Charlotte

by Virginia Taylor

  “Oh.” Charlotte assumed her scatter-brained expression. “Is that what it was? I opened it by mistake and, heavens, I thought it was for me.” She waved the letter like a fan. “Thank you, Vera. No harm done. My husband will never know I’ve discovered his dastardly secret.”

  Vera left, grinning. Charlotte sat with the note that a woman in love with Nick had given to Harvey to deliver surreptitiously. Finally, she left for the drawing room. When she had finished discussing the weekly menus with the housekeeper, she sat for some minutes with her hands clasped. Better the devil she knew. She sprang to her feet, hurried up the stairs, and opened the blank envelope again.

  With shaking hands and her heart in her stomach, she read:

  You know I am insane about you. Would I put up with your behavior were I not? My jealousy was unfounded and unreasonable. I know you have to be seen with your wife occasionally and, in future, I’ll not say a word.

  Believe me, repenting my temper, I am ready to make amends any way you so choose. Unless I hear otherwise, I’ll expect to see you as usual tomorrow.

  Your Beth.

  P.S. The dressmaker’s bill arrived. You’ll be pleased to know that the red gown only cost five pounds.

  With icy hands, Charlotte lowered herself into Nick’s brown velvet chair, grasping the worn pile on the arms. He’d told her he had finished with Beth when he had married. Judging by the letter, they’d merely had a recent spat. She shivered, swaying forward over crossed arms.

  Although she didn’t want to say the words to herself, and especially not to him, she loved Nick, possibly had from the day he’d been struck unconscious and feverishly calling for forgiveness, or possibly she’d loved him the night, proud and lonely, he had agreed to marry her to keep his secret, the secret that didn’t exist. Instead, he’d married her to get her baby, which ironically also didn’t exist.

  She put her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes tight. She’d been so foolish. She didn’t know a thing about men. She’d been trapped by Nick’s kindness to her cousin, by his unthinking generosity, by his cynical amusement, and his gradual changes of heart. She had hoped that one day he would care for her, too. But he’d lied to her. He only used her for his own ends.

  Perhaps she was being too quick to judge. He lied rarely, he said.

  She stood and examined her face in the mirror, the face that others praised so highly without seeing the woman behind the features, the woman who disliked putting herself forward and detested being judged by how she looked. Somehow Nick had learned to accept his looks, though he wasn’t any more above using them than she was. He had also given her an opportunity to be someone other than a decoration, a caring and efficient wife.

  She had to be fair; she had to give Nick a chance to explain. Although her eyes ached, she put the note back into the envelope and placed Nick’s letter back onto his mail tray.

  * * * *

  Nick wanted to renovate the workers’ cottages on the property in the hills where these days his father ran an apple orchard. Originally, the place had been built for respite during the summer heat, but his father was a natural businessman. In recent years, the orchard had expanded to a commercial size. Better accommodation would keep the itinerate workers longer. For the past week, Nick hadn’t had an alcoholic drink, and he’d spent the day in his father’s offices on Rundle Street putting the costs together. He pounded up the stairs to his sitting room.

  Charlotte’s bedroom door stood open. Pleased with himself, he strode over, greeted by the sight of his exquisite wife standing in front of her mirror brushing her thick hair. She wore a corset and petticoats, and she looked delectable. “If this is the outfit you plan to wear for dinner, I think we should have dinner in the bedroom.” He raised his eyebrows.

  She turned, twisting her hair into the long roll that with a few more turns made a frame for the back of her lovely neck. “We’re engaged for an evening at the Hendersons’. Cards and dancing for the younger set.” Soft tendrils caressed her lovely face.

  “I’ll need to change.”

  She stabbed a few lethal-looking pins through the knot and turned to the dull red gown laid out on her bed. With a sensuous wriggle, she pulled the draped confection up over her hips. The color of her gown enhanced the perfect white of her skin. She arranged herself into her bodice and settled her heavy skirts. Nick automatically moved over to hook the back. When he finished, he brushed a kiss over her delicate nape, noticing her light rose scent.

