Charlotte

by Virginia Taylor

  Instead, he tethered the horse outside the old chandler’s shop and stood under the shelter, watching the locals scuttle to various locations out of the rain. The stream of people ceased as, with an angry clap of thunder, the clouds burst, flooding the road with quick flowing rivulets. Thunder rumbled irritably and lightning peaked in the distance.

  Across the road stood the town hall, a barnlike structure built of redbrick and native stone, with double wooden front doors and a tin sheltered side access. A face, Luke’s, peered up out of the side door possibly to check the weather and disappeared again. Interested to see what dealings Luke might have in the local chambers, Nick leaned back against the wall of the shop waiting for the rain to stop, as Luke apparently was.

  The rain ceased as fast as it had begun, the sky showing a clear blue, as if blown in for a fete. Luke again opened the door, and as Nick uncrossed his legs, he noticed a lady’s blue skirt appear followed by the lady, Charlotte, beautifully dressed with one of her pretty little hats highlighting her perfect features. His joy at this glimpse of her astounded him. She looked even lovelier, standing in the shelter, than she had yesterday, although yesterday that would have seemed an impossible task. Charlotte’s beauty comprised more than her perfect features. Her character showed on her face, her humor and her innate thoughtfulness. As a match for Nick, he was very much outclassed.

  He straightened from the wall where he leaned, preparing to go to her when Luke reached out and circled one arm around her. She touched a palm against his chest, and he raised her face to his with a finger beneath her chin.

  Nick’s self-absorbed world shattered.

  The couple didn’t kiss, barely touched, yet tenderness never seen before showed clearly on Luke’s face. Charlotte, as usual, disguised her expression, but not well enough. She held his gaze just a moment too long, and she lingered within his embrace.

  If they kissed in public, Nick would knock Luke sideways. For a moment, trying to bundle his confused emotions, he stared at the toes of his boots. When, his face frozen, he glanced up again, Luke was hurrying Charlotte along the side path to the street where his tethered gig, not noticed previously by Nick, awaited.

  Icy cold, Nick stayed out of sight, barely breathing. Five days ago he had shown Charlotte how much he desired her, and for days he had agonized over his commitment to the future. Now he didn’t know if he had a future with her, nor even a present. Insanely, not long ago, he told her he would countenance being the father of another man’s child. Not Luke’s. Never Luke’s. Luke would insist on keeping his own.

  For a single moment, Nick experienced the first violent urge of his blighted life. Without a doubt, he could beat Luke senseless. He gave a savage laugh, staring after the gig as the couple drove away. Neither had spotted Nick who untied the bay’s reins and lurched into his wet saddle, retribution the only thought in his head. Just as he had decided to be the man he ought to be and settle into married life, Luke made good his promise to serve Nick a backhanded turn and had stolen Nick’s wife.

  Not for one moment had he credited Luke’s threat. He had known Luke for more than twenty years and knew Luke was only talk, without a mean bone in his body, or so he had thought.

  Although the day had not cooled with the rain, an icy fear passed down Nick’s spine. He slowed his horse to a walk and finally noticed his dog loping behind, tongue out, exhausted by trying to keep up. The faithful hound was ready to do as Nick pleased, which Nick expected of everyone. He snapped his fingers indicating to the dog that he could spring up on the saddle in front, which the dog did with a burst of delighted energy.

  Nick stopped the horse and sat, the dog’s soft ears in his hand. The dog tried to lick his fingers. “Damn! No, not you. Me. I did this, not Luke.”

  No, Luke had held back, but his very restraint showed how much he wanted Charlotte. He had said so, but Nick didn’t believe his friend had been more than infatuated with a beautiful woman who would infuriate him with her superficiality when he knew her better.

