“Yes, Mr. Westbrooke.” Penrose offered him a slight smile. “Before you ask, his lordship and ladyship are in the breakfast room. Please feel free to join them.”
“Thank you.” Carter strode down the corridor to the breakfast room where he found both Berkshire and Addie having breakfast.
“She wasn’t at the rail station.” Carter slumped in the chair across from Addie.
“Why don’t you have some breakfast and we can discuss this.” Addie narrowed her eyes at him. “You look awful. You have a bruise on your cheek and jaw.”
Carter waved his hand. “No matter. I’ve come to ask you to either accompany me or give me the address of Lady Pamela.”
Addie’s brows rose. “You think she’s there?”
“I’m praying she’s there. If she isn’t, I have no idea where else to look.”
Berkshire wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You don’t suppose she’s returned to France, do you? It seems that was the only place the poor girl felt safe and secure.”
Carter nodded. “A good point. But let’s hope she’s right here in Bath at Pamela’s home.”
Addie pushed her chair back and Berkshire jumped up to help her up. Despite what he was going through Carter had to laugh at how doting Berkshire was with his wife. By the time the babe grew close to arrival, he would probably be carrying her everywhere.
“I will go with you. Just give me a minute to freshen up.” Addie walked past him and rested her hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find her. She loves you; you know.”
“Yes. I have surmised. But that doesn’t do me any good if I can’t find her.”
Addie squeezed his shoulder. “We will.”
Lottie rolled over and fell onto the floor, forgetting she was sleeping in Pamela’s sofa and not her own comfortable, large bed. “Ouch.” She rubbed her shoulder and climbed back up.
“Do you feel any better?” Pamela sat on a chair across from the sofa.
“No.” Lottie grinned. “But I didn’t expect to, anyway.” She had arrived at Pamela’s room in the boarding house around six in the morning after a night of tossing and turning and finally deciding she had to set Carter free. He didn’t know what was best for him, so she had to be the strong one and do it.
They made love twice, and Lottie had relished every minute, knowing it would be their last. She left Carter sleeping soundly, sprawled across the bed, his face bruised from the beating he’d taken from his brother. From what she’d seen, Charles must look much the same way.
“What are you going to do?” Pamela eyed her with sympathy. “You know Carter loves you very much. Do you really think he will give you up because his brother doesn’t approve?”
Lottie had told Pamela what happened when she showed up at the boarding house’s front door after a quick hackney ride from her home. Rather than offer advice, Pamela was smart enough to just listen to Lottie’s sad tale. Then she brought out a pillow and blanket and invited her to sleep for a few hours. Which she apparently had done.
“Would you like some breakfast?”
“No. I have no appetite, but a cup of tea would be nice.” Lottie looked down at her dress, a wrinkled mess. “I didn’t even bring any clothes with me. I was afraid of waking Carter up and rehashing what happened last night.”
“I hope you plan on talking to him before you make any major decisions. He has the right to let you know how he feels.”
Lottie snorted. “I know how he feels, but he’s not thinking clearly. We’re talking about the rest of our lives, Pamela. I can’t have his entire family under a cloud of disgrace because of me.”
Pamela moved across the room and sat next to Lottie, putting her arm around her shoulders. “Your husband is a grown man. He knows what he can handle and what he cannot. Just give him a chance to talk to you before you do anything rash.”
Lottie sighed. It was such a dilemma. She had spent a good part of the night before replaying Charles’s words in her mind and cringing each time.
They were in the middle of tea when a knock sounded at the bedroom door. “I am sure I know who that is,” Pamela said as she stood to answer the door. She turned to Lottie. “Do not try to climb out a window. This is the second floor.”
“My lady, your guest has a caller.” The man who manned the front door peeked around Pamela. “She must come downstairs to the drawing room to meet with him.”
Pamela turned. “Won’t you at least talk to him?”
Lottie climbed to her feet. “Yes. I might as well get this over with.”
As she entered the small drawing room next to the front entrance hall, Carter turned from where he stood in front of the window. “Lottie!” He strode across the room and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “What the devil did you do this for? I’ve been frantic, looking for you all morning.” He leaned back and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t ever do this to me again.”