Lady Charlotte's Marquess (The heir and a spare Book 2)

by Fiona Miers

  “I’m already ruined, Archie. I’ve never wanted anyone but you, so what does it matter if the world knows it?”

  “What! Do you think I’ll allow people to call you a whore!” Archie jumped to his feet with a start, horrified that she would suggest such a thing. He pulled his breeches on, his sticky body uncomfortable and aching.

  Charlotte faced him squarely, hands on her abundant hips.

  “I didn’t mean that,” she shouted back. “And I wouldn’t be a whore if you married me.”

  Archie took a step back from the powerful emotions brimming from every pore of his lover. He closed his eyes and reached deep inside himself for the mask he wore whilst in society.

  “I’m sorry if you assumed I’d marry you if you gave yourself to me.”

  Charlotte’s gasped and wrapped her arms around her body. Her eyes showed so much hurt and pain that Archie immediately wished the words back. Ruthlessly he squashed the impulse to comfort her and instead started pulling on the rest of his soiled clothing, not caring that he could smell himself and her on his jacket.

  Now that his brain wasn’t fogged in with the haze of passion, the voice of reason was reasserting itself. He had to keep her away from him. One more moment of intimacy and he would be down on bended knee begging for her hand in marriage, and damn the scandal. But he could never do that to her, never.

  “Charlotte, I know that one day you will find a man to marry who deserves you, but it’s not me.”

  Charlotte just stared at him, then asked the one question he never thought she would ask.

  “You don’t love me?”

  Archie jerked back as though she had struck him. Unable to lie to her face, he turned his back on her he faced the fireplace.

  There was only one answer he could give. “No, I don’t.”

  “Look at me when you break my heart, at least.”

  Archie closed his eyes in agony, yet turned at her request. His heart was now firmly locked away.

  “I’m sorry if I have hurt you Charlotte, but it is for your own good. Listen to me. Find someone to marry whose name isn’t going to be scorned for the next century.”

  “So you don’t love me?” she repeated the question, obviously aware of the fact that he was avoiding lying to her face.

  Archie steeled himself to lie again, but he wasn’t sure if he had the strength. This was truly going to kill all and any feeling Charlotte had for him. He opened his mouth but was saved by a knock at the door.

  “My lord, the solicitor is here to see you,” his butler announced through the door.

  “Thank you, Hill,” Archie choked out, “Lady Charlotte requires her cloak and I will need a few moments before attending to the solicitor, put him in the morning room.”

  Archie heard the butler leave and sent a prayer of thanks for discreet and loyal servants.

  “Go home Charlotte. Thank you for your... condolences and support but I think you must go.”

  Charlotte made an incoherent noise of pain in her throat and Archie turned away to open the door for the butler. He could barely breathe. Keeping a cool facade on his appearance was taking every ounce of strength he had.

  Archie was stunned by the amount of pain he was in. Charlotte was acting like she was in love with him, and what had she said ‘at least look at me when you break my heart.’ Oh God, she couldn’t love him, she just couldn’t. That would be so cruel.

  “Lady Charlotte’s cloak my lord.” Hill opened the door, bowed and handed Archie Charlotte’s cloak. He took one look at Archie’s ruffled and soiled appearance and nodded once, his face inscrutable.

  “If you will permit me, sir, I will walk Lady Charlotte out and you can see your valet in your room.”

  The quiet suggestion brought home to Archie just what he must look like. Clothes that had clearly been removed and then hastily redonned and the scent of male completion lingering in the air. Sick disgust twisting his gut, he nodded once to Hill and held open the door for his heart to leave him once and for all.

  Tears spilled down Charlotte’s reddened cheeks and she didn’t even bother to wipe them away. She simply took her cloak, wrapped it around herself and followed Hill from the room.

