To Warm A Wintered Heart (Regency Romance)

by Deborah M. Hathaway

  “It is quite exciting,” Mrs. Worthington said, her eyes bright, “as lively as London with much to enjoy, including shops, walks, and theatrical performances of a very high standard. My husband and I used to enjoy attending the theater every visit there.”

  “How delightful that must have been,” Charlotte said.

  Mrs. Seabrook excused herself at the bidding of her daughters across the room, and only after the woman left did Charlotte notice the excited look spreading across Mrs. Worthington’s face.

  “You know, I have just thought of a most wonderful idea,” she said. “Miss Rosebury, you must come stay at Greyston Hall. You could travel with us when we depart from Brightwood in a few days, though, you would not have much time to prepare.”

  Charlotte smiled at Mrs. Worthington, but before she could even think of a response, the woman continued.

  “We could visit York then, attend the theater, perhaps, as well as see all the sights around Loxley. You would even be present for the fifth of November, and we have one of the largest bonfires in the county. Oh, do say you will come.”

  Glancing to her mother, who merely smiled at her in return, Charlotte said, “Thank you for the invitation, but I should not like to impose.”

  “Oh, nonsense,” Mrs. Worthington said. “You would be doing me a kindness, for leaving Brightwood would be far less painful for me knowing you would be my companion.”

  Charlotte paused. “Well, I cannot consent if my mother does not agree.”

  “I have no objection at all,” Mrs. Rosebury responded before both women stared expectantly at Charlotte.

  “Well,” Charlotte began, glancing down at her hands in her lap, “you are quite certain Mr. Worthington would not object to my joining you?”

  “Oh, heavens, no!” Mrs. Worthington exclaimed. “You two have become friends, after all, have you not? In fact, I am certain he shall be relieved to have you with us, for then my constant chattering may finally be focused elsewhere.”

  Charlotte smiled, but still she fought with uncertainty.

  Will Mr. Worthington truly not mind? she wondered, her courage growing.

  “Very well,” she said, “I should be glad to accept your invitation. That is, if your son has no objections.”

  Mrs. Worthington clapped her hands. “Oh, splendid! I am so looking forward to it!”

  Charlotte listened half-heartedly to Mrs. Worthington’s enlivened words, for a foreboding feeling within her heart replaced any anticipation she might have felt.

  A quarter of an hour later, the gentlemen joined them, and when Gabriel moved to stand next to his mother with a small nod in Charlotte’s direction, she could not help but look away as her mind filled with guilt.

  “Gabriel,” Mrs. Worthington said, turning to him at once with a wide grin, “I have the most wonderful news to share with you. Miss Rosebury is to return with us to Greyston Hall!”

  Charlotte glanced up to watch Gabriel expectantly, but her heart plummeted to see his lips set into a firm line.

  “Well,” he said after what seemed an eternity had passed, “I am certain you are looking forward to having Miss Rosebury as your companion.”

  “That is just what I said, what is not, Miss Rosebury?”

  As Mrs. Worthington began to spout off possible plans for their time together, only Charlotte seemed to notice Gabriel discreetly leaving their side to stare out of a nearby window, and her cheeks burned red.

  Why did I accept her offer before even consulting Mr. Worthington? she thought, and as Gabriel maintained his distance, her dismay increased until, at last, the dinner party came to an end.

  Upon returning to Brightwood, Charlotte made her way directly to Julia’s room, and after knocking lightly upon her door, she whispered, “Are you awake?” before awaiting a response.

  “Of course,” came Julia’s reply soon after. “Come in.”

  Charlotte entered the room and smiled at her younger sister, but Julia’s grin vanished the moment their eyes met.

  “What has happened?” she asked.

  With a great sigh, Charlotte slumped onto Julia’s bed and buried her face into her hands.

  “I was invited to stay with the Worthingtons,” she mumbled through her fingers, “and I accepted.”

  Julia gasped. “That is wonderful news! Why are you unhappy?”

  Charlotte raised her head with another sigh before recounting the evening, and Gabriel’s words, to her sister, regretting her decision yet again.

