Page 47 of Always the Chaperone
“As you have probably guessed, there is a weakness for alcohol in my family, and so my brother and I vowed we would never touch the stuff.”
“And yet, you did. Once.”
She laughed and finally met his gaze. “Yes, three months ago. Richard had a misunderstanding with Tabitha. When he believed he had lost her, he consumed a fair bit of whiskey. When I discovered him here in this very study, I took it upon myself to remove immediate temptation from him.” She laughed again. “I drank two whole glasses to prevent him from doing so. I must say, I do not see the attraction of a liquid that burns your throat and stomach.”
He snorted at the thought of Charlotte tipping her head back and draining the glasses. “I cannot imagine it!”
William saw her shoulders relax. It was wonderful, sitting here, laughing together—as if this was their home.
William swallowed. As Charlotte laughed, part of her dressing gown had become undone, and he had a rather fetching view of the curve of her breast. The view was doing rather uncomfortable things to parts of his body.
“Thank goodness they reconciled,” Charlotte said. “I may have developed a serious problem!”
At these words, her laughter subsided, and sadness washed across her features.
“What are you thinking?”
“It is nothing,” she said hastily.
“Now, do not do that with me.” William raised his glass to his lips, took a sip, and lowered it to his lap. “I think you and I have shared too much to be false with each other. Talk to me. What took you from happiness to misery in a few seconds?”
Charlotte’s eyes met his, and there was such intensity William fell silent.
“It is foolish,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Nothing you feel is ever foolish.”
She smiled weakly. “You are a very charming man, aren’t you, William?”
For the first time, he knew what it was to care more for another than himself. “Only with you. Everything I say to you is the truth, I swear it.”
They looked at each other in silence.
“It is not much of a secret, after all,” she said quietly. “I am sure there are plenty of ladies who feel this way. It is…well, my brother Richard and I were always so close. Close in age, close in temperament. He had vowed never to marry—yes, that is another story—and it was clear there would be few suitors knocking at the door for my hand. I thought he and I would grow old together, prepare Stonehaven Lacey for another family.”
Charlotte looked at her hands twisted together in her lap.
“Then?” William prompted.
“Then he met Tabitha. Do not misunderstand me, they are perfect for each other. I never thought I would meet a match for my brother, and when he did, I realized how selfish I was. I wanted him to be happy, but I also wanted him to be happy with me. He is married now, and they have gone to Stonehaven Lacey to prepare for their own family, and I…”
William watched her, saw the way she delicately chose her words, how she hesitated, made sure each sentence did not betray her feelings too deeply. But she did not need to. He could see the pain in her, the disappointment, and the shame she felt.
“It was easier to come to Bath,” Charlotte said finally. “I was made welcome at Stonehaven Lacey, but it is their home. They did not need a third person there.”
She finished in obvious embarrassment. He could not take his eyes from her. She felt things so deeply, rarely sharing those thoughts. The way she was speaking, he guessed she had never shared these particular thoughts, this specific pain.
“I never had to think about such things,” he said quietly, “and in some ways, I think it is a blessing. I was not raised to this sort of life, and I do not fit into the nobility the way you do. Born to it. Raised to it.”
She snorted and shook her head. “William, you are the Duke of Mercia.”
“Madness, isn’t it? No, honestly, Charlotte, you cannot imagine in turn what it is like to grow up a normal lad in a middling family, work hard all your life, and then be told by letter, you have a title waiting for you.”
She leaned forward. “How could you have a title waiting for you? I must admit, I have been curious for a while. Wasn’t your father…”
“You said so yourself, you and your brother were preparing Stonehaven Lacey for another family,” he pointed out. “And it happens, does it not? The male line ends in one branch of the family, and another rises to take its place. My mother was cast off for marrying a solider. She never spoke of her family. We just thought they were against the old war, hated the army, you know. It was not until we received the news that my uncle, her brother, had died that we realized what a life my mother had left behind. All for love.”
William hoped his hint at love would provoke a response.