  *****

  Archie had thought the pain of losing his brother and his place in society would be hard, and for ten years, he had done everything in his power to prepare for the worst. He had realized very soon after Charlotte left his study that nothing he had ever experienced before came close to how he was feeling now. It had been a month since he had made love to his one and only love and he felt like she had walked away with his soul when she had left his home. He had nothing left inside of him. His heart beat so slowly that it was painful feeling its rhythm inside his chest, every waking minute.

  In full mourning and also in full disgrace Archie did not venture out of doors. He did not go for rides, he did not go to his club and he definitely did not see his friends. He had always thought that when the time came he would be content with his estate business. Meeting with the land manager, his broker, his banker, and the attorney. He would read his books at night and he would be content. How wrong could one man be?

  He missed his old life so much it literally choked him. He woke in the middle of the night struggling to breathe, sweat running off him. He had taken to bathing twice a day just to pass the time.

  He missed the time with his horses. He missed wasting time talking to Oliver, or pretending to drink with Rupert.

  Archie had always assumed that once he became his father’s heir and the worst was known, he could turn into a normal gentleman. He could drink all night, tup whores and gamble away his money. Instead of feeling free and rebellious, he was sad and empty. He would give anything to have his stoic, boring life back. To be able to marry the one woman he loved and by all impossible accounts, probably loved him too.

  That was the real rub. The look on Charlotte’s face when he had told her he still wouldn’t marry her, even after they had shared the most amazing experience of his life. It had almost slain him. He would have preferred a public lashing over watching her face crumble and her heart literally break at his feet. She had been so courageous, so brave, and he had been a coward.

  How could he have turned his back on her when she knew the worst about his family and yet she still wanted to marry him, be with him? He had spent the last ten years convincing himself that no woman would ever forgive him for tying her to a family with his reputation, and yet she had willingly come to him after she had found out. She had given herself to a man worth nothing in the eyes of so much of the ton.

  Could she really not care? Could she really be willing to marry him, love him? Despite everything?

  It had taken him a whole month of wallowing in his own stupidity and pouring all of his efforts into rebuilding his father’s neglected estate when he realized that his friends hadn’t turned their backs on him either, as he had expected. He had turned his back on them.

  It was amazing really. He had spent ten years fearing the worst and now he was doing his best to make it come true.

  All three of the original spares had been past numerous times, together and separately trying to visit him and he had turned them all away. At the time, he had told himself that he was protecting them, but wasn’t he really just protecting himself? From the hurt he assumed they were about to bestow by cutting him off? Or could he just not face their condolences and pity?

  That was more likely he acknowledged. He didn’t want men that had once respected his opinion and his self-control pitying him. Or worse, realizing that he had been faking his perfection under a huge amount of fear for most of his adult life.

  Archie saw his life ahead of him. Decades of lonely days and even lonelier nights. He would be totally alone, until he could convince some down on her luck spinster to marry him to continue the line. Knowing he could never love her the way he loved Charlotte.

  Archie stood up suddenly and had to sit down again just as quickly. When was the last tim
e he had eaten? He had no idea.

  All at once he knew what he had to do. He had to get a special license to marry Charlotte as soon as possible. They had an uncle on his mother’s side who was a bishop, he would grant Archie one. They were still in full mourning so a marriage would be looked down upon, regardless of his current situation. However, Archie knew that he would need more than just words to convince Charlotte that he desperately wanted to marry her. After all, he’d put her through he’d be lucky if she would have him now.

  Feeling a spark inside of him stir to life, a purpose that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, he ran to his rooms to change. He would organize a special license today and call upon her tomorrow. He had a purpose now, and nothing and no one was going to stand in his way.

  ****

  Charlotte had spent the last month wishing she were dead and the last two days wishing she were buried also, so that no one could ever find her. How could she have been so stupid? Not only had she given Archie the most prized possession of any gently bred lady, she had also given him her heart, and now she was lost without it.

