London Ladies (The Complete Series)

by Eaton, Jillian

  “Yes.” Dianna waved her hand dismissively in the air. “Once again, I know that, but it is not me we are trying to convince, is it? As I was saying, you could be that woman, or you could be the woman who fell in love at first sight and, even though it pained her terribly, ended her courtship to an overzealous suitor in favor of marrying her one true love. Since we were able to convince Lady Waterson of the latter, that is the version of events the ton will hear first. You will be seen as a romantic heroine and Gavin your handsome, albeit unconventional, hero.”

  Charlotte mulled it over. “But you swore Annabeth to secrecy.”

  “And she swore on her mother’s life. A mother, by the way, who has been dead for nearly three years now.”

  “You should be a politician,” Charlotte said, shaking her head in amazement and no small amount of admiration.

  “Quite true,” said Dianna, looking inordinately pleased with herself. “Unfortunately, I fear that would not go over well in the House of Lords. Could you imagine if I showed up and demanded a seat?” Her lips curved. “They would laugh themselves silly.”

  They would indeed, but that was a battle Charlotte would have to fight another day. For now, she needed to ensure her reintroduction into Society as Lady Graystone went smoothly and without angst, for Gavin would have little need for a wife who was shunned by the ton.

  They considered him to be an outsider, but an outsider they accepted because of his wealth and the connections he had forged. Gavin needed those connections to keep his wealth, and his wealth to keep his connections. Without one the other suffered dearly, and there was no doubt in Charlotte’s mind that if she came to threaten either he would cast her aside as quickly as if she were an old shoe.

  She should have thought of the repercussions that could form due to their hasty marriage before they ever left for Scotland, but she had been so desperate to escape Paine’s clutches that little else seemed important.

  “Do you think it will work?”

  “It will,” Dianna said confidently. “I am sure of it.”

  Charlotte wished she felt the same.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Four Weeks Later

  It worked.

  Courtesy of Annabeth’s penchant for spreading gossip, news of Charlotte and Gavin’s wedding spread like wildfire through the ton.

  Courtesy of Dianna’s creative spin on the truth, everyone believed the newlyweds were madly in love and Charlotte was not only forgiven, she was commended, although quietly and when no one thought they were being overheard. After all, love in and itself was not a traditionally acceptable reason to marry, but it carried with it a romanticism that all women, no matter their age or social standing, dreamed of one day finding for themselves.

  There was also a sense of intrigue and excitement that accompanied a lady marrying a commoner. A commoner who was accumulating wealth hand over fist even as England’s most prestigious families were losing their fortunes by the day.

  Changes were in the air. The old ways were fading to make way for the new, and many were whispering Charlotte was only the first to find her husband outside of the peerage.

  Oh, there were some who still touted it as the largest scandal to hit London since Lady May was found with Lord Thatcher in the drawing room with her skirts up around her ears, but they were few and far between, and quickly shushed when they raised their voices in opposition against the ton’s newest darlings.

  Invitations poured in, each more exclusive than the last, and at last Gavin had what he he’d always wanted: Society’s acceptance. Their lives should have been perfect, and to some degree they were, with one glaring exception…

  They treated each other like strangers.

  Oh, they were polite. Painfully so, to Charlotte’s mind, but when it came down to it they exchanged less than a dozen words per day. Gavin kept busy with work, while she divided her time between visiting Dianna and gardening. The only time they behaved as a true husband and wife was when they were under the scrutiny of the ton.

  Charlotte lived for those moments when she could hold Gavin’s arm when they walked into a ballroom, or sit beside him in an opera box, or simply gaze upon him without having to disguise her affection. The few times she caught him staring at her in a similar fashion only made her feel worse instead of better, because while she knew her love for him was genuine, she feared any signs of adoration he displayed were only an act for the benefit of those around them.