  “Mr. Worthington paused for so long after his mother told him,” she said with a fresh blush. “I was absolutely mortified.”

  “But are you certain Mr. Worthington was not just surprised with the news?” Julia asked.

  “Oh, he was certainly surprised,” Charlotte said, “but there was no mistaking the irritation upon his brow. And the worst of it is, I am certain he thinks the arrangement was mine. How am I to stay in his home if he believes such an idea?” She paused for a moment to twirl a strand of her hair around her forefinger before continuing. “But if I withdraw my consent, how could I manage to disappoint Mrs. Worthington? Oh, why did I even accept her offer to begin with?”

  “Yes,” Julia said, “why did you?”

  Charlotte stopped twisting her hair mid-twirl and looked at her sister. “I did not wish to seem ungracious to Mrs. Worthington.”

  Julie eyes narrowed. “Is that your only reason?”

  “Yes,” Charlotte said, though her unconvincing tone was as revealing as the red upon her cheeks.

  She took to twisting her hair again before continuing. “I suppose I ought not be thinking of Mr. Worthington, then, as much as Mrs. Worthington, for at least I may take some comfort in knowing she desires my company.”

  “And perhaps she may even distract you from Mr. Worthington’s miserable countenance,” Julia offered with a cheerful smile.

  “Indeed,” Charlotte agreed, but her hope only lasted until she left Julia’s room, for as she walked through Brightwood’s darkened hallways, she could only dread the prospect of leaving her home for a place she knew she was unwelcome.

  ***

  “Mother, did you invite Miss Rosebury to stay at Greyston?”

  Gabriel stood before his mother in the library, awaiting her response impatiently as she looked up from her book with a pleasant smile upon her lips.

  “Good morning, Gabriel,” she said. “I trust you slept well.”

  Gabriel’s frown grew.

  “Oh, dear,” Mrs. Worthington continued, “it would seem as though you are cross with me once again.”

  His jaw twitched with irritation, and his gaze narrowed, until, at last, Mrs. Worthington set aside her book with a sigh.

  “Of course I did, son,” she said. “You cannot have thought it Miss Rosebury’s idea, could you?”

  He glanced guiltily away before shaking his head. “It matters not. I must ask you, then, why did you invite her?”

  “It is really quite simple,” Mrs. Worthington said with arched eyebrows. “I invited Miss Rosebury to stay with us because I desired her companionship a little while longer.”

  “And you desired her company for only yourself?” he asked with suspicion.

  “Gabriel,” Mrs. Worthington began with a sigh, “I promised you I would not interfere any longer. I assure you, Miss Rosebury has been invited to our home for my sake, and my sake alone.”

  Gabriel’s shoulders relaxed and his defenses lowered as he finally believed his mother’s words.

  “I am sorry to speak to you so angrily with you, Mother,” he said. “I only wish you would have discussed such a delicate matter with me beforehand.”

  “Would it have made any difference?”

  Gabriel frowned. “Have I no say in who stays in our home?”

  “No,” Mrs. Worthington said before laughing to herself. “Oh, Gabriel, do not be so ridiculous. Of course you do.”

  “Then why was I not consulted?”

  Mrs. Worthington continued her words i
n a calm voice. “In truth, I had only just thought of the idea that very evening, and I was so overcome with excitement, I could not wait another moment before asking Miss Rosebury to accept my request.”

  Gabriel’s gaze drifted to where the sunlight poured in through the window, and he muttered, “I am certain she was quick to accept.”

  “Oh, quite the contrary. In truth, she seemed rather hesitant, consenting only if she knew you did not object.”

  Gabriel frowned. “Had you given me the opportunity to consider your offer, I could have shared how much I do object, for now I am forced to play the agreeable host.”

  “Really, son,” Mrs. Worthington said, “would it be so very difficult for you to treat her with kindness, as she does you? She is such an amiable young woman. She will be nothing but—”

  “Trouble,” Gabriel cut in, “nothing but trouble.”

  “Nonsense.”

  He stared at his mother with a skeptical brow. “So you expect I will enjoy her presence at Greyston?”

