"Is he dead, do you think?"
Sophie slowly got to her feet, Claymore steadying her. She looked from Charlie to Claymore and back, a wide grin stealing over her features. "Oh, well done, Charlotte. He will have quite the bruise. I taught you well."
Claymore's head whipped in Charlie's direction. "Seems I have a name at last..." He stared at her, causing Charlie's cheeks to flush.
Heavens, she thought, when did she turn into such a ninny in the company of a man?
"Beg pardon," Claymore said, turning an incredulous glance to Sophie, "but did you just congratulate your friend on attacking a peer of the realm?"
His tone made Charlie smile. The poor Earl was significantly outnumbered. Not only must he deal with an outspoken Charlie, but the no nonsense Sophie as well.
"Charlie would have a good reason for doing so, I imagine," Sophie replied back. "Perhaps you'd like to enlighten me? Or inform others of this injustice?"
It was Claymore's turn to flush. No man, surely, would like to retell of his face greeting a well-aimed punch, let alone by a lady. Or a bloody nose, Charlie thought, grinning.
Lord Simpton shifted then, drawing their collective gazes. Charlie held her breath as he snorted, his lean, bruised body giving a quake before he fell silent once more.
Greyson was the first to speak.
"I think a better question is what do we intend to do with him now, " his black Hessians gave the man's arm a small nudge. Simpton snored, but dropped heavily back into his slumber.
"We?" Charlie asked, staring at Claymore in disbelief.
At the same time, Sophie said, "We could leave him for the buzzards."
Charlie moved her incredulous gaze to Sophie. Claymore turned his face away, his bruised jaw making Charlie feel a tinge of guilt. But that wasn't what drew her gaze. Claymore twisted away, but Charlie was positive a smile had stretched over his features. He faced them once more, however, his expression blank. "Bloodthirsty lot, aren't you?"
"What? " Sophie asked, shrugging. "It's a most expedient method."
"And you know this from experience?" Charlie asked, brow raised.
A wry smile quirked Sophie's lips. "More like I dreamed of just such an occurrence."
Charlie snorted, "I wonder why I'm not surprised."They shared an amused smile.
Turning to Claymore, Charlie found him looking between them, eyes wide. She could almost hear him wondering if they were seriously contemplating such an action.
"What did you mean by 'we?'"
Claymore's attention shifted to Charlie at her softly uttered words. The intensity of his look caused her to suck in a sharp breath. The intensity of his gaze was something she didn't think she would ever get used to. He had a way of looking at her - as if he were seeing her, as if he knew all her secrets.
Charlie shivered, bringing her gloved hands to her shoulders, rubbing fiercely.
"Yes, 'we,'" Claymore said. "After all, if you wouldn't have left the ballroom with such a character, we wouldn't have an unconsious body at our feet to begin with."
"I wouldn't have said that," a voice sing- songed. Charlie glanced at Sophie, quite having forgotten her friend was there. Sophie had moved off to the corner, giving them a measure of privacy. Her hazel eyes danced, meeting Charlie's gaze before she turned back around, keeping watch on the guests from the shadows.
"So it's my fault?" Charlie asked, giving Claymore her best scowl. How could he have been so charming earlier and such an arse now? "You men are unbelievable!"
"Um...Charlotte...?" Sophie's voice interrupted. It went ignored, however, Charlie's sole focus on the gentleman before her.
"You men?" Claymore sputtered, his jaw clenching on the words. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"
"Yes, you men," Charlie said. She stepped over Lord Simpton's leg, stalking to Claymore. She stopped mere inches from his person, each inhale bringing with it his wood-smoke and bergamot scent. "You men, acting as if we are chatel to be carted around at your whims. You men, blaming a female's fortunes-"
"Charlotte," Sophie interjected, "it seems as if-"
"-or our looks as your rights to...do things like this," Charlie whispered harshly, her voice drowning out Sophie's pleading tone, her hand motioning to Lord Simpton. "The duplicity, one moment a trustworthy friend or relative...or father, and in the next a vile person who sniffs about your skirts, demanding his pound of flesh. And others...others just...are just...gone..."
Charlie's voice broke on the last word, and she hated the sound. Detested it. Hated it even more when she craned her neck and took in Claymore's expression.
His face was blank, devoid of all life. Gone, was the flirtation of earlier. Gone, were the wry grins and amusement. Gone, was the protector who had fought so valiantly for her. All of it.
Gone.
Charlie hated that she had caused that. That life had made her this way.
"I see," Claymore said, stepping back on the heel of his boot. "a blazing condemnation of my gender, to be sure. Since I seem to have no purpose in your dealings, I believe I've overstayed my welcome."
The sorrow was a thorn in her skin. A scar.