  After a glance at her face in the mirror, he pressed another kiss to the lobe of her ear.

  “What do you do at your club?” she asked, wriggling away.

  “These days I mainly use the gymnasium.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “I enjoy the exercise. Why?”

  “Four hours is a long time to spend exercising.”

  He shrugged. “I socialize as well.”

  She leaned closer to the mirror and primped the low shoulders of her gown. “Thomas put out your evening suit.”

  Reluctantly, he backed to her doorway. Like most women when bent on a plan, she could be single-minded. “Right. Time for me to change.”

  “I put your mail in your room, too.”

  “You spoil me, my pretty peony.”

  “I wonder if perhaps I do.” She angled her head sideways and screwed on a jet earring, concentrating deeply on her already faultless appearance.

  Dismissed, he left. Ten or more letters sat on his bedside table. He opened the first, tossed the envelope into his waste bin, and left the bill flattened on the table. The second had not been addressed. He read Beth’s epistle, sighed, and glanced at his waste bin. However, self-preservation made him tuck her note and a wad of money into his evening jacket pocket. He’d been remiss. Although he’d ended his association with Beth, he still needed to settle her bills, as per her reminder.

  Squaring his shoulders, he presented himself back in Charlotte’s doorway. “It seems I have a previous engagement. Make my apologies to the Hendersons, would you? I’ll arrange for Harvey to bring me along later.”

  “Of course,” she answered, choosing a black-beaded evening bag from her drawer. “You’re not needed. This is mainly a function Sarah wanted to attend.”

  Noting her disinterest, he stood, hesitant. She turned, smiling gloriously at him, and with a lighter heart, he buttoned his jacket and departed.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, Nick arrived in the stately, over-decorated, dark green drawing room of his hostess, Laura Henderson. Mrs. Henderson had presented her youngest daughter last year, at which time Nick had only recently returned to the family fold. She had not invited him to her function then, very wise, for he didn’t enjoy innocents.

  “I thought this might be a trifle tame for you.” Mrs. Henderson, an experienced sophisticate, indicated the room filled with the usual respectable set, gossiping, balancing plates of food, or sipping delicately at sherry. The youngsters would be dancing in the adjoining room as indicated by the sound of feet pounding to the dirge of a piano and a few strings.

  “Marriage has reformed me,” he said, smiling lightly.

  Her expression politely disbelieving, she indicated a room to the right. “You’ll find your wife in the card room.”

  An alarm bell rang in his head. Alerted, he strode into a comfortable room set up with five or six small tables where Charlotte sat enthroned at a table for four, attended by three fawning courtiers.

  “Nick.” She lifted her head, and the flickering gaslight made mysterious shadows on the stark purity of her face.

  He moved behind her and kissed her cheek, glancing at her cards. She had a good hand.

  “No room here,” said one of the gentlemen, Delemore, barely moving his gaze from his cards. “Find another table. Oh, it’s you, Alden.”

  “I’m not playing. I’m here to bear my wife off.”

  “I can’t leave now,” Charlotte said, with a charmingly innocent smile. “I’m
restoring your fortune.”

  He started to sweat. “No need, my precious. I haven’t lost a penny.”

  “Nor has she. The damndest luck,” said a good-looking male in his early twenties.

  She glanced at Nick. “Have you met Mr. Eglinton?”

  The man nodded at Nick. “The lucky husband, I presume. Not only is your wife beautiful, she’s an expert card player. I expect I’ll leave tonight with empty pockets.” He aimed a long intimate glance at Charlotte.

  “Oh, dear. You’re begging for mercy,” she said with a great fluttering of eyelashes. “Now what shall I do?”

  She gave a smile that exposed two dimples Nick had never noticed before. “I suggest you turn in that appalling hand of yours before anyone asks to see it,” he said, hooding his gaze. “I have an urgent desire to dance with you.”

  She turned to stare at him. “I’ll finish this hand first. Do sit, Nick. Your face is making everyone nervous.”

