She sighed, thinking again about how wrong the conversation had gone. “I only wanted to suggest to Father that you might—” She hesitated, uncertain how to explain. It wasn’t as if James had proposed. He’d only mentioned calling on her.
“That I might be a potential suitor?” He smiled as he ran the back of one finger along her cheek, and her chest tightened at his gentle touch. “Because that is my intention.”
“It is?” Her heart fluttered at his words then beat wildly.
“Charlotte, by now you must know how deeply I care for you.”
“I care for you as well. So much.” The urge to say more gripped her, bringing tears to her eyes. She loved him with all her heart. Yet she feared telling him when so much stood in their path would be foolhardy.
“We will find a way to overcome your father’s objections.”
“I’m not certain that’s possible. My attempt didn't proceed according to plan. Mother and Father were arguing. While I hate to think anything I said caused it, I’d prefer they clear the air than continue to live in misery.”
James nodded. “That must’ve been an uncomfortable conversation.”
“I just hope I didn't make matters worse. Father is stubborn and unwilling to listen to anyone but himself. The situation is incredibly frustrating.”
“I wonder why he is so set on Lord Samuelson when you’ve expressed your dislike of the man.”
“He mentioned a plot of land he’ll receive upon our marriage.” She shook her head. “But it's difficult to believe the land is so dear to him. More dear than—” A lump filled her throat at the thought that she meant so little to her father.
“In all honesty, I don't care what the reason is behind it. I only want their agreement to end.” James lifted her free hand to brush a kiss along her knuckles, sending awareness shooting all the way to her toes.
“I'm so pleased you came by,” Charlotte said. Being with him was a balm to the evening’s turmoil.
“I had to see how you fared.” He turned her hand to kiss the palm and desire speared through her.
His brief touch set her entire body trembling. She held the candle carefully to one side and lifted onto her toes to kiss him. Being with him always made her feel as if all would be well. His presence pushed aside the sense of impending doom that had held her in its grip since dinner. When they were together, anything seemed possible.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers, his warmth seeping through her thin robe. The feelings rushing through her were a reminder that what they had between them was special and worth fighting for.
She couldn't—wouldn't—marry Lord Samuelson. Not given her feelings for James. What a gift it was to know he returned them. Yet she knew the road ahead would be fraught with difficulty.
The worry had her easing back to look into his eyes.
“I'm not certain what to do next,” she admitted.
“I do. If it brings you comfort, we have Edward’s blessing.”
“We do? You told him?” A little thrill ran through her even as she wondered what exactly he’d said. While she knew Edward didn’t want her to be unhappy, she doubted that he realized the strength of her dislike for Lord Samuelson. Edward couldn’t change their father's mind, but having his approval helped. “That is good to hear.”
“He was rather...surprised.” The edge in his tone made her even more curious.
“I suppose we haven't been with him since we...” Heat filled her cheeks as she stumbled over how to describe their relationship.
James’ smile eased her embarrassment. “Since we have come to care for one another?”
She nodded at the simple explanation though it didn’t begin to describe how she felt. “How do you suggest we proceed?”
“I will call on your father tomorrow and ask permission to court you.”
Charlotte’s spirits plummeted. “He'll refuse.”
“That's a risk I will have to take. Perhaps I can find a way to convince him that our match would be beneficial to everyone.”
Despite James’ reassurance, doubt returned in full force. “I'm not certain that would be wise. Perhaps we should wait.”
“For what? Are you having second thoughts about us?”
“No, of course not.” He was the one part of her life of which she was certain. “I want to find a way to convince Father to reconsider his plan, though I don’t know how.”
“Do not worry so.” He reached for her waist and held her tight. “A conversation with your father is the proper way to proceed. I want to make my intentions clear. We won't make further plans until we learn his response.”
“I fear your conversation with him will be unpleasant at best.”
“Trust me. I've endured worse.”
“I suppose you have.” Her heart ached at the truth of his statement. She hoped one day he would share some of his experiences. “I don’t want a life such as my parents have.” The words slipped out before she thought better of them.
“Nor do I.”
“I want us to be honest with one another.” Did he understand what she implied?
“Of course. I want that as well.”
“Then in the coming days, will you tell me some of your time in the war?” She knew he’d rather not. But how could she understand him completely if she didn’t know? He knew all about her and her family, including the worst.
He hesitated before nodding. “I will.”
“Thank you.” His agreement warmed her, returning her hope.
“Charlotte, I—” The abrupt halt to what he’d been about to say caught her curiosity.
“What is it?”
“Never mind. I will be back in touch soon.” He kissed her again, the feel of his firm lips against hers warming her as nothing else could. “I’ll watch to make certain you return inside safely.”
“Good night, James.” She turned away with reluctance, the candle still in hand. The idea of spending every moment of the rest of her life with him filled her with a longing so sharp that her breath caught. They simply had to find a way to convince her father that they belonged together.