  “Oh, not at all,” Mrs. Worthington said with a dismissive tone, eying her book as she flipped through the pages. “I expect you to be as miserable as ever. I, however, plan to fully enjoy my time with Miss Rosebury.”

  Gabriel waited for his mother to continue, but when her eyes focused upon her book, indicating the end to their conversation, he left the room with stomping boots and an aggravated sigh.

  After hearing Gabriel’s words end and his footsteps moving to leave the library, Charlotte’s heart pounded in her chest, and she quickly backed down an empty hallway until she was sure she would not be seen by the gentleman who disappeared in the opposite way.

  As her breathing slowed, the exchange she had just overheard returned forefront to her mind, and she frowned to finally know the truth, the truth she had feared all along. Gabriel did not want her at Greyston Hall.

  Then you must decline Mrs. Worthington’s offer, she thought before moving down the hallway to the parlor, there is no other option.

  “Good morning, Charlotte,” Mrs. Rosebury greeted with a smile as Charlotte entered the room, her parents stitching and reading a correspondence. “Julia just left to sketch in the gardens if you wished to join her.”

  “Thank you, Mama,” Charlotte said. “I think I will join her. I only wonder if I could speak first with you both for a moment.”

  “Of course, my dear,” Mrs. Rosebury said, patting the seat next to her upon the sofa. “Do sit here and tell us what is on your mind.”

  “Well,” Charlotte began as she traipsed across the room, noting her father looking up from where he sat behind his desk, “I was thinking I might not go to Greyston Hall after all.”

  Her parents exchanged glances before Charlotte rushed on.

  “It is only logical,” she said, “as Julia will be leaving for France with Aunt and Uncle very soon after my departure. I think it rather unfair if you two were left here alone.”

  Mr. Rosebury moved to sit across from Charlotte and eyed her with a knowing gaze.

  “Furthermore,” she continued, “Julia will be taking Mary with her, as per Aunt’s usual demand, so I shall have no lady’s maid.”

  “Yes, but Mrs. Worthington has already promised you the use of one of her own,” Mrs. Rosebury said with a smile.

  “Oh,” Charlotte said. “Well, I really do feel a sort of tickling in my throat. I would not like to have it spread to the Worthingtons.”

  “Charlotte…” her father began.

  “I know why I mustn’t leave,” she said. “We have a ball to plan for.” Mr. Rosebury shook his head. “No? Well, perhaps I miss you both so terribly I do not think I could leave you, or might I say I have an irrational fear of carriages, or—”

  “My dear,” Mr. Rosebury interrupted, his wrinkled smile causing his brown eyes to shine with mirth, “speak the truth. Why do you truly wish to remain here?”

  Charlotte sighed. “I am certain Mama has already told you of Mr. Worthington’s reaction last evening to the news of my visiting his home.”

  “She has.”

  “Then you know already why I must refuse. He does not think of me as a friend, only a…a burden.”

  “Now, I am certain that is not true,” Mrs. Rosebury said, but Charlotte nodded her head adamantly.

  “It is true,” she said in a raised voice, anger replacing her hurt caused by Gabriel’s words. “How could I have ever chosen to befriend such a horrible man offended by my very presence? I shall think of him no longer, for why should I exhaust my thoughts upon a man who has no admirable trait about him?”

  “Now, Charlotte,” her father began, his words breaking through her rant, “the gentleman has his faults, I daresay, but can you name one of us who does not? We must focus, instead, on the good within him.”

  Charlotte laughed wryly as she stood from her seat to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Mr. Worthington has only coldness and misery within his heart.”

  “And are you not filled with that very coldness now, Charlotte?”

  Her father’s soft words caused her to pause. “Well, if I am, Mr. Worthington is most assuredly the cause,” she muttered.

  “My dear,” her mother said, “some hearts do grow cold with disappointment or grief, infected with negativity and fear, and these feelings can easily extend to another’s heart. This is why you must strive to always maintain your warm smile and happy spirit, to share your kindness with others, for then your own heart will not, cannot, be infected by the same bitterness.”