  He moved back, wishing he’d given her pause by describing her good hand as appalling. Though perhaps because she always beat him, she thought he didn’t know a good hand from a bad one. With her lips in a pretty pout, she not only made fast work of the game but also managed to lose most of the money stacked in front of her. Relieved, he bore her off to the ballroom.

  “You’re open game, you know,” he said as he took her into a waltz.

  “And you know I play quite well.” She gazed around the room as she danced with him, smiling and nodding at almost everyone.

  “That’s not quite my meaning,” he said slowly. “You’re a married woman, and you were flirting with those three gentlemen. Each would have let you win.”

  “I don’t allow people to let me win. I win only on my merits.” Her perfect jaw firmed.

  “Again, we’re talking at cross purposes. Each of those gentlemen was more interested in tossing you onto your back than tossing in their hand.”

  At last, her gaze met his. “As your wife I need to know how to entertain myself and so I began tonight.”

  His head ached. Not only had he needed to sort out Beth’s overdue accounts, he’d also had a raging argument with her as he’d tried to leave. To say the least, he’d experienced an unpleasant end to a successful day. “I see. I was late, and I’m being punished.”

  She sighed. “Nick, I’ve been to more functions without you than with you. I’m simply telling you that I meet very pleasant people whose company I enjoy.”

  “Mr. Eglinton being one.”

  “He’s also very handsome. I like flirting with handsome men.”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t share my women.”

  “How strange. I expect they don’t want to share you either. And now, if you don’t mind, I promised this next dance to Luke.” She stopped with the music and was swung back onto the floor by Luke, who had apparently been waiting behind him with Sarah.

  “How lovely to see you here, Nick.” Sarah looked anything but pleased as she watched Luke leave. “There he goes again, pattering after Charlotte like a good little lap dog. I don’t know why she bothers to pat him occasionally. It only brings him back for more.”

  “Perhaps you would honor me?” He held out an arm to Sarah, who accepted and proceeded to comment on Luke’s pathetic behavior.

  “Are all the functions I miss as boring as this one?” he asked, now completely annoyed.

  “This one is particularly dull. I don’t have any objection to leaving early. Though, Charlotte looks as though she could dance all night.”

  He waited with her for the set to finish, and then he took the two ladies home. The conversation in the carriage was desultory, and Charlotte said not a word to him after they entered their sitting room. Smiling politely, she walked to her bedroom and shut her door.

  Eyes narrowed, he strode to his own room and slammed his door. Like too many women, his wife assumed sexual intimacy with him meant she could govern his every move. He tossed his jacket into the corner. Perhaps she intended to manipulate him by withholding her favors, but a man couldn’t chase after a woman who wanted complete control over him. Strange. She hadn’t seemed like the controlling type, which was possibly why their marriage had been strengthening day by day. And, reminded, he couldn’t say he knew her character at all.

  Tony had been investigating her. The time had come to ask his findings.

  Chapter 15

  Charlotte put off her early ride, washed, and dressed for breakfast. Gossip had always been perfunctory while the gentlemen read their papers, but this day Nick kept his beside his plate. He and she greeted each other politely, and she served herself a coddled egg. She wouldn’t be her mother, waiting until all hope was lost. Sarah kept up a running commentary on world affairs and the doings of her set, one and the same in her opinion.

  Automatically, Nick bent to kiss Charlotte before leaving for wherever he had decided to go. She turned her face slightly, leaving his mouth to brush her ear. She saw impatience on his face, and she hardened her heart. A conjugal relationship based on convenient lies and physical attraction was not enough for her.

  After completing her meal, she returned to her room and dressed in her newly tailored burgundy riding habit, adding a firmly planted citrus pillbox hat with a burgundy net bow. Pulling on chamois gloves, she went to Sarah’s door. “Would you like to join me for a ride?”

  “You know I can’t keep up with you.”

  “It’s too late in the day for me to take a gallop. I’ll be riding sedately in the park and greeting every other rider.”

  “That sounds desperately boring.”