  Nick’s head ached with regret. Charlotte didn’t have a shallow bone in her glorious body, yet Nick had continued to misjudge her, deciding to think little of a woman who had offered to protect him in exchange for a home and an income. Charlotte was no lying sneak who had crept off to be with her lover in the country. She’d married Nick for exactly the reasons she’d said, likely realizing that she was not a suitable wife for a man with Luke’s rigid standards of respectable breeding. However, if Luke hadn’t found out about Charlotte’s birth until after he had married her, he would have had no trouble in hiding the truth, as Nick had, with Tony’s cooperation.

  Luke was the man for her, steadfast and strong. Only the Lord knew what Nick would have done without his and Tony’s support after Clara had died. They’d not only arranged the funeral, they’d stayed with Nick during his days of darkest despair. They’d waited out his grief and borne his drunken escapades, forgiving him his many weaknesses and his excesses. And to repay Luke, Nick had taken the woman Luke loved, not out of spite but because he was a fuddled drunk. Inexcusable!

  He reined his horse into a slow walk, knowing that vengeance wasn’t his. Retribution was, and to his wife. Until the party where Sarah would be presented, Charlotte would need to put her relationship with Luke on hold. Then, if she couldn’t stop loving him and Luke was willing to bear the scandal, Nick would let go.

  In the meantime, he’d take his chance at redemption.

  Chapter 18

  Stiff with humiliation, Charlotte watched the passing scenery through the window while the brougham jolted downhill. Even now, she didn’t know what she’d done or why Nick had collected her from the Hawthorns’ country house an hour ago.

  I’m taking my wife home, he’d said to Nell, and Nell hadn’t argued. Even she’d recognized his uncompromising expression.

  The tall, thin trunks of the gum trees and the scant undergrowth slowly shifted past. Desperate not to be crushed, Charlotte cleared her throat. “I assume we haven’t had some sort of family tragedy? You would surely say so before now.”

  Nick sat in his heavily weighted silence, his long legs outstretched and his face resigned. He examined one palm for a very long time until he spoke. “I didn’t guess,” he said without looking at her. “I saw.”

  “Saw what?”

  “You and Luke. He’s in love with you.”

  She stared at him. “What do you mean, you saw us? Where?”

  He raised his head. His thick lashed glance flickered. “Coming out of the town hall this morning.”

  “We were looking for my fan, the one painted with cornflowers that I mislaid somewhere last night.” Noting the closed expression on Nick’s face, she drew an extra breath. “I use it quite often. Luke offered to see if I’d left it in the town hall, but I wanted a trip to the village, regardless, to buy a toy for Charles Nicholas.”

  She paused, unsure of her ground, wondering what he had seen that caused him a problem. Outside the town hall, Luke had complimented her on wearing a real hat and not a box on her head, and she had taken his teasing in the same spirit. They had returned to the Hawthorns’. Nothing more except… When Luke had taken her outside the hall, his eyes held a strange gleam, and he had laughed and tipped her chin with his finger. If he had done that because he noticed Nick, she didn’t care. “She doesn’t like to leave Charles with his nursemaid unless she has to,” she said, straightening her spine.

  “Luke is the most conventional of my friends. Are you contemplating cuckolding me with him or have you already done so?”

  She gasped.

  He inclined his head to one side. “I may be mistaken, but I don’t think you’ve done the deed yet. Although you’re possibly a better actress than I suspect, you don’t appear to be secretly elated.”

  “A reaction you would naturally expect in an unfaithful wife.” Her lips pressed together.

  He nodded. “One I would recognize. Also, I’m quite sure that if Luke
had fucked you, he would honorably insist on telling me.”

  “Surely not. Such a thing would be foolhardy.”

  “Noble,” he contradicted, “and up to the standard Luke expects of himself. He wouldn’t marry a bastard for instance.” He scrutinized her face.

  She stilled, pounded by the pulse in her neck. He couldn’t know about her. “He is certainly the most conventional of your friends,” she said, controlling her panic.

  “He’s not a match for you. Surely you can see that? You must know that if you continue to fascinate him, letting him be your knight in shining armor, you will ruin his life as mine was ruined with, of course, my wholehearted complicity.”

  “So, you’re saving him from me rather than saving me from him?” She forced each word to sound cool and calm, using only a pitch lower than usual.

