CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FIVE – ALMOST CAUGHT

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the frantic rhythm of Charlotte's heart. Tonight's meeting with Richard was a gamble, a stolen hour snatched from a precarious existence. The storm, a rare occurrence during the summer months, had provided an unexpected opportunity – most of the household would be tucked away in their rooms, offering a temporary reprieve from the watchful eyes of the servants. Richard appeared at the prearranged meeting spot, a rickety wooden bridge nestled deep within the estate's arboretum, cloaked in a dark, rain-drenched cloak. His face, illuminated by a single flickering lantern, was etched with concern. "Charlotte," he breathed, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Thank heavens you made it. The storm almost convinced me to postpone." Charlotte clung to him, the warmth of his body a reassuring presence amidst the howling wind and relentless rain. "I wouldn't miss it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm's fury. They huddled under the