  “It’s as boring as you want to make it. I’ve been trying to show myself off as a respectable young matron, which I need to do if I want to advance you in society.”

  Sarah scrutinized her expression. “You are in a bad mood. You only needed to ask if you wanted me to go with you.”

  Within five minutes, dressed neatly in a dark brown outfit and a hat comprising curling blue flowers, she joined Charlotte, who instead of collecting her own horse, asked the stable boy to bring their mounts to the front door. She and Sarah rode off to the park.

  Those with social pretensions rode by, greeting others and stopping to gossip. After they’d smiled their heads off in every direction and spoken to those few who Charlotte knew, Sarah said in a dire tone, “Oh, no. What bad luck. How do you do, Mr. Worthing? Shouldn’t you be occupying yourself in court?”

  “I’m a solicitor, not a barrister, Miss Page, and my office opens at ten.” He pulled a fob watch from his pocket and checked the time. “I will be there in half an hour or so. Good morning, Charlotte.”

  “Good morning, Luke. I’m sure you have Sarah’s permission to call her by her first name.”

  “Not any longer,” Sarah said with a jut of her bottom lip.

  He ignored her and glanced at Charlotte. “Why do you look put out today?”

  “Perhaps because I missed my early morning exercise.” She patted Red Robin’s neck.

  “Perhaps you merely look more married.”

  “Which you would see as a reason to be disgruntled.” She gave him a happily married smile, bright and wide.

  “Except you’re married to Nick, which would be pure bliss,” Sarah said. “You’re the luckiest woman in the world.”

  Luke shrugged. “I suspect being married to him is about as blissful as being one of his friends.”

  Charlotte held his gaze. “So you must feel very lucky, too.”

  “Not quite. He was the man who won you,” he said with a shrug.

  With no answer to that, Charlotte readjusted her reins, preparing to move off.

  “Quite the spurned suitor, aren’t you?” Sarah said to him, tight-lipped. “Let’s say the better man won. Nick adores Charlotte, and he is a wonderful husband.”

  “I’m sure he is a very indulgent husband. He loves women, all women, young, old, smart, silly, pretty, or plain.”

  A warm flush of
shame colored Charlotte’s cheeks. Men stuck together. Luke knew about Nick’s infidelity. “I’m sure I feature somewhere on your long list.”

  His shoulders lifted. “You’re the woman he married. Of course you do. I never thought he would be interested in you, which is why I didn’t see what was going on under my nose.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be interested in me?”

  Luke raised his brows. “You’re beautiful, not simply pretty, and Nick doesn’t worry about looks. He has enough of his own.”

  “Jealousy, jealousy,” Sarah said in an acid voice. “You are saying he’s vain.”

  Luke raised his square hand as if for peace. “He doesn’t care how he looks. That’s easy when nature has endowed him not only with the looks of a Greek god, but with brains and charm. If only the good Lord would endow him with red hair for one day of his life.”

  Sarah gave him a rap on the knuckles with her crop. “How ungallant. You might not like your hair, and with good reason, but mine is my crowning glory.”

  He stared at Sarah as if he had never noticed she, too, had reddish hair. “Beautiful people are greatly advantaged and don’t understand that the less beautiful have to strive harder, behave more nobly, and watch their tongues.”

  Sarah gasped.

  “You say I’m beautiful,” Charlotte said, carefully. “Do you think I don’t try hard or behave nobly?”

  Luke hesitated. “I think you accept your advantages, yes, and I also think you should open your eyes and deal with the realities.” He tipped his hat and rode off.

  “I said he was a brute.” Sarah gave a smug smile. “He as good as told you, his perfect woman, that you’re shallow.”

  “I certainly haven’t proved I’m anything else.” Charlotte blinked and swallowed hard. Luke’s advice, although unwelcome, bolstered her belief that Nick would never have the same feelings for her as she had for him. “I can’t change the way I look, and I wouldn’t want to, but I can try harder.”

  “To do what?” Sarah sent her a quick, suspicious glance.