Charlotte took a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves as she looked to the horses already saddled and standing before her, and her stomach fluttered as she thought of riding with the reins in hand for the first time since her cousin’s passing.
However, she pushed aside her residual fears and nodded to Gabriel, who stood by her side.
“I am ready,” she said.
Gabriel helped her into the saddle before handing her the reins, saying, “You need not worry. I shall be right by your side.”
As Gabriel mounted his own horse, Charlotte felt Horatio shift beneath her, so she relaxed her grip on the reins and sat straighter in her sidesaddle until Gabriel moved forward, and she gingerly urged her horse to follow.
They did not ride far from Greyston Hall, nor did Gabriel ever leave her side, and soon, Charlotte felt her nerves fade away.
The brisk air bit at her cheeks, but the thick cloth of her riding habit, purchased for her by Mrs. Worthington to celebrate Charlotte’s progress, kept her warm, even with the dark clouds above them in the cold, November sky.
She looked beyond to the fields nearby, cold mist settling just above the dewy blades of grass, and a smile crept across her cold lips before she glanced to Gabriel, who sat watching her from upon his dark stallion.
“What is it?” she asked him when he continued to stare.
Gabriel shook his head. “I was merely thinking how pleasant it is to have company while riding.”
“You must have enjoyed Brightwood, then,” she said, “what with my father riding with you nearly every morning.”
“Yes, with his company, I was often reminded of the time I spent riding with my own father and brother.”
“Was your brother as fond of horses as you are?”
“Even more so, and twice as talented in tending to them as our father.”
Charlotte hesitated for a moment, noting Gabriel’s sober expression. “I am sorry to have never made his acquaintance. My parents often spoke very highly of him and your father, alike.” When he did not respond, she continued. “Were the two of you close?”
“Indeed,” he responded, his breath coming out in puffs of warm, white air. “I feared nothing when he was near.”
Charlotte remained silent when he smiled.
“I remember, when I was but fourteen,” Gabriel began, “I was attacked by a group of older boys throwing stones at me. I thought I might defeat them alone, but they overpowered me within an instant, pushing me to the ground.”
Charlotte frowned. “How terrible.”
Gabriel shook his head. “I am afraid I deserved it, for I had spent the day before teasing them about one thing or another, and continued to do so even as they attacked me.”
“I see you have not changed in that regard, Mr. Worthington,” Charlotte said, and they shared a smile before she asked, “However did you manage to escape them?”
“My brother,” Gabriel replied. “I was nearing unconsciousness when he rode up behind them, and the boys immediately scattered.”
“How relieved you must have been to see him.”
“I was, indeed. Afterward, he taught me how to defend myself, for he feared he would not be present each time I needed rescuing. If only I had known earlier the truth to his statement.”
Charlotte’s brows pulled together when she noticed the pain still fresh within his eyes.
“Did you get to say goodbye to him?” she asked carefully.
Gabriel nodded. “Father had died within days of contracting the illness, so when Michael caught the same infirmity, we knew our time was limited.” He paused, shaking his head. “We were warned to not go near him, but Mother and I could not be kept away, as we wished to spend as much time as possible with him, despite the risk.”
“I cannot imagine how difficult that must have been for the both of you.”
Silence filled the air between them apart from the horses snorting into the cold air and hooves walking upon the grass.
“He was engaged.”
Charlotte’s eyes darted back to Gabriel, her brows raising. “Your brother?”
“Yes.”
“I did not know.”
Gabriel nodded, his eyes focusing upon the reins in his gloved hands. “Yes, to Miss Reeves. They knew each other as children, becoming engaged shortly after she reached the age of eighteen, but Michael died a fortnight before their wedding.”
Charlotte’s heart twisted in pain. “However did she cope with such heartache?”
“I do not believe she did, for she hid from society for months. One morning, weeks after my brother’s death, Mother and I called upon her family, and I happened to see her walking past the parlor.”
Gabriel’s stare was blank, his tone void of emotion when he continued.
“I shall never forget her appearance, her skin as gray as any ash, her eyes sunken, all of it so familiar, for my mother shared the same haunted look.” He paused, his eyes becoming so distant, Charlotte wondered if he knew he still spoke aloud. “To see Father and Michael suffer through their illnesses was excruciating, however, their pain ended. For my mother and Miss Reeves, though, their pain, their anguish at never seeing their loved ones again, will never leave. This, this is why I have promised myself to remain—”
Gabriel abruptly ended his words, his eyes darting to Charlotte before quickly looking away, and suddenly, her mind was enlightened.
