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with her hands. “It’s not what you think. He . . .” She made a poor attempt at gathering herself together. She took a breath. And another. “I’m perfectly well, Charlie. Just prewedding jitters.”
    Charlie recalled the previous day, Lady Rose coming into the stable, grabbing the whiskey, taking a mouthful. Spitting it out. Rinsing her mouth. And today, that bastard unbuttoning . . .
    â€œI’ll kill him.”
    Her eyes flew wide. “No, Charlie. It was nothing. Nothing.”
    It was his time to close his eyes briefly, because he didn’t want her to see the violence coursing through him. He knew what that man had done to her. He couldn’t imagine someone forcing a girl to do what the duke had obviously done, someone as sweet and lovely. “I’m so sorry, my lady. So sorry that happened to you.” He wanted to draw her into his arms, but he couldn’t. He was the head groom, not her friend, not her anything. “You should tell your mother.”
    â€œThere is nothing to tell,” she said, her tone dead. “And if anything had happened, it wouldn’t matter. Don’t you see?” She lifted her chin. “Everyone is counting on me, on this marriage. I hardly think they’d care about anything as long as I was well enough to walk down the aisle.”
    Charlie started to take a step toward her, but stopped himself. “They’d care, my lady.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t have a choice.”
    It was on the tip of his tongue to beg her to go with him to America, but he remained silent, feeling nearly as helpless as she did. Run away with me. Marry me . Just having those thoughts created a wave of humiliation so strong he was staggered by it. Marrying the likes of him would only bring her more shame.
    Instead, he said, “Tell your mum, my lady. Show her your neck.”
    Her hand went to her neck, hiding the bruises from him, and her expression changed, grew hard. “I told you nothing happened and you are not to make presumptions. You are not to speak to a soul about this, do you hear me, Charlie? If you say a word, I’ll make certain you’re dismissed immediately.”
    Heat rushed to his cheeks. “I’m leaving in less than a fortnight, so I hardly think it would matter if you dismissed me, my lady.” He gave her a tight smile, as glad that she had put him in his place as he was hurt by her words.
    â€œYour promise, Charlie.”
    â€œI will not tell anyone. I promise.”

Chapter 4

    Many have done so, and having, with that view, been tempted to accord unwise indulgences and to overlook serious faults, they have found that, far from gaining the love of their servants, they have incurred their contempt.
    Â 
    â€”From The Ladies’ Book of Etiquette, and Manual of Politeness

    R ose walked back to the house, suddenly fiercely glad Charlie was leaving. How would she ever be able to look at him again without feeling mortified? He knew what had happened, had seen the duke unbuttoning his pants. It was humiliating. It didn’t matter that Charlie was angry with the duke. Why had she broken down like that, throwing herself into his arms? She wished with all her might that she’d just left the stable without saying a word.
    Charlie had been so kind, letting her water his shirt, letting her lean on his solid strength. All her life he’d been a quiet presence, someone who represented home as much as her own parents. Those long months she’d spent in finishing school had left her so homesick, just the smell of hay would make her smile and her eyes prick with unshed tears. Wrapped up in the scent of hay was all that was Charlie, who never complained or judged or did anything except make her laugh and teach her how to care for Moonshine. When she’d returned from finishing school and seen him, seen how he looked at her, all grown up, a lady in truth, part of her had felt a bit of