  Charlotte stood in silence, listening intently to her mother’s words and struggling to maintain her resentment.

  “We trust you will make the right decision concerning Mrs. Worthington’s offer,” he said, “but either way, we will support you.”

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said softly, “both of you. I believe I shall still go to Greyston Hall.”

  “And we think it a fine decision, dear,” Mrs. Rosebury said as Mr. Rosebury nodded.

  “Yes, well,” Charlotte said, making her way to the door, “I only go for Mrs. Worthington’s sake. She must wish for my company as a respite from her son’s deplorable nature. Heaven knows I wish for the very same.”

  Chapter Eight

  The day to depart Brightwood arrived far too quickly for Charlotte’s comfort, and soon, with heavy clouds looming in the sky above, she bade goodbye to her family.

  “Try to enjoy yourself, Charlotte,” Mrs. Rosebury said in a whisper, the Worthingtons too far away to overhear, “and do your best to keep the smile upon your lips.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I will, Mama,” she said before turning to her father. “Goodbye, Papa.”

  “Goodbye, my dear,” he said, wrapping his arms warmly around her. “Should you ever need a thing, write to us, and we shall be at your side in a moment.”

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said, moving on to embrace Julia. “Have a wonderful time in France. Write to me often of your adventures.”

  “I will,” Julia said before glancing in Gabriel’s direction and whispering, “only if you promise to keep me informed of a certain gentleman’s behavior and attitude.”

  Charlotte smiled, but her stomach flipped nervously before she took a step back to allow Mrs. Worthington the opportunity to say her own goodbyes.

  As the woman expressed her sorrow with leaving the Roseburys, Charlotte’s gaze drifted to where Gabriel stood pulling on his riding gloves and shifting his weight in an impatient manner.

  He cannot wait to be rid of Brightwood and my family, she thought bitterly, recalling the past few days spent in miserable silence with the gentleman who, no doubt, dreaded the prospect of Charlotte’s visit as much as she did.

  Before long, the farewells concluded, and they moved to enter the Worthington’s carriage. Charlotte’s brows raised in surprise when Gabriel, after helping his mother up the steps, turned to offer Charlotte the same courtesy. After a moment of hesitation, she finally accepted his hand, but she avoided his gaze altoge
ther until he climbed into the carriage and sat down across from her.

  When the door closed, Charlotte glanced out of the window to see her family calling out their goodbyes, and she waved to them with a heavy heart until the carriage turned down the drive and their smiling faces could no longer be seen.

  “Leaving one’s home is always difficult,” Mrs. Worthington said, reaching forth to pat Charlotte’s knee, “especially with as wonderful a family as your own.”

  Charlotte smiled with gratitude at the woman before catching sight of Gabriel’s eyes upon her, and she frowned and looked away in an instant.

  The carriage continued on in silence while Charlotte imagined sitting in Brightwood’s warm parlor, the fire crackling behind her as her parents smiled over at her and Julia, sharing happy tales with no blue-eyed glares in sight.

  “Well,” Mrs. Worthington said, her voice pulling Charlotte from her musing, “I am quite ready to distract myself from thoughts of missing Brightwood. Might we speak together of something a touch happier?”

  Charlotte nodded with a hopeful smile before Gabriel asked with an indifferent tone, “And what happy matters are there to speak of, Mother?”

  “Well,” she responded, “perhaps we might express how glad we are to have Miss Rosebury with us, for we are, are we not, Gabriel?”

  Charlotte looked away from the rain speckling the carriage window to see Gabriel watching her.

  “I suppose,” he muttered before looking away once again.

  Charlotte’s smile faded away, and her sad thoughts became distant memories as irritation overtook her mind.

  “You must learn to control your enthusiasm, Mr. Worthington,” she said with a pointed stare, “or you may be accused of being too merry. Although, such a charge would be absurd, for no one with a sensible mind would ever describe you as being enthused about anything or anyone excepting yourself.”

  She stared daringly at him until he met her gaze with hardened eyes.

  “I am surprised to hear you speak, Miss Rosebury,” he said. “I thought perhaps leaving your beloved Brightwood might render you mute.”