  As the days became weeks Charlotte drew further and further into herself and Gavin, obsessed with his work, drew further and further away. She grew terrified the invisible wall that had come to exist between them was unbreakable; the stone too hard for even the heaviest hammer to crack.

  Every evening, like clockwork, Gavin returned home at half past six. He changed for dinner, ate across from her without looking up from his newspaper, and went to bed, alone, after pressing a chaste kiss to her temple and emotionlessly wishing her a good night.

  She quickly came to hate those kisses. She also hated all of the pretending. Pretending she did not secretly yearn for her husband every second of every day. Pretending his cool aloofness did not cut her to the bone. Pretending things would get better in time.

  At least she finally understood why Gavin was so opposed to love.

  Loving someone tore a hole in your heart. When they loved you in return, that hole was filled. But if they didn’t, it was nothing but a gaping, bloody wound.

  And Charlotte found herself bleeding all the time.

  The only thing that served to distract her from constantly agonizing over Gavin were her visits with Dianna. Today, her dear friend had come to call on her at Shire House to divulge all of the delicious rumors that had sprung up since they’d last seen each other.

  “Did you hear where you spent your honeymoon?” Nipping into a pastry, Dianna brushed crumbs from the lap of her yellow skirt and grinned ear to ear when Charlotte shook her head. “The coast of France, bathing in the healing waters of the Golfe du Lion.”

  Releasing an unladylike snort of laughter, Charlotte stood up to refresh their drinks. A light breeze ruffled the edges of her shawl as she crossed the courtyard to fetch a larger pitcher of lemonade. With renovations continuing inside the house, she had taken to spending most of her time outside, tucked away from the noise and Dobson’s never ending glares.

  For whatever reason, the butler had taken an instant dislike to her. No, not dislike. Hate was a far better word for it. There was hate in his eyes whenever she caught him staring at her. An oily, venomous kind of hate that had infected the rest of the staff.

  Oh, they certainly were on their best behavior when Gavin was about. But when he was away–which was the majority of the time–both she and Tabitha were outright ignored. It made running an effective household impossible, which was why, weather permitting, she remained stayed out of the house as much as possible. No one bothered her when she was in the courtyard, not even Dobson.

  She could have reported his insubordinate behavior to Gavin, of course. Dianna and Tabitha had urged to do just that on more than one occasion. But she was hesitant. After all, one of the reasons Gavin had married her was so she could manage the day to day affairs of Shire House, and telling him of Dobson’s blatant disrespect would be the same as admitting failure.

  Hefting up the silver pitcher of lemonade, she refreshed Dianna’s glass and then her own before setting it down on the wrought iron table between them. Together–she had not bothered to waste her time going inside to ask for help–they had dragged the heavy table to the far corner of the lawn where afternoon shade was abundant.

  Stray filters of light trickled down through the branches, highlighting Dianna’s ivory skin and delicate, doll like countenance. “I still do not understand why you do not have that awful butler thrown out on his ear. It would serve him right after how he has treated you.” She took a sip from her glass, puckered her lips, and set it quickly aside. “And while I know you mean well, your lemon
ade tastes dreadful.”

  “You did not complain about it before.”

  “Only because I was dying of thirst.”

  “It is rather bitter,” Charlotte was forced to agree after taking a sip herself. “I will have to remember to add more sugar next time.”

  Dianna made a face that had nothing to do with the bitterness of her drink. “You should not have to remember anything, because you should not be making your own refreshments. What is the point of being wealthy if you do not have servants that serve you? Where is Dobson, that mangy cur? I should like to give him a piece of my mind!”

  “Do sit down,” Charlotte said in exasperation when Dianna shot to her feet. “You are behaving…well, you are behaving like me.”

  “Like you used to behave, you mean.” Dianna settled gracefully back into her seat, crossed her legs primly at the ankle, and proceeded to ruin her ladylike mannerisms by rolling her eyes, a habit she’d undoubtedly picked up from Charlotte. “Nowadays you are timid as a mouse. What has happened to you? Are you”–her eyebrows lifted as her voice lowered– “in the family way?”

