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her bright blue eyes to Charlotte then to Lady Wynn. “And to the two of you. Don’t the pair of you look lovely.” Both her words and tone were warm, but a certain wariness lingered in her blue eyes.

“Thank you,” Charlotte said as she squeezed her mother’s arm, hoping she’d say something—anything—to ease the sudden tension in the air.

“As do you,” Lady Wynn added. “That color is wonderful on you.”

“Do you think so?” Lady Devlin glanced down at her gown. “I had mixed feelings when the dressmaker suggested it.”

Charlotte drew a breath of relief as the two continued to speak for several minutes. Her mother smiled genuinely at least twice during the conversation. Would these few minutes of visiting with Lady Devlin remind her what a difference friendship could make in one’s life?

“Lady Charlotte.”

Charlotte turned with surprise to see Lady Barbara. She hadn’t seen the woman since the awful party when Lord Palmer had given her the champagne with laudanum added.

“Good evening. I haven’t seen you in some time.” Charlotte held tight to her anger. She didn’t know whether Barbara had any inkling as to what her brother had done.

“I’ve been under the weather but am feeling much better now.” She lifted her chin as if daring Charlotte to disagree.

“I’m pleased to hear that.” Charlotte forced herself to be polite despite her suspicions.

“Good evening.” Margaret nodded at them both before facing Barbara. “How is Viscount Palmer?”

Charlotte turned away quickly to hide a smile. Trust Margaret to be direct and to the point.

“I believe he’s well, thank you.” A blush crept up Lady Barbara’s face, suggesting she understood the meaning behind Margaret’s question.

Margaret glanced around as if in search of him. “Is he here this evening?”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know.” Resentment glinted in the lady’s eyes.

“I thought the two of you were close and shared nearly everything.” Charlotte dearly wanted to know whether Barbara knew all that had happened that night.

“I didn’t realize—” Lady Barbara paused, blinking several times. “That is to say I didn’t think—” Then she clamped her lips shut. “If you’ll excuse me, I see someone with whom I simply must speak.”

Charlotte watched her stalk away with narrowed eyes.

“She knew,” Margaret whispered.

“I believe you’re right. To think she didn’t warn me.” Charlotte shook her head. “How disappointing.”

“Inconceivable. What did she hope to accomplish by speaking with you this evening? Did she think you didn’t suspect the truth?”

“I don’t know. But the situation is far from over. If I have the chance, I intend to speak with her about it in private.”

“Good.” Margaret nodded. “Heaven forbid if he tries that sort of trick on one of her other friends.”

“That’s why I want to make it clear how wrong her involvement was.” Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to see that her mother continued to visit with Lady Devlin. “I’ve decided to speak with Lord Samuelson,” she whispered to Margaret.

“You have?” Margaret’s eyes went wide. “Whatever will you say?”

“I’m not yet certain. Do you have any suggestions?”

“None, I’m afraid. However, I think it’s a fine idea. Especially before any additional plans are made that can’t be undone.”

While pleased her friend agreed with her, that didn’t make the task ahead easier. Speaking with the lord was only the first of several unpleasant tasks. No matter what she said, her father would be livid when he discovered what she’d done. “I might very well find myself in Wales with Aunt Edith for the remainder of the Season.”

“Aunt Edith? Isn’t she the one who insists on saying prayers every hour on the hour?”

“Yes. She’s also a firm believer that idle hands are the devil’s work.” The few times Charlotte had stayed with her had been quite unpleasant.

“Tell me again why you don’t wish to be ruined by Viscount Redmond?” Margaret muttered. “You could avoid much of this.”

Charlotte bit her lip. “Do you think I’m making a mistake?”

“Doing nothing would be a mistake.”

“Your advice is not very helpful,” Charlotte said, causing Margaret to smile.

“I wish I knew what the right thing to do was.”

Lucy Raybourne joined them, ending the discussion.

“You remember Mrs. Raybourne, don’t you?” Margaret asked.

“I do, indeed,” Charlotte said with a smile. “Lovely to see you again.”

Lucy Raybourne was a dark-haired beauty with a bright if shy smile and a kind word for everyone. She’d met her husband at her cousin’s Christmas house party where he’d fallen in love with her under the mistletoe. Or so went his version of the story.

“And you, Lady Charlotte,” Mrs. Raybourne said. “Isn’t this a lovely ball? Did you see the chalk art on the floor?”

One of the reasons Charlotte admired Mrs. Raybourne was her enthusiasm for the good. That was something of which her father didn’t seem capable. How did one go through life with such a dour outlook?

“Good evening, ladies.” Lord Samuelson bowed as he greeted the three of them, taking Charlotte by surprise. Her stomach dropped as she studied his stern countenance.

The ladies curtsied, with Margaret sending a worried glance at Charlotte. Though Charlotte was eager to have the conversation with him done, nerves made thinking difficult.

“Lady Charlotte, may I have the honor of this dance?” He held out his hand, both anticipating her answer and annoying her.

“Of course.” She placed her hand in his and gave Margaret a nervous smile as they left the two ladies to walk to the dance floor.

“How does this evening find you?” he asked, the drawl to his tone irritating.

“Fine. Thank you. And you?” The exchange seemed ridiculous when he didn’t truly care about her answer. She shook off the unhelpful thoughts as they joined the other dancers for a reel.

The distraction of the lively dance eased her anxiousness but didn’t inspire her as to what she should say.

“Is something amiss?” Lord Samuelson asked as the music drew to a close.

This was the perfect opening, and she had to seize it. She drew a breath and held tight to the image of James. “Actually, yes.” She looked up at the lord. “I need to speak with you for

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