Chapter 26
“Did you sleep well, my dear?” Gwendolyn said as she bustled into the dining room where Charlotte was already sitting down to breakfast.
“Oh yes, thank you kindly.” Charlotte lied and felt sure that the puffiness around her eyes would give her away.
“This arrived for you just moments ago.” Gwendolyn handed Charlotte a letter.
Charlotte immediately recognized the handwriting, even though she had not seen it for years. It was a letter from James, she had no doubt about that. She was seized by a somewhat less intense feeling of shock than the one she had suffered the day before inLady Elton’s drawing room, but it was unsettling nonetheless.
On very little sleep, the arrival of his letter was all too much, and Charlotte folded it roughly and stowed it, unopened, into the pocket of her gown.
Gwendolyn did not speak at first, she simply sat down at the table and poured herself some tea from the pot. She made no move to help herself to anything from the breakfast dishes but instead leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and took a sip of hot tea.
“I cannot quite face breakfast until I have had a cup of tea.” Gwendolyn said gently.
“I must admit I always wake up hungry, Aunt Gwendolyn.” Charlotte knew that this was small talk and it was making her strangely uncomfortable.
“Even when you have hardly slept?” Gwendolyn’s question was unexpectedly pointed although delivered with kindness.
“Yes.” Charlotte said and felt her cheeks reddening.
“I do not mean to upset you, my dear.”
“You have not upset me,Aunt Gwendolyn.”
“The letter is from him, is it not?” Gwendolyn said, surprising Charlotte even further. “From the Duke of Sandford, I mean.”
For a moment, Charlotte simply looked at her aunt helplessly. She was surprised at the woman’s instinct, and yet she ought not to have been. For one thing, her behavior in Lady Elton’s drawing room must have been most bizarre. Her insistence that she be introduced to Marcus Hillington must have raised her aunt’s suspicions, and perhaps she had even seen Charlotte look at the Duke and hurriedly turn away from him.
However,if her aunt had discovered their connection, there seemed little point in denying it now.
“Yes, I recognize the handwriting.” Charlotte said simply.
She stared down at her plate for a moment and wondered what on earth she would say next. She was glad, however, that the fire in her cheeks had gone out and her skin was very likely returned to its customary color.
“I am afraid that the Duke gave himself away, my dear. He could not concentrate on conversation with Lady Elton and me for looking across the room to where you were. In the end, he had to admit to knowing you, but it was his questions about Marcus Hillington which truly uncovered him.”
“Marcus Hillington?” Charlotte said incredulously.
“He asked a number of questions which I think were designed to look like mild interest. But he very soon came to the question of Marcus Hillington’s wife or lack thereof, and I knew then that the Duke has some feeling for you. I am right, am I not?”
“I do not think for a minute that the Duke of Sandford has any feelings for me.” Charlotte said and was surprised by the bitterness in her tone.
“But why do you say that? What passed between the two of you that you would sooner spend the afternoon with the dullest man in all the county?”
“Marcus Hillington was very pleasant, Aunt Gwendolyn.” Charlotte said in rusheddefense of a man who was truly very dull indeed.
“But Marcus Hillington is not really the subject of interest here, is he?”
“No, I suppose he is not.”
“The Duke said that he had been to Thurlow Manor, Charlotte. Were you very close?”
“I had thought we were,” Charlotte said sadly. “But it would appear that I was wrong. And anyway, it was three years ago now and it hardly matters anymore.”
“The fact that you are clearly affected by it suggests to me that it does matter. And I could see that it mattered to the Duke also.”
“Aunt Gwendolyn, I can assure you that I do not matter very much the Duke. I was nothing more than an amusement to him, one that only lasted as long as it took him to find somebody else.”
“Somebody else?”
“James Harrington disappeared without trace. One moment he was a regular visitor to Thurlow Manor and Hanover Hall and the next, he was gone. No explanation, no letter of apology, nothing. He just disappeared, retreating back to the west of the county never to return. Yesterday was the first time I have set eyes on him since those days and I must admit that I was very shocked by it. If I embarrassed you in any way with Lady Elton, Gwendolyn, I truly am very sorry. But please understand that my feelings had been incredibly hurt in years gone by and the shock of seeing him standing there before me was very great.”