"Pardon me, Charlie. My lord. But -"
"Oh for goodness sake's, Sophie," Charlie said, facing her friend fully, her split skirts wrapping around the calf of her leg. "What is it?"
Her friend's face cooled at Charlie's ire as she walked towards them. "I just thought you both should know that we are about to have company."
It was a pointed glare from her to Lord Simpton - Lud, was he still unconscious?- to Lord Claymore.
Sophie turned eyes to Charlie, her eyes sad. "Company you'd rather not have, truth be told."
That's when it truly hit her. Lord Simpton's words came back to haunt her. 'In fact, your uncle informed me I can go about getting your acquiesance in any way I wish.'
She heard her uncle's voice on the periphery, getting closer to the balcony.
Her uncle was to have found them.
The damning evidence would seal Charlie's fate. She took in her torn skirts, a hand going to her curls, half of which now had fallen from her topknot. Her bodice was stained with dirt and askew, her hand stained with Lord Simpton's blood. It would only appear worse with Lord Simpton at her feet, and Lord Claymore appearing as unkempt and bedridden as Charlie.
Her reputation would be in tatters, and her uncle would have gotten his wish.
Claymore was the first to move, taking charge. "Hide here," Claymore urged, his hand coming to Charlie's waist, pushing her gently towards the corner where only moments before, Lord Simpton had hovered above her, his hands rooting. Charlie shoved the thought away. Resisting Claymore's hold, her neck craned to look towards Simpton.
"What do you intend to do with him?"
"Leave it to me." He had Sophie's arm enclosed in his left hand, dragging her along. He pressed them both into the shadows, whispering, "I'll deal with anyone who comes out the balcony doors and then you can sneak back into the ballroom."
Sophie snorted. "After you have come into the ballroom, my lord? Wouldn't that negate your current actions? Instead of one women's ruination, you would have two!"
Claymore shot her a quelling glance. "I'll think of something else then! I'll come back with a signal for the all clear, and we'll think about our next course of action then." He headed away then halted, throwing over his shoulder. "Stay here."
Then he was running back across the balcony, his tailored jacket coat flapping behind him in the breeze. Charlie rather thought he looked a cloaked villain, secreting away evidence. Claymore grasped one ankle and pulled, dragging Lord Simpton's body to the far right side of the balcony. His muscles strained at the dead weight of the body, his boots scraping across the floor of the balcony. Charlie was glad that there seemed to be enough shadows so that no one would see Lord Simpton unless they knew where to look.
A tap on her shoulder had her head twisting. Sophie had her finger pressed to her lips, a request to keep her silence. She jerked her finger at the ivy covered trellis that descended from the balcony to the ground. Charlie had climbed the latticework many of times in her youth, but that had been ages ago. She could fall and break her neck.
Sophie must have sensed her hesitation, for she placed her hands in her armpits and flapped them like a child.
"You look dim witted. Stop that," Charlie whispered, doing her best not to smile. This was hardly the time for jokes.
"Come on," Sophie urged. "We can't stay here and wait for Lord Claymore, neither can we chance someone else coming upon us. It's too risky!"
Charlie sighed, knowing her friend spoke the truth.
Claymore's muffled voice came as someone stepped a foot onto the balcony. It was now or never.
Dragging her remnant of her gown in a shaking fist, Charlie descended the trellis. It was treacherous, indeed, having the full use of only one hand. She heard the wisp of her slipper as it fell from her foot into the grass.
"Damn," Charlie muttered, a trail of sweat dampening her brow. "I am a ninny."
Sophie choked on a laugh above her. "What gave it away, my dear?"
Charlie muffled a curse, which only made another choking sound come from above her. Finally, her remaining slippered heel found the crisp grass, dew forming on the tips to wet her foot. She breathed a sigh of relief when she had both feet firmly on the ground.
That was death defying.
Sophie jumped from above, landing like a cat upon her feet. She giggled, "That was rather fun."
Thinking of the Earl left to decide what to do with a spread-eagled Lord Simpton, Charlie found herself laughing.
Locating her slipper, Charlie placed it back on her foot and raced behind Sophie. She glanced back at the balcony, keeping to the wall of the manse in case anyone were to peer down. Charlie wished she could see Claymore's reaction when he returned only to find them missing.
Charlie was shocked to discover that, for a moment, she had forgotten to be scared or frightened, the attentions of Lord Simpton no more thought than an extra lump of sugar in her tea. Instead, her heart pounded, her breath gusted short and sharp in her chest. And a pair of stormy gray eyes made a strange fluttering take up residence in her lower body.
Charlie knew she possibly wouldn't see the Earl again, but she couldn't help feeling that fate had changed its course. That, perhaps, he was meant to find her in this place, at this moment.
And even, Charlie hoped, in her dreams.