  “You seemed to have proved quite adequate in saving yourself.”

  She nodded, pride wrapping her in an invisible shield. “In my world that has been important. The lack of money makes us all beggars of a sort. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Perhaps it’s time you put others ahead of yourself,” he said, his voice hard.

  His harsh assessment rang in her ears, and she sucked in a breath. He was right, but not about Luke being in love with her. Luke had been her constant escort for the past few days in a misguided effort to show Nick that he might lose a woman he didn’t value. Instead, Nick was more worried about losing his friend to a misbegotten deceiver who had done little more than act out her jealousy and, in his view, finally fake an affair in a bid to make her husband notice her, neither action considering anyone but herself.

  She faced his contempt for her ridiculous behavior in letting him think she cared for anyone but him. “You can’t believe I had an affair with Luke. He would be mortified when he has only ever been your good friend.”

  “I’m tired of all this, Charlotte. Coming from a position of imperfection myself as I do, I can hardly cast aspersions. I want you out of Luke’s life, forthwith.”

  “It’s not possible,” she said, squeezing her fingers together. “We will see him everywhere.”

  “You will not see him alone, anywhere.”

  “Please take my word that nothing of a physical nature has ever passed between us.”

  “Just what is his attraction?” he said in a tone of pure irritation.

  “He was your friend before he was mine.” She rocked forward, desperate to heal the breach she had caused between the two men. “You already know his character. He wouldn’t steal the wife of another man.”

  “As I did?” His mouth twisted cynically, and he crossed his arms. “The thought is worthy of the deed and it’s done. We will now discuss your new priorities as my wife. First, you will wear your wedding ring.” His eyes shimmered. “It was pointless not to when in our circles, everyone knows you are married.”

  She blinked. “My wedding ring doesn’t fit.”

  “You’ve had months to get it resized. Instead, you chose not to wear it.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “I will have that attended to as soon as possible.”

  He stared at her for some seconds. “I also want to live as my married friends do, entertaining at home on occasion. How can you expect to launch Sarah when all we do is flitter about everywhere?”

  “I’ll attend to that matter, too,” she said, her head throbbing. “But I’m puzzled. Before you married me, you told me quite clearly that I wasn’t to change your lifestyle. Are you sure you want me to organize the running of your home?”

  “I want you fully occupied, sweetheart,” he answered grimly. “Because your reputation and Sarah’s success depends solely on how you handle yourself from now on. You don’t have a respectable background to support you.”

  “How so?” She didn’t look at him. The carriage trundled along, taking her to a respected home in which she could never have belonged without compromising Nick.

  “Your birth certificate gives you two married parents. Their wedding certificate is more interesting. You were fathered by a septuagenarian who married your mother a week or two before your birth.”

  “And who can cast aspersions?”

  He shrugged.

  A small amount of elation diluted Charlotte’s fear. Challenging his perception of her legitimacy had been frightening but her only option, and she seemed to have silenced him for now. He could not profit by ruining her, and so she couldn’t allow his unspoken threat. “Why would you investigate me?”

  “You’re a mystery, my love. I wouldn’t be the first to wonder who you really are, given that you say so little about your antecedents.”

  “Sarah shouldn’t suffer over this silliness, too,” she said, her voice forced. “Her birth is certainly respectable.”

  “I don’t mean her to suffer, and I hope you don’t either. And she certainly will if you continue to dazzle Luke.” He reached across the carriage and touched her clasped hands. “I’ll agree that you haven’t tempted him to forget his morals if you’ll agree to behave circumspectly around him. Let him think you love me. Trust me, this is for the best.” He leaned back, an expression of sympathy momentarily visible on his face.

  Her eyes prickled. She wanted to despise him for his misplaced understanding. She couldn’t love Luke. Months ago, she had given her heart to a man who justified his affairs by his determination not to impregnate his wife, who tempered his indifference with kindness and his cynicism with hope. She loved him and only him.