“Let us be very clear about something, Charlotte. You have nothing to apologize for and you most certainly did not embarrass me in front of Lady Elton.” Gwendolyn reached out for the pot to replenish her tea and smiled warmly at Charlotte. “But who did he reject you in favor of?” Gwendolyn squinted as if confused.
“I have no idea.”
“I ask because that young man has not been linked to any lady for many years that I know of.”
“He has not?” Charlotte realized immediately that she felt relieved.
Not simply relieved that she had not been rejected in favor of somebody else all those years ago, but relieved that he was still unmarried.
Of all the things in the world, she would not have wanted to feel that, but she was unable to stop it. It was a reaction that had a life of its own and there was nothing she could do about it.
But there lay the pathway to pain, of that much Charlotte was certain, and even if she could not entirely master her feelings on the subject, she could certainly control her own actions.
“No, it has been quite the talk of many a drawing room. After all, he is extraordinarily handsome and yet he has shown no interest at all in any young lady. Rumor has it that his father tried very hard to have him settle upon somebody, but he would not do it. I believe it led to a great deal of consternation between the two of them, a certain amount of exasperation on the old Duke’s part.”
“I see.” Charlotte said slowly.
“So perhaps it was something else entirely?”
“Yes, perhaps it was,” Charlotte said, realizing that she had a very good idea what. “Perhaps it was his little game after all.”
“Little game?” Gwendolyn looked perplexed.
“I suppose I was a little standoffish with James Harrington when we first met, and he came to see me as something of a challenge.”
“Indeed?” Gwendolyn gave a knowing smile as if the idea was not entirely foreign to her.
“I resisted for some time, but my feelings grew, and I felt certain that his did also. In the end, I chose to trust not only my own feelings, but his also and allowed myself to fall in love with him. Perhaps when he realized it, that was when his victory was complete, and he had no further use of me.”
“I am bound to say that that is a dreadfully cynical assumption, Charlotte.”
“I cannot think of any other reason for his sudden departure. What else could cause him to cease all contact without any explanation whatsoever?”
“I suppose it could be anything at all,” Gwendolyn said cautiously. “But perhaps you will never know if you do not ask.”
“Perhaps,” Charlotte said quietly. “But I decided long ago that I would never look back. It was a shock to see him yesterday, yes, but I shall not allow that to affect me and my judgment. I feel I can admit to you, Aunt Gwendolyn, that I really did feel so very dreadful at the time and I have vowed never, ever to repeat that experience. Not with the Duke of Sandford, and not with any man.”
“But surely there can be no harm in reading his letter and seeing what it is he has to say.”
“No, I suppose not.” Charlotte said, even though she did not truly believe it.
“Do not look so disquieted, Charlotte, for I do not expect you to open it in front of me and read it now. I simply meant for you to read it when you have a moment alone. It might answer some questions for you, or it might simply allow you to move on just as you had hoped to.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Perhaps even Ruth would sit with you whilst you read it.” Gwendolyn said, and Charlotte was suddenly touched.
Her aunt had perceived the strong friendship between mistress and maid and had seemingly understood it;certainly, she had not poured any scorn on it. And it was true, if that letter was ever going to be read, it would surely be read in the presence of her beloved Ruth.
“Yes, I am sure that she shall.” Charlotte said gratefully. “Thank you, Aunt Gwendolyn. Thank you for listening.”
“I am available any time you need me.” Gwendolyn said and finally began to serve herself some breakfast from the many dishes.
“I think your aunt is right, Miss. I think you should read it.” Ruth said just an hour later when the two of them were sitting side-by-side on Charlotte’s bed. “After all, can it really be any more shocking than seeing him in the flesh yesterday?”
“No, when you put it like that, I suppose it cannot.” Charlotte laughed at Ruth’s ever-present practicality. “How is it that you always have the answer?”
“Many years of practice, Miss.” Ruth said and both women laughed.
