With One Kiss by Cheryl Holt

Author:Cheryl Holt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

a

13

Charlotte stood by the window in her bedchamber and stared out at the dark, cloudy sky. She was wearing her nightgown and robe, her hair down and brushed out.

It was very late, the house quiet. Out in the sitting room, she heard the door open and shut, heard the key spin in the lock. It was Win, finally arriving to check on her. With so many hours having trudged by, she’d begun to wonder if he’d bother. She rested her palm on the glass and uttered a hasty prayer: for strength, for resilience, for wisdom.

Since her caustic chat with his mother, she’d been hiding. A maid had stopped by to see if she’d needed help dressing for supper. Charlotte had declined the assistance and had requested a tray be brought up instead.

Once she’d been certain the adults were busy downstairs, she’d taken her food and enjoyed her meal with Polly in the nursery. She was departing in the morning, and she’d had to explain what was about to happen and why.

The Dowager had refused to provide Charlotte with any information about Polly’s new school. It was located outside Manchester, so Polly would be very far away. The lengthy distance meant that the chances of Charlotte being with her ever again were very slim.

They’d conferred about many topics: how to stay in touch, how to thrive in difficult conditions. Polly had asked, if her situation grew horrid, if she could come to live with Charlotte, but Charlotte had had no answer. Her own future was up in the air, so she didn’t dare make promises she couldn’t keep.

She glanced over her shoulder as Win stepped into the room. There was a candle burning on the dresser, so she had a clear view of him. He would have donned formal attire to dine with his guests, so he’d changed since then. He was clad in a casual outfit, a flowing white shirt and tan trousers, similar to the ones he’d always had on at Fog Bay.

The neckline on the shirt was partially splayed to reveal a bit of his chest. The sight tickled her innards and it occurred to her that a perilous predicament was about to develop. The minutes of their amour were swiftly ticking to an end, and she was desperate to grab whatever little pieces of him he might be willing to share.

She ought to send him away, but her mood was at its lowest ebb. For years, she’d struggled to rise above the slings and arrows that Fate had shot at her, but one awful conversation with his mother had been enough to devastate her.

She hoped he hadn’t talked to the Dowager, that the old shrew hadn’t repeated any of her venom. Charlotte couldn’t bear to debate the vile comments or listen to him claim her words didn’t matter.

They mattered, all right. Charlotte wasn’t about to tarry and tangle with the Dowager, so she’d packed her bags and would flee without protest. When the maid had delivered the

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