  Charlotte’s laugh was as sour as the lemonade. “No, no there is no chance of that.”

  “No chance? Then you mean…”

  “We have been sleeping in separate rooms.”

  “My parents have always kept separate bedrooms, and yet here I am.” Dianna’s lips curved. “Do you need me to explain the birds and the bees to you? I think someone is under the impression that a baby is delivered by a stork or found under a cabbage leaf—”

  “We do not have relations!” Charlotte cried. She flung a hand out and knocked her glass aside, spilling lemonade in a watery stream across the table. “There. Is that what you wanted to hear? We were together–once!–and never again. Gavin does not want children. Not,” she muttered sardonically under breath, “that we are in danger of creating any.”

  Dianna, who had frozen like a startled deer the moment Charlotte raised her voice, stood up without a word to fetch a handful of linen towels from the serving tray. Returning, she handed one to Charlotte to blot at the spots of lemonade on her bodice and used the rest to the clean the table.

  “But you’ve never said anything before, and you both seem so happy when I see you together. Are you sure you haven’t just had a spat? A lover’s quarrel, perhaps?” she said hesitantly, pausing mid-swipe.

  “To have a lover’s quarrel we would actually have to be in love.”

  “I see.” Dianna attacked the table again, more vigorously this time. “And of course the reason you have not told me any of this before is because…”

  “I was ashamed,” Charlotte whispered. It was, at long last, time for the truth to be spoken out loud, not only for the sake of Dianna’s ears, but hers as well. “I keep hoping things will change, but they never do. We live like strangers when we are alone. Barely speaking. Never touching.”

  Concern was etched across every inch of Dianna’s countenance. She set the damp towels aside and clasped Charlotte’s hands before sinking into her chair. “Do you think there is someone else? You know how men can be.”

  “No, Gavin’s work is his mistress. The worst is he told me this is how it would be from the beginning, but I refused to listen. ‘A business arrangement’, he said. That is what he wanted, and that is what I agreed to, but now…”

  “Now you have changed your mind,” Dianna finished when Charlotte’s voice broke.

  Miserable, she nodded. “Yes. Almost from the first moment after we were wed I began to fall in love with him. There were times when I thought he was doing the same, but he is such a hard man. I never know what he is thinking or feeling. He hides himself behind a wall that I can never seem to get past.”

  “And you love him still?”

  Tears welled on her lashes. “I know how foolish it sounds. How stupid. I do not even know why I love him. He is short tempered, brooding, mysterious—”

  “Sinfully handsome,” Dianna interceded.

  Charlotte picked up one of the lemonade soaked linens and dabbed at her eyes. “Yes, he is quite easy to look at, isn’t he?”

  “Exceedingly so.”

  “But that is not why I love him.”

  “Maybe not, but I can’t imagine it hurts anything.”

  “Oh, Di, what am I going to do?” Leaning back in her chair, Charlotte dropped her head and looked up at the sky. It glimmered through the canopy of leaves in flashes of blue far above her, so easy to see yet impossible to touch. Gavin was like that, she thought. Even when he was right next to her he was always out of reach.

  “I wish I had an answer.” Dianna gave a helpless shrug. “Do you think there’s a chance he could ever come to feel for you as you feel for him?”

  Charlotte dropped her chin. “Yes, and that is the most frustrating part. I know with all my heart he could love me if he simply let himself, but he refuses. We could be good together. When I decided to marry Gavin to escape the duke, I never dreamt I would fall in love with him. It was meant to be a marriage of convenience.”

  Nothing more and nothing less.

  Dianna’s smile was small, and just a little sad. “Fate has a way of reminding us that nothing is in our control, not even love. Especially love. Has he talked to you about his life before? Maybe there’s a reason…”

  But Charlotte was already shaking her head. “He’s told me nothing. He shuts me out, consistently and completely. He is consumed with his work. It’s the only thing that seems to matter to him. I certainly don’t.”