  Her energy was running out. She couldn’t continue to pretend that everything was fine. She had tried to keep her regular routine so no one would know something was wrong. She went shopping with her maid for more dresses, gloves and shoes that she had no intention of wearing. Attended afternoon teas with her mother listening to people gossip about who was marrying whom and whether anyone had seen Archie. If she had to speak to one more insipid lady she would scream.

  To make matters, worse she had been vomiting throughout the day. The smell of any sort of meat turned her stomach. She could hardly get out of bed in the morning and was starting to worry that it was something more than a broken heart causing these things.

  Charlotte sat in the afternoon sitting room, embroidering, when she heard the welcome sound of her friend’s voice.

  “The Duchess of Lincoln,” their butler announced.

  Sarah breezed through the door looking beautiful, her sky blue dress offsetting her golden blue hair and cornflower eyes perfectly. Charlotte hadn’t seen Sarah in three months as her husband had whisked her off to their country estate after her bed rest had been completed.

  “Sarah.” Charlotte lay her embroidery aside and stood up to curtsy. She greeted her friend with the biggest smile she had conjured up in over a month.

  “Charlotte.” Sarah greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks, her warmth a balm to Charlotte’s frayed nerves.

  “What’s happened?” Sarah asked with a worried tone, then drew Charlotte over onto the chaise.

  Hot tears welled up in Charlotte’s eyes and she opened her mouth to tell someone of her pain. The door swung open again and her brother and Sarah’s husband joined them.

  “Are you crying again?” John asked rudely, his face grimacing at her.

  “John Dunford,” Sarah scolded as Charlotte’s eyes filled to the point of overflowing.

  John groaned and pointed at Charlotte. “I’m sorry Sarah. But something is seriously wrong with her and she won’t talk to anyone.”

  “John, please...” Charlotte begged. She had thought she hid her melancholy well from her family.

  “Tea and custard, your favorite, Lady Charlotte.” A maid came in bearing a huge tray of saucers and desserts.

  The smell of warm milky custard wafted up to Charlotte’s nose and before she could contain it, vomit erupted up her throat. She ran to the corner and deposited the very small amount of food in her stomach into it.

  Sarah put a hand over her mouth, the burn in her throat making her gasp.

  “This is what I mean. She has been moping around the house for weeks and now she’s sick all the time.”

  Charlotte thanked Oliver for his offered handkerchief and wiped her mouth. Despite the fact that she should have excused herself and gone upstairs, she moved slowly back over to Sarah’s side.

  Charlotte sat down with a weary sigh, picked up a cup of tea Sarah had poured and sipped slowly. The taste of stomach acid lingered in her mouth and she was pleased when the maid removed the custard and the tray from the room.

  Sarah’s eyes seemed to be cataloguing all of her symptoms and with a little gasp, she hissed into Charlotte’s ear.

  “Charlotte, you’re not!”

  Charlotte paled at the horrified look Sarah was giving her, her stomach wrenching painfully. She was going to lose all of her friends and family when everyone realized what she had done.

  “She’s not, what?” John asked, his tone one of bewilderment.

  “I thought it was just a stomach complaint, but putting it all together, it makes sense.” Charlotte admitted to her friend, collapsing further into her seat. She hadn’t had her monthly flux and she was so tired and sick all the time it could only mean one thing.

  Instead of shying away from her as Charlotte had expected, Sarah moved closer and was holding Charlotte within her arms in seconds. Heat surrounded her and Charlotte sobbed against her friend.

  “What are you going to do?” Sarah whispered into Charlotte’s ear, rocking her as though she were an infant herself.

  “I believe I’ll retire to our country estate this year and stay for a while,” Charlotte said calmly, pushing herself up to a seated position again as she finally accepted that her night with Archie had had consequences past what they had both imagined.

  The light of comprehension was dawning in Oliver’s eyes, but John was still at a loss regarding what was going on.

  “The Earl of Totherham,” their butler announced. This was Archie’s new title.

