"Well…For but a moment. I need to get home."
"I see you came with Lady Anne. How wonderful you both have become such good friends, Charlotte." Charles smiled at her widely, as they stood on the terrace. She breathed in the fresh air; it carried lilacs and other lovely floral scents from the garden.
"Oh! A garden, how beautiful!" She leaned over the railing to get a better look.
"Lady Charlotte! Do be careful!" He took her elbows gently and pulled her a bit back.
"I'm sorry, it's just so lovely." she murmured feeling sheepish.
"Forgive me dear, I did not mean to scold you," he chuckled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Charlotte felt very uneasy at that moment. Her mind reeled with thoughts of If Alex- No!
She shook her head. Alexander had nothing to do with this. So what if she found a-gulp- husband in Charles? He seemed decent- but her mind went back to his raising hand and she stilled. But would he always be? What if she were to vex him again? What on earth would happen to her?
She gazed at him confused at what his angle was as he leaned against the railing looking rather dashing, but no Alex...- She couldn't seem to get over that fact. Nor the fact that Alexander had been with Deirdre. "Charles...what is your agenda?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean, what do you want?" She eyed him cautiously, remembering their incident in the tea shop.
"Well, I want to get to know you...is all," he murmured and stepped closer to her.
She tried to back up, but hit the railing. "What?"
"I would very much...like..." he trailed an arm up her waist "to get to know you better Charlotte." he whispered to her hair. Charlotte deftly squirmed out from his grip.
"Forgive me, but I think we have different ideas of what ‘getting to know’ someone means Mr. Whitmore," she stated firmly.
"However do you suppose that Charlotte?"
"I-I..." she gulped, "because of how you are acting now, sir!" She swatted his hands and tried to turn away. She could feel her temper rising. The urge to slap him was like a great bubble in her chest.
"So, that Lord still has your apron strings?"
"I beg your pardon," she snarled at him her eyes flashing, "Who do you, think you are?"
"I think I'll be the one to marry you. You crafty little vixen."
"Not bloody likely," she sniffed, but as she turned, she spotted a woman gaping at them.
"What now?" she sighed exasperated at society.
"My dear, you have been found on a terrace...alone...with a man." The grin he had was devious. "And you are now tainted. One might overlook Alexander's intentions upon you, as he is a Lord. But I am a lower ranking man, and a rake."
"And?”
"You will be ruined otherwise."
Charlotte exhaled realizing what had happened. Society, she was beginning to realize, was brutal and harsh. "What...how could you! You knew!"
"Oh yes, I knew." He leaned against the railing and eyed her in a possessive way. "You're going to be mine. Charlotte. I won't take no for an answer..."
"No, I cannot...Charles..." She turned and began to walk away.
Alexander rushed through the rooms and met up as Anne came round the corner "Have you seen-" they both started..."Charlotte?" he gasped and Anne's eyes narrowed.
"What on earth would you want with Lady Charlotte, my Lord?"
"I-I was a fool...She saw something-"
"Oh I know what she saw Lord Cromwell-" Anne crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a maternal look- which was rather comical for a sixteen year old “I may be young, but I won’t allow you to hurt her!”
"It wasn't what it seemed," he nearly bellowed but kept his tone down.
"Oh?" Anne's eyebrow rose in sardonic disbelief, not bothered by his barely controlled rage.
"Lady Anne-" he started, but she shook her head glaring at him vehemently.
"Well, at least no one found out about the two of you, whatever it was between you two. But, apparently, she was seen with Charles on the terrace. Though, from my own friend, she seemed unhappy. Unfortunately, a friend of Deirdre’s saw her, as well. And you know what that means."
Alexander was not hearing her anymore. He was taking great strides to the opposite rooms, where the terraces were. He passed a few with kissing couples, two with singular women or men enjoying the breeze, but rounding upon the final one, he heard what he had been looking for.
Charlotte was caught by the arm quickly, his fingers gently digging into her flesh. "Ouch! Charles, leave me alone! I will not marry you. I-" she hissed her breath through her teeth when his grip tightened.
"Look here." Charles was growling at her now "You will marry me. You have no other choice. I am going to have you whether you approve or not." His teeth were gritted and his face no longer had the pleasant expression it had earlier.
"I'd rather die," she spat and he seemed to leer at her and towered over her frame.
"No, you are far too pretty to die." His hand ran across her face and leaned in.
"If Alex-"
"If Alexander what? Spots us? Someone already did. I don't doubt he's heard of it. It seemed that he was coercing Deirdre. He doesn’t give a damn about you. Remember? If he acted as if he did, it'd be on pure male possession. But have a care, do not let him fool you, Charlotte."
Silence was the answer and a dreaded feeling in her belly spread across her. “You are attempting to fool me as well Charles.” She finally said.
"And? Either way, Alexander can't save you now. I'll make you happy. You won't want for anything, as long as you give me children..." He glanced down at her waist with lust in his eyes. "I'll be perfectly happy."
