by Bree Wolf
Closing her eyes, Charlotte took a deep breath. Although she held no hope in her heart for herself, she prayed that Kenneth would not suffer for his gallant heart. Who knew of what else Northfield was capable?
“What is going on, Charlotte?” Kenneth asked, his warm eyes searching her face as he held his handkerchief pressed to her wounded hand. “What just happened?” The look in his eyes told her that he was not referring to her bleeding hand.
Swallowing, Charlotte forced a smile on her face. “Nothing.” She shook her head, unable to look him in the eyes and lie. “Everything’s fine. Let me just go and take care of this.” Withdrawing her hand from his, she stepped around him and hastened toward the door before he could object.
Tears burned in her eyes, but she held them back until the solitude of the corridor engulfed her. Then the dam burst, and all the pain and misery of the past fortnight poured down her cheeks.
Unable to hold back the agonising sobs that tore from her throat, Charlotte fled through the first door she could find and retreated to the very back of the library, hoping that the distance would drown out her sobs. With hands curled into fists, she leant back against a tall bookshelf, resting her head against its precious volumes, before her knees gave in and she sagged to the ground.
Then she heard the door open and footsteps approach.
Instantly, Charlotte froze, her sobs stuck in her throat as images of that one fateful night flashed before her eyes and her heart doubled over in pain. Not again! Her mind screamed, and she pushed herself to her feet. Had he come after her as he had then?
“Charlotte? Are you in here?”
For the second time that night, Kenneth’s voice washed over her strained nerves and put them at ease.
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte swallowed as her heart hammered in her chest. “I’m here,” she whispered, all strength gone from her body.
Footsteps echoed closer, and then Kenneth stood before her, his dark eyes searching her face. “Tell me what’s going on? What did he do?”
Averting her eyes, Charlotte shook her head. “Nothing,” she insisted in a feeble voice as she could not bear the thought of him looking at her the way her parents had. Not him. Not Kenneth. She needed him to look at her the way he always had. Only then did she stand a chance to come out of this with her soul intact.
As she tried to step around him, his hand settled on her shoulder and held her back…and Charlotte loved him for it. For knowing her so well. For being able to tell that something was wrong. For wanting to help her.
His other hand settled under her chin and gently tilted up her head. “Look at me,” he whispered, and when she finally did, a soft smile curled up his lips. “Tell me, and I will protect you.”
Wishing with all her heart that he could, Charlotte felt herself begin to tremble. “You cannot. There’s no way. You have to let me go.”
The expression in his eyes hardened. “Let me be the judge of that,” he said, his voice insistent. “Tell me. Did he say something to upset you? You’ve been acting strange for the past fortnight. Ever since the night of Lord Radcliffe’s ball, you’ve been…” His voice trailed off as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The way he spoke to you…” His eyes drilled into hers. “What did he do to you?”
Blinking back fresh tears, Charlotte shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. I−”
A strangled growl rose from Kenneth’s throat as he stepped back, his hands balling into fists. Pacing the floor in front of her, he clenched and unclenched his hands, occasionally running them through his hair as though trying to pull them out by the roots. His eyes were dark and threatening, and the pulse in his neck hammered with such speed that Charlotte feared for him. Never had she seen him in such a rage.
Then he stopped his frantic pacing and came to stand in front of her, holding her gaze for a long time as though needing one final confirmation. Then he spun around on his heels and stormed toward the door. “I’ll kill him. I swear to God I’ll kill him.”
At his words, panic seized Charlotte’s heart and she rushed after him. “No. No. No. Please, don’t,” she pleaded, reaching for his arm and pulling him back to face her. “Please, I beg you. Don’t do this.”
Looking down at her, his eyes searched her face, confusion mingling with the rage so clearly edged in his features. “Why not? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go out there and challenge him.”
“Because he’ll kill you,” Charlotte sobbed, knowing her words to be true. “Believe me. He doesn’t fight fair. If you get in his way, he will kill you. And I’d rather marry him than lose you. You’re the only one who−”
“Marry him?” Kenneth’s eyes bulged. “Are you out of your mind? After what he did to you, why would you even consider−?”
“Because my father insists on it.” Swallowing, Charlotte looked into his eyes, remembering the moment she had gone to her parents for help, certain that they would protect her.
She had never been more wrong.
“What?” Disbelief written all over his face, Kenneth stared at her. “Why?”
As her hands began to tremble, Kenneth reached for her and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight until her body began to still. “He said,” Charlotte began, remembering the look of disappointment on her father’s face, “that I should not have allowed him to take advantage of me.” As fear surged to the surface, she lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes pleading. “But I…I didn’t. I tried to stop him. Believe me.” Agonising sobs tore from her throat as she pleaded her case. “Please, believe me. I tried. I−”
Once more, Kenneth lifted her head and made her look at him. “I never thought I’d say this,” he forced out through clenched teeth, and Charlotte’s heart stopped, terrified to see him turn against her…just as her parents had, “but your father is not the kind of man I thought him to be.” He swallowed, raw emotions underneath his calm exterior. “You,” he looked deep into her eyes, imploring her to believe him, “have done nothing wrong. Do you hear me? This is not your fault. None of it!”
Closing her eyes, Charlotte sagged against his shoulder, and once again, his arms held her tight.
Until that moment, she hadn’t realised how desperately she had needed someone to believe her, to not accuse her of wrongdoing, but to stand by her side…even if there was nothing he could do to help.
“Look at me,” he said once again, and she opened her eyes. Holding her gaze, he smiled, “Marry me.”
Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. “What?”
“Marry me,” he repeated, “and I swear I’ll protect you. That man will never lay a hand on you again.”
At his offer, a faint hope began to blossom in her heart, but Charlotte immediately crushed it. “No, I can’t let you do that. You can’t−”
“That is for me to decide,” he insisted, his gaze unwavering. “Your parents demand that you marry him to avoid a scandal, is that not so?”
Swallowing, Charlotte nodded.
“Then marry me instead,” Kenneth said, his warm hands wrapped around her chilled fingers. “If all they care about is to avoid a scandal, then marry me.” Holding her gaze, he nodded. “This is the choice you have: either I go out there and kill that bastard,” the muscles in his jaw tensed, and he swallowed, “or you marry me and give me every right to protect you from him.”
“But−"
“It’s either or,” he interrupted. “And don’t for a moment think that you can talk me out of it.”
Surprised beyond comprehension, Charlotte stared up at him; yet, deep down, she had known that he would be her only hope. She had been so afraid for him to find out, not because she’d feared he wouldn’t believe her, but because she’d known that he would sacrifice himself to save her.
A soft smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. “Marry me,” he said once again, and Charlotte wished she had the strength to refuse him.
Read on!
Overview
Love’s Second Chance Series
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Overview
A Forbidden Love Novella Series
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