~*~
Late the following morning, James knocked on the door of Wynn House. While he held faint hope for a successful outcome, he was determined. If this meeting didn’t go well, he would simply try again. He didn't pretend to understand why the earl favored Lord Samuelson as a husband for Charlotte, but James preferred to think he compared well with the other man.
The butler greeted him warmly, hiding his surprise when James asked to see Lord Wynn.
“Allow me to see if he's at home.” Gordon showed him to the small reception room just off the entrance hall where James resisted the urge to pace.
Though tempted to ask if Edward and Charlotte were home, he resisted. Seeing either of them would only distract him from his purpose. He waited only a few short minutes when the butler returned.
“His lordship will see you now.”
James followed the servant to Lord Wynn’s study, waiting as Gordon opened the door to announce him.
James had told himself numerous times that he wasn't nervous about this meeting, but now that he was here, tension tightened his entire body. He dearly wanted Charlotte in his life and the man sitting behind the desk—who didn't even bother to rise to greet him—stood in his way.
“Good morning, Lord Wynn.” James bowed. “I hope the day finds you well.”
“Well enough.” The older man gestured toward a chair before the desk. “I was surprised to learn you wished to speak with me.” He placed his elbows on the polished desk and steepled his fingers. “What is it you seek?”
So much for polite conversation, James thought.
“As you know, Edward and I have been friends for many years now,” he began. “In the past few weeks, I have had a chance to speak with Lady Charlotte on several occasions and have grown fond of her. I should very much like your permission to c
ourt her.”
“Is that so?” Lord Wynn frowned, his bushy brows nearly hiding his eyes. “That won’t be possible. She will soon be betrothed to Lord Samuelson. The agreement is nearly complete.”
James’ stomach sank despite the fact that the news was unsurprising. “I respectfully ask you to reconsider. I believe I could provide a good life for Charlotte, and I care a great deal for her.”
“That is all well and good. However, I'm certain you are aware that isn’t a basis for marriage.”
“I disagree.” James refused to hold back his opinion. “I believe if you spoke with Charlotte, she would welcome my suit.” He didn't bother to say that she had no desire to marry Lord Samuelson. Her father already knew that and didn't seem to care.
“What Charlotte wants is of little consequence.”
“May I ask why?”
“Why what?”
James clenched his jaw. He had many questions but doubted he would receive answers to any of them. “What does Lord Samuelson have that I don't?”
There had to be something. A reason Lord Wynn was so determined to see his daughter married to Samuelson.
“No, you may not ask. Now if that is all, I have other issues requiring my attention.” The earl leaned back in his chair.
Left with no choice, James stood. “I'm sorry you feel that way. I have no doubt that I would make a better husband for Charlotte than Samuelson. It’s unfortunate that you don't see the situation in the same light.”
He turned on his heel and left, relieved not to see Edward or Charlotte on his way out. He needed time to think of another approach before speaking with Charlotte. Otherwise, he feared she would give up.
That was something he refused to do.
~*~
“What if...” Margaret’s eyes narrowed as she studied the various ribbons and feathers displayed at the haberdashery.
“What if what?” Charlotte glanced between the decorative items and Margaret, hoping her friend was thinking of something other than how best to embellish a hat.
Gordon had mentioned that James had called on her father earlier in the day. Shortly after that, her father had sent for her and ordered her not to see James from this point forward.
Her protests had fallen on deaf ears. Charlotte had left in tears and returned to her bedchamber before at last sending a message to Margaret, requesting her to meet her at their favorite haberdashery on Bond Street.
Charlotte had no desire to shop, but it was the best way to speak with her friend. She’d shed a few more tears as she told Margaret that James had called and what her father had told her.
“What if you simply step out onto the terrace at the next ball with James?” Margaret turned to Charlotte and touched her arm. “I’ll make certain to be there and will advise your mother that you’re missing and bring her outside where we would find the two of you alone. Viscount Redmond would then be forced to propose and you’d accept. Simple.” She gave a single nod as if her plan was completely logical.
Charlotte shook her head. “Do you think I haven’t already thought of something similar?” The idea was tempting but felt wrong.
“Then what is the problem?”
“I don’t want our future to begin with deception. Causing a scandal would hurt too many.”
“Like who?” Margaret lifted a spool of ribbon and held it closer to the window as if to better see the color.
“My mother. Me. James. Edward. Lord Samuelson.”
“Are you quite serious?” Margaret frowned as she looked back at Charlotte. “You’re adding him to the list?”
“I don’t want to harm anyone with my behavior. I only want to be with James.” She sniffed, hoping not to cry again.
“I’m not certain you can have one without the other given the situation.” Margaret returned the spool to the basket. “You do remember that Caroline began her life with Aberland all because of a moment alone on a terrace with him. Never mind that he was questioning her on a completely different topic. Look at how lovely their marriage is.”