"I-" tears welled in her eyes. "I-I'm leaving," she whispered and he let her go.
"Think about it Charlotte. I'll be waiting when you are done being looked upon like a tart that I know you are not," he grinned.
But she couldn't leave, because a man was standing in front of the door, blocking her path to the rest of the world. He blocked out the entrance in rage and without his mask, and he looked fearsome.
"Alex..." she whispered, as he strode past her and caught Charles by the collar and in one quick move threw him against the railing knocking the bear mask off.
"Alexander!" She grabbed his arm.
"What!" he yelled, not even looking at her.
"Stop it!" Charlotte demanded. "Stop it now!"
"Why?" he looked half mad.
"It's too late," she hissed at him and now, he spun on her fully.
Now she had his attention, "And what do you mean by that?"
"Go and find Deirdre. It's none of your concern what I do!" He looked as if he had been hit. As where Charles on the other hand, despite being sore and rubbing his shoulder, looked triumphant.
"What?" Alexander's expression was one of disbelief.
"You heard me. Whether or not I choose if I am with Charles is not your concern,” she said softly. Tears coated her throat and she choked on them, when the look in Alexander's eyes was murderous gaze that now glared at Charles.
Just jealousy...that is all, he has lost his plaything. She thought.
Alexander stared at Charlotte as if he had gone mad and heard her wrong. She can’t be with Charles! It wasn't possible! He turned on the smug looking man and with one glare he snarled at him. "I'll kill you-"
"You will not." Charles gloated "Do as the Lady asks and leave us, I won Alexander, be a good sport and leave."
"No!" Charlotte glared at them both. "I am not an object to possess." They both stopped "I am a person. A human being...with" she gasped as tears leaked from her eyes. "With feelings, and wants of my own!" She stumbled over the words finally breaking. She did not even know who she was, or where she belonged and felt more alien at that moment than ever in her short existence in their world.
"Sweetling-" he stepped forward from his adversary, his eyes filled with concern, and Charlotte stepped back.
"No! Do not call me that! I hate you! I
hate you both!" she choked back a sob. “You cannot keep me with you when you aren’t even willing to think of marriage…I won’t be anyone’s whore.” She spat the final word causing Alexander to flinch.
Alexander felt as if she had ripped his heart out "S-Charlotte, don't talk in such a way...you know I’d never think of you like that-" He took another step and noticed that others watched, the only good that they seemed to sympathize with Charlotte. Deidre stood out from the crowd glaring at them. "Charlotte please...let's just go home. We need to talk." He cradled her face in his hands, but she shook her head and stepped away. His arms fell to his sides limp.
"I will go home, thank you. Anne?" Anne had come to her side; the gaze from her sharp eyes speared him to the core.
Anne spoke softly, and quietly "I think, Lord Cromwell, that you have caused her enough pain. Go home, let us all cool ourselves down before this gets any further.” Everyone- crowd and all agreed.
Charlotte took Anne's arm and was guided away, silent tears spilling over her lower face shown only halfway from her mask, the dark eyes shattered like a mirror in the night.
He stood silent, and he felt a strange feeling in his body. Alexander, of course, had no knowledge, nor did anybody of what the feeling was, but one might have explained it as having one's chest spontaneously combust from the internal war in his heart.
Anne guided Charlotte through the rooms and out the door. Anne's mother had been glaring at Deirdre’s mother and then at Deidre, who for all intensive purposes looked not smug, or happy- but guilt ridden and abysmal. Alexander walked by and Deirdre caught his arm. "Alex!"
"Do. Not. Call. Me. That," he growled one word at a time before disengaging her. "And I never wish to see you again in polite society, Deirdre. Do you understand? Never!" With that he left.
A week later . . .
Charlotte lay in a wallowing heap on the chaise lounge in Anne's rooms. Anne was currently sweeping a beautiful cream dress about her person. She had sent Alex letter after letter and realized after he had missed her request for tea and a meeting- that he would not come for her.
"Anne?" she said woefully, "I think I might die."
"Oh, don't be such a ninny!" Anne waved her hands and walked over forcing her to sit up. "I know you feel dreadful darling." She hugged Charlotte gently and patted her head. "Mother said he was a beast for reacting in such a way over Whitmore and you, what with him gallivanting with Deirdre, the nerve!"
Charlotte's eyes welled with tears. "I hadn't even wanted Charles's attention," she cried. "Why did he have to be such a lout!" She smacked the cushion for emphasis on the word 'lout', as though it solidified her feelings. In reality, though, she knew "I love him…" she whispered.
"Well, he isn't deserving of the affection." Anne sniffed as her maid brought tea in to them and set it on the little table in front of the lounge.
Anne watched Charlotte pick at her scone and sip her tea gently. She set her cup and saucer back down and sighed, "Hm, so he is ignoring you?"
