by Kira Stewart
“I am hoping in this case for the better, sir.”
Sir Harvey sighed again, before sitting down.
“As I said, I have been thinking long and hard about this, and I have come to the conclusion that perhaps you are being a little rash, my dear.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
The girl’s heart began to quicken—she knew what was coming next.
“Well, you hardly know this man, and he sounds as if he has no great prospects. He is obviously keeping something back from you—a man with a secret can rarely be trusted. And above it all, your parents are against him. Are you certain that he is worth all of this trouble?”
Charlotte could hardly believe her ears. It was not what she had expected to hear from the man.
“Forgive me, sir, but you sound like my mother. Can anyone explain why they love a certain person? I only know that I have loved this man since the very first time he danced with me. Although I have met him only a few times, I already know that he is a gentle and caring man. He loves literature and poetry, and despite being poor, he has a generous soul. And I know that he cares for me by his words and deeds. I do not know why he should care for me, but somehow he does.”
“But, my dear, love is well enough, but it will soon disappear when there is no food on the table.”
“Then that is something I have to find out for myself, sir.”
“So I cannot dissuade you from loving this man, even though it seems hopeless?”
“It may seem hopeless, sir, but Charles once told me that true love will find a way. I do not know when and where I shall see him again, but I will love him for the rest of my life.”
A noise from the fireplace disturbed the conversation, and looking around, Charlotte at first could not believe her eyes. There in the middle of the room, stood her beloved Charles.
“My dear, I am so glad to hear you say that. Otherwise, I would have had to spend all afternoon concealed on the couch.”
The poor girl could hardly speak.
“I am so sorry to surprise you this way, my dear, but it truly was the only way. Come and sit by the fire, and I will tell you all about it.”
Charlotte frowned and looked back at Sir Harvey, who now sported a magnificent grin.
“I am so glad that is all over, sir. I presume I can leave things with you now. Do excuse me. I will see you before you leave, Charlotte.”
With a small nod to Charles, he left the room.
“What on earth is going on? Why did Sir Harvey call you, sir?”
“Come and sit by me on the sofa, my dear Charlotte, and I will tell you the whole story.”
“Is your name really Charles Dewhurst?”
The man laughed.
“Come here, my love, it is a long story, but I need to start at the beginning.”
As if in a dream, the girl did as she was bid and sat next to him on the sofa. There was something very different about him—his clothes, his demeanor—and yet his blue eyes still looked at her in the same loving way, and she felt her heart miss a beat.
“My name is Charles Rochester. I apologize for the white lie I told you at the park, but I wanted to conceal my identity from you, just for a short while. I think that you had already guessed that it was a lie?”
“The monogram on your umbrella and handkerchief read C.R., and I guessed that you came up with the name from the stall called Dewhurst’s in Hyde Park. But why should you conceal your identity to me. Why was that necessary?”
“I will explain, my love. A few weeks ago, my mother’s fourth cousin died. He died without an heir, and I am his nearest living male relative.”
The girl looked puzzled.
“My distant cousin was the Duke of Norfolk.”
It took a few moments for his words to sink in, and they sat in silence as she took in the meaning of his words.
“So you are …”
“The new Duke of Norfolk. My investiture has just taken place in London. That is why I had to be away from you.”
“But why could not you tell me? Surly, you did not have to keep that a secret?”
Charles Rochester lowered his head, his voice a little softer.
“Forgive me, Charlotte, but I needed to know that you loved me for who I am, and not for my position or wealth. You see, several years ago, I was engaged to a young woman, before I went overseas to fight against Napoleon. When I came back disfigured, she did not want to know me. I must admit that for several years, I was heartbroken, but then I saw you. You were not like the other girls—silly and vain. I liked you from the first time we danced together at the Assembly Rooms. But I vowed I would not give my heart again, until I was sure of your feelings for me. I could not bear for my heart to be broken again. I wanted to be sure of your feelings for me, before you knew that I was a Duke. I hope that you can understand?
“When we first met, I did not know that my cousin was ill. When his condition became serious, I was asked to accompany him to London. The doctors did not know whether or not he would last a few days, or a few months.”
Charlotte was beginning to understand some of the story, but so much still puzzled her.
“But how is it that are you here today, with Sir Harvey? He asked for my hand in marriage, you know?”
Charles smiled.
