The Beloved One by Danelle Harmon Page A

had to marry had I not uh, got Juliet into trouble."
    " Had to marry?  Do you mean you got someone else in trouble as well?" Amy asked, her mouth agape.
    "Good God, no!"  And then, incredulously: "What sort of man do you think I am, anyhow?"
    She went crimson.  "I — I didn't mean it the way it sounded . . . but if you did get someone else in trouble, I wouldn't hold it against you, or like you any less —"
    "I did not get anyone else in trouble, I can assure you."  His lips were twitching, as though he found this whole discussion both ludicrous and amusing.  "But as a second son, raised to take over as duke should anything happen to Lucien, I have certain responsibilities toward my family.  One of these was that I marry Lady Katharine Farnsley, whose father's lands border our own.  We were promised since birth, and a union between the de Montfortes and the Farnsleys would have been quite advantageous.  But Boston is a lonely place for a man who's far from home.  And Juliet — " he smiled, affectionately — "Juliet's a very pretty young woman.  Shunning the destiny that was planned for me, and betrothing myself to a Yankee instead, was about the most rebellious thing I have ever done in my life — and I imagine it will not sit well at home when Lucien learns of it."
    "What difference does it make what Lucien thinks?" Amy asked, confused.  "Shouldn't you marry whoever you please?"
    "I am not one to disappoint my family, or their expectations of me."
    "Won't Lucien get to marry whom he pleases?"
    "I doubt that Lucien is inclined to marry at all.  He has yet to find a woman who is his equal."  He bent his head and absently stirred the broth, his spoon clinking softly against the bowl.  "I was never happy about the idea of marrying Katharine, anyhow.  She is heavily dowered, yes — but that asset is outweighed by the fact that she is also a shrew, and I must confess that I'd as soon wed her as I would one of your equally awful sisters."
    "Lord Charles!"
    He merely raised a brow, amused.  "Yes?"
    Amy couldn't help her little giggle.  Charles grinned in return.  And then he seemed to sober a bit as he tore off a bit of bread and went back to his meal.  "Tell me, Amy, what do your neighbors think about the idea that your father is harboring a redcoat?"
    "They don't know, and I don't think he plans to tell them."
    He looked up in sudden alarm.  "Oh, no.  This will not do.  He must tell them."
    "I think he means to let everyone go on believing you're Adam Smith from Woburn, and as soon as it's convenient, have Will bring you back to Boston with no one the wiser.  Sylvanus means well, truly he does, but I doubt he's aware of the consequences of keeping silent where you're concerned."
    "Then I must convince him otherwise.  By allowing them to think I'm someone I'm not, he is not only putting himself, but his family in danger.  What will his trusting flock think if they were to learn from anyone but your father that he, their minister, has been deceiving them all along?"  He shook his head.  "Far better, I think, that he tells them who I am immediately."
    He went back to eating his broth.
    "But — but Lord Charles —"
    "Yes?"
    "Aren't you worried about what the townspeople might do to you ?"
    "No."  He gave a bitter, humorless smile.  "Besides, my dear friend — what can they do to me that I have not already done to myself?"
     
     

 
    Chapter 7
     
    The week that followed was not easy for anyone.
    Lord Charles was not in a good mood.  Between his persistent headache, worry over Juliet, and impatience with his condition, he soon fell into a black depression.  Will slunk past him like a puppy afraid of a beating.  Ophelia and Mildred fled the room in tears when their persistent efforts to gain his attention yielded them a verbal mauling that no one but a British aristocrat could've given so well.  Sylvanus's attempts to give Biblical solace were rebuffed, and even Crystal the dog avoided the