  Charlotte put her head on Sarah’s shoulder and clung to her hand. This day could not get any worse. She had wanted Archie to come to her for over a month and today was the day he chose?

  Sarah gave her a suspicious look and held her harder. Charlotte let another tear escape and let her friend, who was once a vicar’s daughter, give her the comfort she so desperately needed.

  ****

  Archie’s heart was thumping so loudly he was surprised he could hear the butler as he was announced over the roaring in his ears. He was shocked to find such a large group assembled in the parlor as he entered, but he bowed politely and then in on Charlotte. He had spent an hour with his valet preparing for this moment and he didn’t want to pretend indifference. He was shaved and oiled, pressed and perfectly dressed.

  “Charlotte, may I have a private word?” He asked, skipping the formalities. His throat was raw and sore from too much drinking and the silent screaming of the past month.

  Charlotte shook her head in answer and a silvery tear slipped down her cheek. Archie’s heart clenched hard in his chest. Why was she crying?

  “Tell me what the hell is going on!” John fairly yelled and Archie took a step back, shocked. What had he walked into?

  “My apologies John. I didn’t realize I interrupted something.”

  John waved his hand dismissively.

  “You didn’t Archie. All I know is that Charlotte has been ill for weeks and now she’s talking about retiring to the country until next season. Why would you do that, Charlotte? You know we don’t go out there.” John addressed his sister with a stern tone of voice. He was clearly baffled, but there was a wealth of meaning in his words that Charlotte was obviously ignoring.

  It hit Archie like a lead weight. He took in her face, the smell of vomit in the room and his actions of a month ago.

  “You’re pregnant.” He breathed, unable to believe it and yet speaking the words as soon as they entered his mind.

  “She’s what!” John and Oliver both yelled.

  “Impossible, tell them it’s impossible,” John urged Charlotte, taking a step closer to his weeping sister.

  Charlotte closed her eyes and seemed to sway against Sarah, the two women locking together like limpets to a rock.

  Opening her eyes she took a deep breath and Archie held his breath, waiting for the words that would determine his future.

  “It’s true.”
>
  Archie gasped and John wheeled back and collapsed into a chair.

  “Who, for God’s sake?”

  Archie opened his mouth to interrupt but Charlotte was refusing to look at him. She sat up straighter, moving away from Sarah to address the room.

  “The father has refused to marry me so I will be having the baby in the country and will stay there. I have no wish to burden my family with the stain that this will cause, but I will not give it up either.”

  Guilt hit Archie hard, with burning hot intensity. Did she really believe such a thing?

  “He won’t marry you? What sort of bounder seduced you?” Oliver cried.

  “Was it rape?” Sarah asked from next to Charlotte, the only one brave enough to ask the question.

  Oh God no!

  “No,” Charlotte cried, sitting back down next to Sarah and squeezing her hands.

  “Well, we’ll find someone else to marry you, you are not giving birth to a bastard Charlotte. Maybe someone who needs an heir but hasn’t any children...” John was mumbling now, looking for possibilities and options for his beloved sister.

  Archie hadn’t moved since Charlotte had announced that she was indeed with child. He felt as though he had been hit with a mallet, unmoving and pained. He had finally decided that enough was enough, he would beg Charlotte to forgive him and marry him, and now she had to. He should have felt relieved, but he didn’t. He wanted her to choose him because he loved her, not because there was a child.

  He then heard the words John was raving, and his control snapped.

  “Stop!” he roared at them, pushing his hands out to the room as though he could stop the insanity around him.

  Archie staggered over to Charlotte and went down on his knees in front of her. He reached for her hands and clasped both of hers in his. She looked up at him with tear stained eyes and his heart did a little misstep.

  “Marry me,” he urged, squeezing her hands for emphasis.

  “No.” Charlotte shook her head and bit her lip, two more tears slipping down her pale cheeks.

  “Yes,” he insisted, holding onto her hands when she tried to pull them away.