“Forgive me again, Charlotte, but that again was part of my plan. Sir Harvey is a great and personal friend of mine, and one that I can trust. I needed to know if you really loved me, needed to test it out, and so I asked him to help me, to befriend you and find out how you really felt about me, even if I was only a poor soldier with no prospects.”
“So Sir Harvey never really wanted to marry me in the first place?”
“No, my dear, I am afraid it was all part of the plan. In fact, that was his idea. But that is all in the past now.”
Holding her hand, Charles Rochester slid down onto one knee in front of her.
“But I do want to marry you, my dear. Oh, dear, Charlotte, would you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife?”
Poor Charlotte’s head was in a whirl. She could hardly believe what was happening to her. In a matter of minutes, she had gone from no hope at all, to a proposition of marriage.
Sir Harvey had indeed played his part well.
“I am speechless, sir. You have me believe that you are a poor soldier. You lie to me about your name, and engage a friend to test my feelings for you. I have cried myself to sleep so many times over the last few weeks, and have displeased my parents. And now you ask me to marry you?”
The poor Duke looked sheepish.
“I apologize, Charlotte. Please, forgive me. I could not bear giving my heart, only for it to be rejected once again. I will make up for everything, I promise. Please, say you will be mine?”
“Oh, my love, I am teasing you. Of course, I forgive you, and of course, I will marry you. You have made me the happiest girl alive.”
More tears ran down the girl’s face, but this time, they were tears of joy.
“How about we toast that?”
Sir Harvey entered the room, carrying a large silver salver topped with a bottle of champagne and three glasses.
As he set it down, Charlotte ran and hugged the man.
“I should be cross with you, Sir Harvey, but how can I be? All that talk of marriage, and you were testing me all of the time. There is one thing you haven’t thought of though/ Who is going to tell mother?”
The three raised their glasses as they drank the sparkling wine.
“To you, my dears. May you both have a long and happy life together. Now, let us get into my carriage and make haste to Bath. We have some important news to tell Mrs. Thompson.”
Epilogue
Mrs. Thompson was indeed shocked, when Sir Harvey, Charlotte, and the new Duke of Norfolk, turned up on her doorstep. The news at first shocked, and then delighted her. Suddenly, Charles Rochester was the man of the moment, and for a brief spell, Sir Harvey Lloyd was almost forgotten, but he di
d not mind one little bit. He was happy for the young couple, and in time, would become godfather to their children, filling his house with cheer and happiness once again.
The wedding was a grand occasion, and took place in a fine cathedral in London, befitting of a Duke and Duchess.
Taking pride of place at the festivities, was Henrietta and Thomas Langton, a perfect template for marriage as there ever could be.
Among the guests were Edward and Annabelle Lennox, the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough. The couple smiled at each other, as Charlotte and Charles took their vows. Their love, too, had trodden a difficult path, but it had led to true love and happiness in the end, and the couple wished the same for the newlyweds. When Charles had been broken-hearted and at his lowest point, it had been Lady Annabelle who had kept up his spirits, and had promised him that true love would find a way in the end.
Most of the nobility of the country had attended the fine society wedding. Isobel and Jack Parnell, the Duke and Duchess of Leicester, sat in the front pews of the great cathedral. The service reminded them of their great love, and how they, too, had almost lost each other, and how lucky they were to find each other again.
Everyone agreed how radiant the bride looked. Charlotte Thompson, soon to be Lady Rochester, the Duchess of Norfolk, had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. It was as if finding true love had put the finishing touches to her womanhood.
She wore a gown of white silk, and where once that color would have drained the very color from her face, she now radiated beauty, her face glowing, as she walked down the aisle, accompanied by her proud father.
Mrs. Thompson, wearing an outfit of yellow silk, cried throughout the service, as if not quite believing that her daughter was to become a Duchess.
As Charlotte approached the altar, she thought Charles Rochester looked the most handsome man she had ever seen. His blue eyes shone with love, as Mr. Thompson handed his daughter to him in marriage.
“I told you that there would be a happy ending to our story, my love, although, this is not really the end, it is just the beginning of our wonderful life together.”
Charles Rochester lowered his head, and his lips found hers for their first kiss, as husband and wife.
It was the perfect happily ever after.
***
Want more clean regency romance?
Please check out the first installment in this series…Better than a Duke, if you missed it! Thank you!