  She could only pray he would never expose her birth, for if he did, he would ruin Sarah, too, and he seemed not to want that. How strange that the day had finally come when Charlotte’s wellbeing depended on her cousin when the reverse had been the pattern throughout so many years. Perhaps now she would have a chance to see life through Sarah’s eyes and finally understand why she had a need to be so competitive.

  “My father plans to stay in Stirling for the summer.” Nick reverted to his former lounging position with his legs outstretched. “Since Sarah won’t be back until the rest of them leave next week, we have the town house to ourselves for a while. That should give you time to see sense.”

  She, the woman who had lived her whole life with sense and decorum until very recently, nodded. Being sensible, rather than his brainless acolyte would please her. “Presumably you will fund our entertaining?”

  “Who else?”

  “Do I have a budget?”

  “You will report your expenditure to me for sanction. You have a tendency to overspend, my pet.”

  “I’ve spent nothing but my own money,” she said, too quickly.

  “Your own money has gone. You are now attempting to spend your yearly allowance, too, and when you run out, you will be asking me for extra. Perhaps you could begin budgeting with your hats.”

  She didn’t answer. If he couldn’t see each hat was a mere refurbishing of her last, he hadn’t looked closely. Tonight, she would begin working on Sarah’s hats, too, and brook no objections from her cousin. In the meantime, she had a whole house to reorganize, beginning in the kitchen and with the battle between the housekeeper and the cook.

  She made her plans as she contemplated the scenery only once making the mistake of glancing at Nick, who appeared to be sleeping. With his elegant, wide-shouldered body relaxed and his fallen angel face at peace, he caused her to ache with love. Having to live the rest of her life without his regard would be devastating.

  The time had come to start earning his respect.

  * * * *

  “Let the kitchen staff know we have arrived home,” Charlotte said to Harvey as he let down the steps of the brougham.

  The coachman grinned, and she let him help her out. Nick followed as she entered the house, and he trailed her up the stairs to their sitting room, parting ways at their respective bedroom doors. Vera arrived as Charlotte removed her hat.

  “We weren’t expecting you,” she said, puffing, apparently having ru
n up the stairs.

  “Only Mr. Nick and I returned. Mr. Alden plans to stay in Stirling for the summer. Do you remember the conversation we had a month ago about starch in my husband’s collars?”

  Red-faced, Vera nodded. “I had a slight misunderstanding with Mrs. Wishart. She told the laundry-maid to use lavender oil in the starch.”

  “That’s not for Mrs. Wishart to decide. We know Mr. Nicholas likes lemon juice. See to it, please.”

  Vera left, a surprising smile on her face. Charlotte took a long, deep breath, buttoned her cuffs, patted her hair smooth, and went down the back stairs to the housekeeper’s door, on which she knocked.

  Mrs. Wishart invited her into the room, dark and over-furnished with mementos, and sat her on a straight-backed chair. “May I offer you a cup of tea?” The woman clasped her hands in front of the house keys dangling from her belt.

  “Yes, please.”

  And Charlotte waited for the formal ceremony to begin, the handover of the house to her running. She familiarized herself with the laundry arrangements, the storage of the linen, the safety of the silver, and the uniforms for the staff. She checked invoices and prices for food, regular payments, and the accommodation of the maids. Two hours later, after she requested that the drawing and dining rooms be fully cleaned top to bottom, she said, “Now, will you call Cook in here?”

  Tight-lipped, Mrs. Wishart sought out Cook and ushered her into the room.

  Charlotte waited until both women had seated themselves before taking a long, deep breath. “I’m changing the routine in this house, and I hope you both approve. Cook, as the oldest, although not in years, of the household retainers, you know the foods Mr. Alden and Mr. Nicholas prefer. I would like you to prepare a weekly menu for me, which we will go over in my rooms. There is no need for Mrs. Wishart to approve the changes I might make from time to time. Further, we will be doing extra entertaining in the next few weeks. Perhaps Mrs. Wishart could see about hiring another kitchen maid, with your approval, of course.”