Charming Sir Charles (Dashing Widows 5)

“What lady?” he asked impatiently.

“She wouldn’t say, sir. And heavy veils prevented me from assaying her identity.” The butler cleared his throat. “She appears very eager to speak with you.”

Brief curiosity surfaced, then sank back into the mire that his life had become lately. He put the Petrarch in a box and picked up another book.

“I don’t have time for ladies right now,” he said in a flat tone. “Tell the wench, whoever she is, to go away. I’m surprised you didn’t tell her yourself, Willis. You know I’m leaving in the morning.”

“She asked me to give you this note.”

With an irritated sigh, Charles put down the leather-bound book and lifted the scrap of paper from the salver Willis extended toward him.

Swiftly he unfolded the paper. He didn’t know the writing, but what he saw made his heart swell with an emotion he hadn’t felt since he’d left Leicestershire.

Sir, I have no right to your consideration, but I’d appreciate a moment of your time. S.

A cryptic message. Good news or bad?

Hope rushed through him and set his blood pumping. Was Sally here to tell him she carried his child?

As quickly as anticipation rose, it crashed again. No, surely not. It was too soon.

“Sir Charles?” Willis prompted, and he realized he was still staring at the note.

He looked up to meet his butler’s impassive gaze. Willis could convey all the animation of a block of wood, when he wanted to. “You haven’t left her on the step, have you?”

“No, sir. I showed the lady into the drawing room.” He added with purpose, even if his expression didn’t change. “Nobody else observed her entrance. I was in the hall when she arrived.”

“Good man.” Charles suddenly smiled at his butler. “Remind me to raise your salary.”

Willis blinked at this sudden change to cheerfulness in a master who had been like a bear with a sore head all week. “Yes, sir. Thank you. Shall I show the lady in here?”

“No, Willis. I’ll go to her. You and the rest of the staff may retire for the night. I won’t require anything more, and I’ll be happy to show my visitor out, once our business is concluded.”

He hoped to hell he wasn’t lying about being happy. Although given Sally had delivered his marching orders a week ago, he couldn’t imagine what she was doing here unless she’d changed her mind about accepting his proposal.

“Yes, Sir Charles.” Willis bowed. “Good night.”

“Good night, Willis.” He paused. “And thank you.”

Was that a glint in his butler’s gimlet eye? “My pleasure, sir.”

What the devil did this unexpected visit mean? Charles’s gut churned with an unsettling mixture of expectation and trepidation.

Had Sally come to accept his offer of marriage? Or had she called to say a final goodbye?

No, by God, he wouldn’t let that be so. He shouldn’t have given up on her—although the woman who left Sans Souci had been locked away behind an impenetrable wall of ice, thicker than ever after her lapse of control.

Well, ice could melt, and there was a key for every lock. Sally had met her match, even if she didn’t know it yet.

Once he was alone, Charles sucked in a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to settle its wild disorder. In the last week, he’d barely picked up a comb, and he was wearing an old shirt, definitely not suitable for receiving company. But be damned if he’d waste time going upstairs to tidy himself up.

With a purpose that had deserted him during these vile days of yearning and despair, he marched out of his library, across the shadowy hall, and into the drawing room.

He paused in the open doorway and took in the tall, slender woman swathed in black veiling. It had only been a week since he’d seen her, but the immediate power of Sally’s presence struck him like a blow from a mallet.

His heart crashed against his ribs and every drop of moisture dried from his mouth, so it was an effort to speak. “How the devil you can see an inch in front of your face with all that falderal floating around you is beyond me.”

She lifted away the funereal bonnet, and he stepped forward to take it from her and place it on a chair. She was pale and resolute, and her eyes were huge in her thin face. He couldn’t read her expression as she stripped off her black kid gloves, but he didn’t sense any hostility. “I didn’t have to come far.”