“Well, I shall read it then. I shall read it out and see what you think to it.” Charlotte reached into her pocket and pulled out the letter.
She gently broke the wax seal and flattened out the smooth, heavy paper. She stared at the words without reading them, just becoming familiar once again with the shape of his lettering, the forward flow and gentle swirls of his handwriting.
“My Dear Charlotte,
I hope you will forgive the informality of my address, but that is how I shall always remember you. We had reached that point of informality, had we not? I know we have been these three years apart, but I would hope that we are somehow able to forego a return to introductions, formalities.
But, of course, I realize that you might very well be angry with me and, in truth, I know you have a right to it.
For me to step out of your life three years ago without any explanation whatsoever must have been dreadfully difficult for you, and I know it was almost impossible for me. It is not an easy thing to explain in a letter and I hope that you will, one day, consent to hear me out in person. Perhaps even one day soon, for I know I should very much like to see you and speak to you again.
Suffice it to say that my father played a very great hand in keeping us apart and it might come as no surprise to you to know that he was an extraordinarily powerful man in some respects. He was most determined that I finally marry a woman of his choosing, one whose father had access to great funds, although I am pleased to report that I resisted that particular want of his at all costs.
But I am afraid that one of those costs was our growing regard for one another, and it is something that I have regretted every day since, although I could see no way of overcoming it until now.
You will be aware, I am sure, that my father has lately passed away and, whilst we were reconciled at the very end and he apologized for his behavior, it is true to say that I do not mourn him. As hard as that might sound, we were never in sympathy with one another and I found it very difficult to forgive him for the interference which caused me so much pain.
But I have forgiven him in the end, for I see it is the only way to move forward in this world. And I should very much like to move forward with you now, Charlotte. I know that this must all seem very sudden to you, but I am bound to say that it is something which has played on my mind daily since the last time I saw you at Lord Morley’s ball. That was a most special night to me and one that I have never forgotten.
I do not know how long you are intending to be in this part of the world, but I should very much like to see you whilst you are here. And even when you return, I am now free to make my own decisions entirely and shall once again become a regular visitor to Hanover Hall. I would be very glad if you would at least consider us friends once again.
At the end of the week, I am to attend a garden party at the home of Colonel Fitzroy-Martin. I understand that you and your aunt are also invited, and I live in great hopes of seeing you there.
Of course, if you choose not to attend, I shall understand it entirely. But as much as I shall understand it, I will find it very hard to give up on you now that I have seen you again.
Perhaps I have already said too much in a letter and shall leave the rest to be said when we two are together again.
In the meantime, take the greatest care of yourself.
With the fondest regards,
James.”
“But what you think, Miss?” Ruth began to speak the very moment that Charlotte had finished reading the letter aloud.
“I hardly know what to think. It is not an explanation, is it? Surely his father was not so powerful that James could not at least send me a final letter three years ago. No, I am not inclined to forgive him as he has been inclined to forgive his father.”
“But perhaps he has things to say that he could not set out in a letter.” Ruth said hopefully.
“Ruth, you are still the romantic. I wish I had a heart as open as yours, but I do not. A wall came up around it when James hurt me, and I cannot see an easy way to break it down.”
“But will you go to the garden party now that you know he is going?”
“Yes, I will most certainly go to the garden party.”
“So, you will speak to him, then?” Ruth’s bright blue eyes looked brighter still.
“No, I am only going because Marcus Hillington is to attend.”
“Marcus Hillington?” Ruth said, and her mouth fell open as she stared at her mistress in disbelief. “But as you described him to me, Miss, you have no regard for him whatsoever. He was dull, was he not? And not particularly interested himself?”
“Exactly,” Charlotte said firmly. “A man of good sense and reasonable wealth. A man I could never be hurt by because I could never fall in love with him. The very man I have been seeking these last three years.”
“You cannot mean it,” Ruth said plaintively. “Not now, not when there is a chance for you and James Harrington after all.”
“My dear Ruth, I mean it now more than ever. Mr. Hillington has appeared in my world at just the right time.” Charlotte said and rose to her feet before carelessly tossing the Duke of Sandford’s letter onto her nightstand.