"I sent him a letter stating that I wanted to speak to him." Charlotte fiddled with a curl and glanced at Anne. "But he has not responded. It has been several days. I doubt I shall ever see him again!" She cried her pain anew and hiccoughed. "I-I feels so awful for saying I hate-hated him Anne! Oh, what do I do?"
"There, there now." Anne patted her shoulder. "This isn't you! Come now! You threw Deirdre’s fan into the pond!"
Charlotte sniffled. "It was rather funny," she agreed.
"And you slapped Charles at tea, before Alexander did anything." It was a mistake to say his name, as Charlotte began to cry again.
"You can take care of yourself! You don't need a man!" Anne declared. And with that said, she promptly mopped up Charlotte's tears. “At least not yet at least…” Anne realized that her practicality didn’t suit the moment and sighed. “Oh Charlotte, whatever will we do with you?” she laughed.
“Throw me to the wolves?”
“No, I have a better idea.” But she most certainly would keep it a secret to herself...
Alexander had been in a foul temper since the ball, barking at anyone who crossed his path, and passing Charlotte's previous rooms and not coming out of his own for hours. Sophie, Francesca and the others knew something was wrong when he had come home carried by Kade and Leroy, and thrown onto the bed and left. His friends explained what Alexander had told them about Deirdre at the tavern. They shook their heads sympathetically. Leroy thought love a sticky mess that made even the most respectable men cads. Kade simply felt bad in general.
The staff was even worse. Francesca and Sophie knew Charlotte had no idea of the ways of some women. And Francesca sipped her nightcap and worried about her new little friend and her master. Sophie could hardly sleep, but the only one who was happy was Giselle.
This did not make anyone like her any better. James who was used to checking the icehouse for her each day had to remind himself after the first day that she was not there. Nor would she sit with him and play checkers since she was awful at chess, despite his frantic attempts to let her win.
Francesca who was so used to going in and seeing Charlotte's face while tidying up the bedroom floor would get sullen and realize that she was probably never coming back. Sophie just sat, very quietly, and hardly laughed at all. None of them had ever realized that they would, or could, miss someone so much after only a short while.
Finally, having had enough of Alexander's tantrum, they all went to talk with him. Alexander, unaware of what they wanted, went into the dining room only to be met by three pairs of eyes, two glaring, and one beseechingly staring.
CHAPTER 14
"What?" Alexander asked leaning against a chair.
"Sir," James began "You've-"
But Sophie was the one to snap. "You've been acting horribly!"
Francesca nodded. "Indeed Alexander, why don't you just contact Charlotte?" was the suggestion, with a round of approving murmurs.
"She does not wish to see me."
"How do you know this?" James asked curious "No letters? Why don't you send-"
"I have, James! I have. She will not respond!" Alexander gasped as if the answer hurt him to say the truth of the situation.
"You love her," they all said.
"No, I just don't want her getting into marriage with someone who-who..."
"Who does not love her? Who is not you?" Francesca prodded. "Alexander you are denser than a block of wood. And it’s about time we hit you over your head too! You love her, or you wouldn't have acted in such a way!" Her hands on her hips, she glanced at the boy, now a man that she had watched nearly her whole life. "Go to her. Stop moping and being such a dandy and show her you care!”
James on the other hand looked suspiciously at Giselle who gleefully walked in and handed Alexander the post, who quickly upon seeing nothing from Charlotte tossed them on the table disinterested.
“Well...letters get lost. So maybe it's a trip to be made in person." James said slowly watching Giselle walk out in a happy bustle.
"What?"
"Just saying, you never know." he shrugged but gave the others a pointed look.
Francesca nodded and sighed, "Why not go over, and pay her a visit?"
"She wouldn't want me there." he bemoaned and sat back in the chair closing his eyes.
Sophie would have none of it. "Sir, get up and start doing something to win that girl back! We miss her!"
All the others nodded, and even some passing staff agreed. She had been a light in the Estate that had been as courteous as any Lady of the house. Francesca found herself idly waiting in the morning with a second cuppa to have with Charlotte when she would rise, Sophie getting an extra place set at dinner. The presence was noticed with the Lady guests and families, as well.
Though the town talked of what had conspired between he and Mr. Whitmore, no one dared speak of it. After all, Lord Cromwell might have made a mistake, but he was rich. That seemed to diminish the need for wondering where his proprie
ty had gone, the wealthy could do anything, after all.
The fathers of the Ladies simply wrote it off as "Young blood" or told him "Don't let a chit get the better of you lad, we've all been there," clapping him on the back in a jovial manners.
He was anything but jovial, happy, alive...that was it. He was not alive.
Alexander was half a person with Charlotte gone and he felt as if the entirety of his being had suddenly begun to rotate around a fixed point. It was no longer the idea of what he needed, or what the estate needed, or what his damned father, or his mother's adopted sister wanted. It was simply to have the woman he wanted by his side again.
The Rake and The Rose (A Rake's Mistake) Page 17