“True.” She adored hearing the tale of the Earl and Countess of Aberland’s journey to love. “But that was more a situation where fate stepped in rather than your sister forcing circumstances to her benefit.”
“Hmm. I see your point.” Margaret moved farther into the store, examining various items with a critical eye while Charlotte followed, her thoughts on anything but bonnets and hats.
When Charlotte realized the shop clerk watched them closely, she paused to feign interest in a straw bonnet only to have Margaret take it from her and put it back. “That one isn’t a good style for you.”
“Really?” Charlotte studied the bonnet, wondering why. Then again, Margaret’s taste in such things was impeccable. “Anyway, I don’t know what to do now.”
“It seems at the very least that you should continue to be a thorn in your father’s side about it.”
“I suppose.” As much as Charlotte didn’t want to argue with him, and in fact, would prefer to avoid him, Margaret was right. “Otherwise, he will think I am resigned to his plan.”
“Exactly. He might attempt to hurry things along.”
“I certainly don’t want that.” Her stomach dropped at the thought. “Perhaps I should speak with Mother again as well so that she understands how much I detest Lord Samuelson. I’ll visit with Edward too.”
Margaret scoffed. “Why bother?” At Charlotte’s puzzled look, she added, “It seems as if he isn’t concerned about your predicament. What sort of brother acts like that?”
“I suppose he feels nearly as helpless as I do to protest Father’s plans, considering doing so has never worked in the past.”
“But he’s his only son and heir.”
“Men are often times as bound by duty as women. Especially when one is the heir.”
Margaret pondered her words for a long moment. “I will attempt to refrain from judgment, but I am still bothered by his lack of action on your behalf.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte truly appreciated Margaret’s unwavering support. She knew there had been times in the past when Edward had railed against their father to no avail. He’d given up in most respects, living his life with as little involvement with Lord Wynn as possible. “Families are complicated, aren’t they?”
“On that, we agree,” Margaret said decisively. “What do you intend to do?”
“Other than continue to protest as you suggested, I don’t know. And I thought to speak plainly with Lord Samuelson at the first opportunity.”
“Hmm. That will not please your father.”
“Good.” Perhaps that was one way to make him realize how determined she was to share a life with James. Any other option was unbearable to consider.
Chapter Eighteen
James smiled with satisfaction as he left the Earl of Granger’s registry office the following afternoon. The entire day had been a productive one. In all honesty, he hadn't felt this good in a long time with the exception of the hours he spent with Charlotte.
Earlier in the day, he’d joined his father at the barrister's office for a lengthy meeting. They had gone over the estates, tenants, and holdings in great detail until James’ head had spun. No wonder his father was anxious for him to become involved. There was much to be done and a few significant improvements to be made. He’d thought assisting his father with what he expected to be mundane work would be less than appealing, but now he realized his father truly needed help.
The meeting had been an unwelcome reminder that Lord Redmond was indeed growing older and soon wouldn't be able to easily deal with all the decisions and details required to manage his holdings. The sense of purpose that now filled James helped to compensate for it, along with his father’s pleasure in having him involved.
His father seemed eager to consult with him on everything regarding the holdings. He advised the barrister to keep James apprised of the plans they made from this point forward.
To hell with James’ cousin, Marcus. He would have to find his own path. James was claiming what was rightfully his.
Pride had filled him at the pleased surprise on his father’s face when he shared the success of the investments he’d made since his return. Both his father and the barrister had been impressed with his results.
A few costly improvements needed to be made on their country estate—ones that might take years to see the return on and which his father had been reluctant to make. But with James’ help and a few of his suggestions, they could make the changes immediately before the price to do so rose.
After enjoying luncheon with his mother and father at their home, he had left to meet Granger and his men at the registry office, almost wishing he hadn’t promised to go.
Speaking with Thomas Barnaby and Stanley Polton, his former men, had resulted in a mix of emotions. The sight of the empty pant legs where their limbs were missing filled James with sorrow and guilt, making him wonder once again why he’d returned home without injuries.
But those feelings slowly faded as they’d spoken. They’d been pleased to see him. When he praised their decision to take on apprenticeships, both beamed. One confessed how difficult life had been since his return home before he discovered the registry office.
“There were days when I didn't want to get out of bed,” Barnaby said, his dark eyes filled with shadows.
“It was easier to hide in a bottle,” Polton added. “Anything was better than facing life without my leg and feeling like only half a man.”
Much to his surprise, James found himself sharing some of his own difficulties, including his reluctance to talk about his time in battle.
Both men agreed that speaking of it with family often made them feel worse. They were afraid their loved ones would look at them differently. However, sharing a few stories with fellow soldiers provided some comfort.
“It helps to know we're not alone.” Barnaby sighed. “And to know we don't belong in Bedlam. At times, I felt as if a dark hole were swallowing me with each day that passed.”
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