Page 60 of Charlotte's Kisses

“’Tis almost morning,” she said. “Hugh is in danger. We must help him.”

“Hugh Fletcher? In danger? I do not understand.” Papa groaned. “Damnation. Why can the man not find a way to get along with Curly and Stilts? They are not so bad.”

If they were the men who had attacked Hugh in the garden a few nights ago, they were imbeciles. However, this was not the time to confront her father for his poor taste in bootlickers, lovers, and second wives.

“They are not the issue.” Charlotte tugged on his arm. “Hurry. I will explain on the way.”

Papa stumbled out of bed. Charlotte helped him into his slippers and held up his banyan so that he could slide his arms into the sleeves. Once he was modestly attired, she ushered him into the hallway.

Charlotte immediately halted and gawked because Alexander stood at his chamber door, peering in the opposite direction. He slowly faced them, then winced. His disheveled hair stood in the air, and his shirt hung open, exposing bare skin.

“Fat-ther? Charlie? What are you doing up at this hour?” he asked as he fiddled with his buttons.

Half-dressed and sputtering? Without a doubt, her brother was up to something. Perhaps trying to sneak a woman out of his chamber? Maybe the lady from the masquerade who had him acting like he had been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin of late. Not that Charlotte cared in the least. He was a grown man with needs.

“Alex, please help us,” she said. “Hugh is in grave danger. Lady Chesterhill is holding him captive.”

Alexander rubbed at the stubble overtaking his jaw and mumbled, “That damnable woman.”

“Xander, my darling,” someone called.

Charlotte knew that chilling voice. Hatred surged through her.

Preparing to lambaste her stepmother, she abruptly turned. Instead, she gasped with delight, for Hugh was safe, and Lady Chesterhill was a prisoner in his arms.

“Hugh!” Charlotte cried. The pistol in his hand and the anger in his gaze kept her from dashing to him.

“Charlotte. Thank the good lord above.” He hoisted his prisoner onto her toes and quickened their pace.

“What in the deuce is going on?” Papa asked.

“My darling, Xander.” Her stepmother wriggled about, trying to break free from Hugh’s hold. “Please save me from this brute.”

Hugh’s countenance instantly shifted from delight to fury. Once they were close, he directed his glare at her father. “Chesterhill, you need to get your bloody wife under control.”

Suzannah reached for Papa. Instead of taking her into his arms, he bent forward and clasped his chest, gasping for air.

Alexander’s face paled. “He is having difficulty breathing.”

While the rest of them helplessly gawked, Hugh reacted swiftly. He handed the pistol to Charlotte and inclined his chin toward his prisoner. “Do not let her get away.” He swung his arm under Papa’s armpit. With his other hand, he shoved Alexander. “Move aside.”

Her brother briefly hesitated before helping to carry their father into the room.

Even amongst the chaos of an emergency, her stepmother had the gall to snarl at Charlotte. “What are you doing alive?”

Charlotte was much too worried about her father to respond, so she simply used the weapon to herd her stepmother into the room.

Her father sat on the bed, Hugh and Alexander leaning over him. A red-faced woman, gnawing on her lip, backed toward the door. Charlotte knew it. Her brother had a loverin his chamber, and the poor woman was currently fleeing the awkward scene.

It took her a moment to recognize Baron Coldpepper’s oldest daughter, Emily. No wonder The Coldpeppers had outstayed their welcome. Poor Emily must want to die of humiliation. Charlotte would seek out and console her another time. Presently, she was more concerned about her father and the evil woman perched on the bed beside him, caressing his forearm as she spewed diabolically sweet lies.

Papa held up his hand. “I am well. Would you all stop fawning over me?”

“My darling, Xander, I was terrified. Whatsoever would I do without you?”

“I hope not to disappoint you all, but I am not dying today,” he said.

Charlotte took little solace in his pronouncement since he had used the wordtoday. His skin was quite gray, and he had aged these last few weeks. The thought of losing him was too painful to endure. Therefore, she’d pretend he would live forever.