Free Once Again a Bride by Jane Ashford Page A

he didn’t tell anyone.” Lady Isabella looked from her to Frances. “Unless… you and Alec knew?”
    Frances shook her head.
    “How very odd.” Lady Isabella’s sharp gaze shifted back to Charlotte. “Quite a… romance.”
    Charlotte grimaced at the revolting thought and saw that the visitors noticed.
    “Edward saw Henry quite often at his club, you know. I can’t conceive why he didn’t mention you.”
    “Because all he cared about was spending my money on his wretched collection.” Charlotte flushed. She’d done it again, blurted out her thoughts like a gauche schoolgirl. Had a year of misery obliterated all her social skills?
    “Really? My dear, how dreadful for you. Are we going to sit down, Frances?”
    Their hostess’s cheek reddened. “Of course.” She gestured at the sofa and sat. The others followed suit.
    “If only I had known,” Lady Isabella continued. “I could have introduced you into society, shown you the way to go on, you know.” She smiled at Charlotte, then looked away. Charlotte had the feeling that her ugly black gown positively hurt the visitor’s eyes. “Poor Henry was quite… eccentric, of course. I don’t believe he ever accepted an invitation, but not even to tell his family that he had married!”
    “He never talked of anything but some chunk of pottery or bit of parchment he’d gotten his hands on,” said Edward Danforth. His voice, low and melodious, matched his appearance. “Not once, in all the times I ran into him in the clubroom.”
    Charlotte nodded feelingly. She and Edward Danforth exchanged a knowing glance, which held long enough for Charlotte to feel a flutter of warmth.
    Lady Isabella shrugged. “Ah, well, Henry was secretive even as a child. I remember once—he must have been about five, because it was the year James left for school—little things began to go missing around the house. Trinkets, mostly, but then one of Mama’s diamond earrings disappeared. It was such an uproar—the house turned upside down, the servants being questioned, one of the housemaids nearly taken before a magistrate. And then all the things were discovered in a box hidden in Henry’s bedchamber. He was furious when they were taken away.”
    “He didn’t care that the housemaid…?” began Frances.
    “Not a whit.” Lady Isabella made an airy gesture.
    Charlotte had no trouble believing it. Things had meant far more to Henry than people.
    The young footman returned with a tray, setting it on a low table in front of Frances. “Will you have some tea?” she asked.
    Edward shook his head, but his mother nodded. “Charlotte… may I call you Charlotte? We are family, after all.”
    “Please.”
    “We met the strangest man when we called at Henry’s house. Quite… rough-hewn. He would scarcely speak to us; it was difficult even to discover that you were visiting here.”
    “He is keeping watch over the house. Someone broke in during the night and stole one of Henry’s… artifacts.”
    “No!” Lady Isabella put a hand to her cheek. “While you were at home?”
    “Yes. It was very frightening.”
    “Terrifying, I should think.” She took a cup from Frances and sipped.
    “You should get rid of the whole lot,” Edward put in. “Sell it as fast as you can.”
    “I should like nothing better, but I cannot. Henry’s will made the collection into a museum. If anything is sold, even one object, the entire estate goes to the British Museum, including the house.”
    Lady Isabella drew herself up so abruptly she almost spilled her tea. “That is outrageous!”
    Charlotte was touched by the older woman’s visible anger. “But perfectly legal, I’m told.”
    “You poor thing. And so you are left all alone.”
    “Hardly alone, as she is quite welcome here,” said a voice from the doorway. Sir Alexander walked in and took up a station by the fireplace. “Hello, Aunt Bella. Edward.”
    “Alec, dear,” replied Lady Isabella. Her son merely nodded.
    Charlotte