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gaze pausing on each of them. “Do I make myself clear?”

Edward pushed back from the table and stood, throwing his napkin on his plate. “I believe I'll have dinner at my club after all. Good evening.” He left without a backward glance.

Charlotte rose as well, hoping her mother would follow suit. “I seem to have lost my appetite. Goodnight.” She quit the room but couldn't resist one last look at her mother through the crack in the door. To her surprise, her mother slowly stood. Charlotte couldn’t tear her eyes from the drama playing out before her.

“Since you can't find it within yourself to be kind and have now gone so far as to drive away our children, I will leave you in peace. Perhaps you'll find your own company preferable to your family’s.”

“Sit down.” Her father's angry tone had Charlotte stiffening in fear.

“No,” her mother said and turned toward the door.

Charlotte hurried toward the stairs, not wishing to be caught eavesdropping.

Her mother had never spoken that way to her father. What did all of this mean? Though she wished he would see the error of his ways and realize how unpleasant his behavior was, she didn't think that was possible.

Her comments about James had been lost under the turmoil of the conversation. She hadn’t done any good and instead had possibly caused great harm. Now she feared her father would be even more unreasonable if that were possible. What a disaster she thought as she slumped against the closed door of her bedchamber.

~*~

James visited three different gaming hells before he found Edward. It only took one look at his friend to realize something was amiss. From the stiff way he held himself to the glares he cast at his opponents across the card table, it was clear that he wasn’t in a pleasant frame of mind.

“Damn,” James muttered under his breath before he approached. He’d hoped to have a civil conversation rather than an argument. But from Edward’s hardened expression, he appeared ready to fight anyone who looked at him wrong.

“I thought you said you would be at Madame Gaston's this evening,” James said as he stood beside his chair.

“My evening has not gone according to plan.”

“Should I ask why?”

“Dinner with my family. Actually, I only made it through the first course before leaving.”

When he didn't say anything more, James grew worried. Had Charlotte said something? Was she well?

He held tight to his patience as Edward played his hand of cards so they could talk privately.

At last, Edward won the game and threw down his cards. “Care to play?” he asked James.

“Not given your present mood.”

Edward’s wolfish grin was more of a snarl.

“Why don’t you pause and tell me about dinner?”

Edward pushed back from the table and nodded at the rest of the players. “If you'll excuse me.”

“You leave us no chance to win back our funds,” one of the players protested.

“Do not worry,” James reassured them. “No doubt he will return soon.”

He followed Edward out of the card room and into the bar.

“How did a family dinner put you in such poor spirits?” James asked with as much patience as possible after Edward ordered a drink.

James fought the urge to grasp the lapels of his suit coat and give him a good shake until he told him what had happened. Worry for Charlotte made it difficult to think.

“My father is being impossible as usual.”

“His gout returned?” James knew Lord Wynn’s irritability more than doubled when he was experiencing a flare of the painful disease, something that seemed to happen often.

“If only that were the reason for his poor behavior.” Edward ran a hand over his face then met James’ gaze, worry in the depths of his eyes. “Am I destined to be similar to him? Unwilling to listen to anyone’s opinion other than my own. So difficult that my family avoids me at all costs.”

“No.” James knew that much for certain. Edward was nothing like his father. While at times his friend could be difficult, most of those circumstances stemmed from something his father had done or said. “You are reasonable, respectful of others, and considerate. I'm sorry to say I don't think your father is any of those things.”

Edward scoffed. “That mirrors the conversation from dinner.”

“Oh?” Now they were getting somewhere.

“Charlotte mentioned you.”

“She did?” A wild tangle of hope and fear lodged in his chest.

“She kept going on about how kind you are.”

“Kind?” Why had she said that? He held onto his patience, hoping Edward would continue.

“Needless to say, father thought the conversation ridiculous as he insists kindness has no bearing on a good marriage.”

James was growing more puzzled by the moment. Good heavens, what else had Charlotte said?

As if realizing he made no sense, Edward waved a hand in the air. “She raised the subject of Lord Samuelson and how she thought you were much kinder than him. I have no idea what she was thinking.”

I do. But he kept the thought to himself and waited until Edward met his gaze. “You see, she and I have come to know each other rather well in recent weeks and found that we care for each other very much.”

Edward stiffened as his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? You've been going behind my back to see my sister?”

“No. Well, yes. But not in the way that sounds.”

“You bastard. How dare you!” His fist clenched, suggesting he’d like to plow it into James’ face.

“I have the greatest respect for her. And you,” he added hastily when Edward’s mouth twisted.

“You’ve always said she is like a sister to you.”

James nodded, deciding no purpose would be served in denying that. “She was. But that has shifted into something more. So much more.”

“To think I trusted you. If you ruined her—”

“No.” James held up his hand to halt Edward before he called him out. “Nothing of the sort.” Though that was a matter of debate, given how often they’d been alone together. But considering the fact that he’d accompanied her

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