  And oh, that admission cost her dearly.

  “I’m sure that is not true,” Dianna protested. “Mr. Graystone cares for you. He must. As for his work…it is what he’s used to become who he is. He wasn’t born with wealth and privilege, like we were. He’s had to fight for everything he has. That enormous carriage. This fine house. Which, by the by, you’ve done a splendid job decorating. The marble tile in the foyer is divine.”

  “Thank you. It was imported from Italy.” Charlotte hesitated. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way before. Gavin’s work being who he is instead of what he does. But you’re right. Of course you’re right.”

  “Thank you. You know…I believe you may be approaching this all wrong. You’ve been acting like a wife.”

  Charlotte lifted a brow. “I am a wife.”

  Even though she didn’t feel like one.

  “Precisely.” As Dianna’s blue eyes took on an excited gleam, she sprang out of her chair. “But what you need to be is a carriage.”

  “A carriage?” Bemused, Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you see? Mr. Graystone desires what he doesn’t have. Heavens, he only met you twice before he proposed marriage. Because he needed to have you. Just like at some point I’m sure he needed to have that fancy carriage of his. And this house. And any other matter of things. But now that he has you, he’s taking you for granted. And you’re letting him.”

  Could it really be as simple as that?”

  “I am not sure…”

  “I’m right,” Dianna said with confidence. “I know I am. Mr. Graystone loves you. He just won’t–or can’t–admit it. Why else would he have married you?”

  “Because he needed a lady of the peerage to run his household and smooth the way for him into High Society,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly.

  “Oh, really? And how has managing Shire House gone thus far?”

  “There have been a few minor hiccups—”

  “A few? I say this with all the kindness in the world, but you’ve absolutely no control of the staff. Which is something your husband would surely notice, if that was his reason for marrying you. Furthermore, if he had seriously wanted a lady wife with high connections to ensure his foothold in the ton, there were a dozen other women he could have chosen who were better suited than you. I say with all kindness.”

  Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”
>
  Her so-called ‘friend’ sighed. “How can I put this in any plainer terms? Your husband is a man who fights fiercely for what he wants. We should all be so lucky to find such a man someday. At the moment, he has you. Make it so he does not, and he will move mountains to get you back. I can guarantee it.”

  “How? How can you guarantee such a thing?” Charlotte wanted to believe Dianna. Desperately. But having been burned so many times before, she was naturally loathe to risk opening up her heart to more pain and disappointment.

  “Because I believe in love.”

  “Even after…?” Charlotte did not want to bring up Lord Radnor again, but how could she not? And how could Dianna still possibly believe in happy endings after what her horrible fiancé had forced her to endure?

  “Even after Miles,” Dianna confirmed with a tremulous smile. “Sometimes love comes quickly, sometimes love comes slowly, and sometimes it visits for a while and then unexpectedly disappears. But you have to believe in it, and you have to fight for it, or else what is the point to anything?”

  “What is the point indeed,” Charlotte murmured. Jumping impulsively to her feet, she skirted around the table and embraced Dianna in a tight embrace that left them both breathless. “You’re a dear, dear friend, Miss Dianna Foxcroft. What would I do without you?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest, but you’ll have to make do for now, because I’ve got to run.” Dianna gaze Charlotte another hug, then stepped away and reached for the emerald green spencer jacket she’d draped over the back of her chair upon her arrival. “Mother is expecting me for supper. An old friend of my father’s is to dine with us, and we must all be there to greet him. Lord Hatchett.” She made a face. “He is horribly boring, and likes nothing more than to discuss his hunting and fishing expeditions in great detail.”

  “I’d rather that than my evening,” Charlotte grumbled. “Gavin and I finally going to see my mother.”

  Dianna’s eyes widened. “You haven’t seen her yet?”