through the door and closed it after her.
Ines wanted to throw something at the door. She would have if she’d been holding anything. Wear her shoes to dinner. As though she did not know what was appropriate! She had been warned about Lady Charlotte. The woman was a dragon—a grumpy dragon who only looked for fault in others. If Ines had thought she might win the woman over, she saw the error in those thoughts now. But she would not give her the satisfaction of telling her that Duncan had not asked for her hand in marriage or told her he loved her.
Duncan had told Ines his mother would never accept her, but if he loved her, she did not think that would have been enough to keep him from her side. She did not want to believe he did not love her. The way he had touched her, kissed her, whispered her name. The way he had fought the reivers for her and the way he blamed himself for not keeping her safe. He loved her, but he was afraid to lose her. He might say he had no heart, but she saw otherwise. Something must have happened to injure it, to make him afraid to be hurt again. Given time and patience, Ines thought she might be able to help him mend his heart. She might be able to show him that she would never hurt him.
But she did not have time. Benedict would be here soon, and Lady Charlotte would do all she could to keep Duncan from her in the meantime. And perhaps that was for the best. If he would not fight for her, risk his heart and the wrath of his mother for her, then he was not worthy of her. Ines would not force him to love her. She’d almost been trapped in a marriage herself. She would never trap anyone else or allow herself to be trapped with a man who could not reciprocate her feelings.
And she definitely did not want to be trapped with a woman like Lady Charlotte.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought of the long journey back to London. Without Duncan. And then there would be the days and weeks and months of lacemaking and sympathetic looks from Catarina and long hours where Ines tried to hide her hurt. But she would survive. And even if she never found a man to sweep her off her feet or throw her over his shoulder, she would have the memories of this adventure to hold on to.
It would have to be enough.
Ines would have preferred to stay in her room all day and avoid Lady Charlotte, but she hadn’t eaten much at the noon meal and she was hungry. She ventured downstairs, hoping to be able to sneak into the kitchen or find a servant who would bring her tea and toast. Instead she heard her name as she tiptoed past the drawing room.
“Miss Neves,” Lady Charlotte said in her loud, unmistakable voice. “Join us, please.”
Ines paused just out of sight and blew out a breath. She was still not wearing shoes. She’d wanted to move quietly. And her hair was still plaited and hanging down her back. There was nothing for it now. Besides, Lady Charlotte already thought of her as a peasant. She threw back her shoulders and moved to the door of the drawing room.
“I do not wish to trouble you,” she said, her gaze finding Lady Charlotte near the fire. Unfortunately, it also found Duncan seated in a chair near his mother. He was looking at Ines, his amber gaze warm. She looked away before her body persuaded her head she should go to him. “I only wanted tea and toast. I will find a servant.”
“We have tea here,” Lady Charlotte said. “Come in.”
Ines let out a breath and moved into the room. There was a tea service beside Lady Charlotte. A tray had been set on the table, and it was filled with small sandwiches and cakes. Ines’s belly rumbled audibly.
“Sit there.” Lady Charlotte pointed to a couch on the other side of the table, across from the fire. Ines sat, trying not to look at Duncan. She glanced at him anyway, and he seemed to be trying very hard not to look at her.
“How do you take your tea?” the lady asked.
“Sweet,” Duncan said, “and with a splash of cream.”
Ines flicked her gaze at him. How had he known that? When had he heard her ask for tea and how had he remembered?
Lady Charlotte said nothing, prepared the tea, and handed it to her. Ines’s hands were shaking, and she set the tea on the table so she would not spill it. She eyed the tray with the sandwiches, and Lady Charlotte handed her a small plate. “Eat, little bird.”
“She may be small, but she can eat as much as Fortescue.”
“I do not,” Ines said, piling her plate with sandwiches. Of course, taking half the tray of food probably contradicted her words, but she didn’t care at this point. “Is it not rude to speak of a lady’s appetite?”
“It is,” Lady Charlotte said. She gave her son a long look. “You seem to know Miss Neves quite well.”
“Nae really,” he said.
Ines tried to swallow the bite of sandwich in her mouth, but it seemed to stick in her throat. How could he say he did not know her well?
“She tells me she is a lacemaker,” Lady Charlotte said as though Ines were not sitting right there.
“She is. Her lace is coveted in London. All the ladies are after it. We gifted a wee scrap of it in the lowlands and the farmer’s daughters were so pleased, the farmer gave us loan of his horses.”
“My mother taught me how to make lace,” Lady Charlotte said. Ines raised her gaze to the lady. She pointed to a table in the corner with a lace covering. “I made that.”
“Brussels lace,” Ines said, glancing at it. “Very nice.”