"Meet me in the garden," the note read, penned with a flourish that could only belong to Liam.
Charlotte's heart skipped a beat as she crumpled the paper in her fist.
An invitation from Liam to the garden, of all places, and during his engagement party with Chloe? Preposterous.
It screamed of a trap, and Charlotte was no fool to walk blindly into it.
She flushed the note down the toilet, her mind racing back to Thomas's side.
Taking a corner, she caught a glimpse of Liam, a solitary figure heading toward the garden.
Doubt nibbled at her resolve.
The party was about to begin; what urgent matter could he possibly have there alone?
Could the note have actually been from him?
Returning to her seat, she leaned toward Thomas and whispered a contingency plan, "Someone slipped me a note to meet in the garden. If I'm not back soon, come looking for me." With Thomas's nod, she took a deep breath and made her way quickly to the garden.
Her haste blinded her to Patricia's smirk across the table.
Patricia, the architect of this cruel game, had sent notes to both Liam and Charlotte, but not to kindle romance.
No, what awaited Charlotte in the garden was a setup involving a drunken ruffian, staged for Liam's unfortunate discovery.
Patricia's smile widened as she anticipated the scandal that would unfold.
After last night's downpour, the garden was a treacherous tapestry of mud and slick grass.
Charlotte moved cautiously, yet nothing could have prepared her for the child who dashed laughing into her path, sending her sprawling into the muddy embrace of the flowerbeds. Covered in the earth's sticky grasp, her vision obscured by splatters, her dress ruined.
"The kid doesn't know any better, I'm sorry." A maid arrived late, picked up the child, and apologized formally. Then, she called over another tall and sturdy maid. "Take Miss Perry to change her clothes." The tone of the maid's voice confirmed Charlotte's suspicions - it was indeed a trap.
She envisioned the next act: a strange man barging in during her change of clothes, his intentions turning unsavory, their struggle coincidentally witnessed by a passing Liam...
Steadying herself, Charlotte exhaled softly.
"Thomas Beaumont will come looking if I'm delayed, and besides..." She tilted her head, eyeing the servant, "Subduing me won't be as easy as you think."
She might not win in a brawl, but Charlotte was certain she could outmaneuver them.
The game was afoot, and she wasn't one to fold so easily.
Despite her expectations, the maid spoke with a casual air, "Ease your mind, dear, we're not the cutthroats you imagine, we mean you no harm."
Her words took a sudden sharp turn, "I've heard tales of Miss Perry's prowess in a scuffle, but surely you know that even the sharpest hawk can be overwhelmed by a swarm of doves." As her voice trailed off, a symphony of footsteps surrounded them, indicating a crowd was drawing near.
Charlotte managed a wry smile in resignation, "Very well, then."
She followed the maid, compliant as a lamb, to a room near the garden to change her attire.
Before leaving her, the maid offered a peculiar piece of advice, "Wipe that pretty face clean, darling; a beauty like yours shouldn't be hidden."
Charlotte found it all exceedingly strange but couldn't quite put her finger on why, though events were unfolding just as she'd predicted.
Was the intrusion of a mysterious man next on the agenda?
After cleaning her face, she forwent changing her dress, opting instead for a sturdy clothes hanger as her weapon of choice, her gaze fixed on the door with hawk-like vigilance. Should anyone dare enter, she'd strike without a moment's hesitation...
The door creaked open, revealing the heavy tread of a man's approach.
Charlotte, fierce as a cornered fox, gripped the hanger, ready to deliver a deadly chokehold!
But her wrist was caught in an iron grip, and she was pinned against the door without a chance for protest!
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"What madness has taken you?" A voice, cool as a winter stream and tinged with anger, snapped her out of her battle trance.
"How can it be you?" she uttered in disbelief, her gaze locked on Liam, who released her, stepping back as she slid down the door to the floor.
Liam towered over her, his gaze piercing as he took in her disheveled appearance, her pale face framed by tear-stained lashes, and her trembling hand clutching the hanger like a wounded fawn.
His voice, hoarse with emotion, questioned, "Didn't you send me a note begging me to come here?"
"I..." Charlotte was momentarily at a loss for words, the situation almost comical in its absurdity.
She'd braced herself for a conspiracy, yet here they were, brought together by a bizarre twist of fate. The maid's assurance 'we mean you no harm' had seemed a cruel joke at the time, but now it rang with truth. The mastermind behind the scenes must have orchestrated this encounter to sabotage the engagement party tonight.
But then...
As she looked at Liam, confusion swirled within her.
Why was Liam so obedient?
Did he not despise her?
At a loss for words, she simply inched closer, slipping her icy hand into his burning palm.
"You called me here just to warm your hands?" Liam's voice was a deep, raspy whisper.
Her eyes moistened, "That's all I needed."
She dared not move closer, aware that whoever had maneuvered this wasn't aiming to play matchmaker for her and Liam.
She just needed to ensure Liam stayed put, missing the engagement and thus spoiling it.
A breeze swayed the window curtains, rustling the flowers outside, their scent wafting into the room.
As Liam's grasp heated her hand, Charlotte noticed he was holding on too tightly, unwilling to let go. holds this content.
She looked up, "Mr. Parker..."
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"Do you even know I got engaged today?" Liam looked at her intently, trying to stay cool but couldn't hide his urgency. "Why did you trick me into coming here? What's your real plan?"
"I know," Charlotte shot back. "But does why I did it really matter?"
From the moment she chose to risk everything for him, despite knowing it was a trap, her intentions were as clear as day.
Liam held her gaze for a heavy moment, his chest rising and falling with suppressed emotion, before he turned to sit and contemplate the swaying flowers outside the window.
Charlotte joined him, and together they sat amidst the heady floral scent, wrapped in a silence heavy with unspoken words.
The appointed hour of the engagement arrived, and outside, the servants' search for Liam grew frantic.
Yet he seemed deaf to the commotion, his back a rigid line, his eyes fixed on the flowers beyond the glass.
What thoughts raced through his mind in these moments? Charlotte couldn't guess, and she didn't dare ask; only her pounding heart betrayed her inner turmoil.
A stray stem lay on the floor, likely a remnant from the garden's latest pruning.
Charlotte picked it up and, with a few simple twists, fashioned a rough ring.
She slipped the crude grass circle onto her finger.
Her pale fingers made the grass ring look like nothing special, but to Charlotte, it was priceless.
Just a few days ago, she made a similar grass ring for Liam and put it on his wrist herself.
Wearing a grass ring just like the one he had on his engagement day - that's probably the last bit of comfort she could get.
The time for the scheduled event was getting close, and the servants were getting more frantic in their search.
It wouldn't be long before they found this place.
Charlotte took a deep breath.
Most of the servants outside were from the Beaumont family, and if they saw her with Liam during his engagement party, it could spell trouble for him. She was about to leave first but got distracted by a sudden burst of flames outside.
"It's on fire! The venue's on fire!" The servants searching for people stopped at the edge of the garden, and called to help put out the fire at the event.