“This is why you wish to never marry,” she said softly, “so you might not subject another, including yourself, to the pain you have already been witness to.”
His silence confirmed the truth to her statement, and love and compassion swirled within Charlotte’s heart.
Love? she questioned with widened eyes, love for Mr. Worthington?
However, as she looked upon the handsome gentleman, thought of the past weeks spent in his company, her heart swelled within her chest, and she knew.
I do love him, she thought, nearly smiling before her heart twisted in pain, and, oh, how I long for his love in return.
Their silence grew heavy, and with a prayer sent heavenward, she turned her gaze upon him.
“Mr. Worthington,” she began, “I do not believe your decision to be unjustified. Indeed, I cannot say I would not have made the same choice if I had been in your situation, but I…”
Her words trailed off when Gabriel looked at her, his eyes seeming to harden with each passing moment.
“Go on,” he urged when she did not continue, but his deep voice and flat tone caused fear to fill her heart.
“Oh,” she said, “it matters not.”
“What were you were going to say, Miss Rosebury?” he asked, his gaze stalwart as he reined in his horse.
Charlotte pulled Horatio around to face Gabriel directly, and confusion filled her to see his fierce scowl.
“Why are you angry with me?” she asked.
“Tell me what you were to say.”
Charlotte frowned. “I was merely going to state the words you once shared with me, Mr. Worthington, in an attempt to help you.”
“What words?”
She hesitated still but knew he would not relent until she spoke. “I was going to say, ‘a faint heart dies a thousand times before his death, but the valiant taste of death but once.’ ”
“You think me afraid?” Gabriel spat out, nostrils flaring.
“Well, I…No, no, of course not,” she said, unnerved at the sight of his barely-restrained fury. “I merely wished to, well, I wondered if you had ever thought, perhaps, that your father and brother did not regret the time they did spend with their loved ones. And your mother, do you believe she would wish away the time she spent with her husband and son to simply ease her grief?”
“So now you presume to know my family better than I?”
“Of course not, Mr. Worthington. I only thought—”
“No,” Gabriel interrupted, “I do not wish to discuss this further. I think it would be wise for us to return now to Greyston.”
“It is all right, Miss Rosebury,” Gabriel said shortly.
“No, it is not,” she continued. “I should never have assumed—”
“Please,” Gabriel interrupted, sending a frown in her direction, “speak no longer on the issue.”
A cold wind stung Charlotte’s cheeks as she blinked away the tears welling in her eyes, and she nodded.
“Very well, Mr. Worthington. If that is what you wish.”
“It is,” he said, and the two made their way to the stables, Charlotte remaining silent as she prayed for the iciness in Gabriel’s heart to melt away once and for all.
***
“From where do you hail, Mr. Cropp?”
Charlotte half-heartedly listened as the man replied to Mrs. Worthington’s question, the three of them sitting in Greyston Hall’s parlor early one morning.
“I was born in Cheshire,” he replied, and Charlotte fought the urge to grimace when the man’s small eyes once again focused in her direction.
“I believe my son has mentioned visiting there a time or two on business,” Mrs. Worthington said. “It must be lovely.”
“It is,” he agreed, “however, I must admit to enjoying Yorkshire far more, for this county holds many more…beauties.”
Charlotte shifted in her seat so she might not have to see the man watching her any longer, and she thought instead of a pair of light blue eyes, eyes she had not had the pleasure of seeing since her horse ride days before.
Perhaps Mr. Worthington is truly as busy as his mother has said, she thought, but still she feared her own words had been the cause of his absence.
“You seem rather distracted this morning, Miss Rosebury,” Mr. Cropp said. “Do share with us what is on your mind.”
Charlotte glanced to the man’s greasy hair and could not even attempt to muster a smile. “I was merely thinking how cold it has been as of late,” she replied.
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Cropp said, seemingly unaware of Charlotte’s lack of interest in his conversation, “how all ladies despise the cold. Not a day goes by without Miss Bosville or her cousin expressing their hatred for the weather.”
“Are you enjoying your stay with the Bosvilles, Mr. Cropp?” Mrs. Worthington asked, her face filled with even more indifference than Charlotte’s.
“They are a pleasant enough family,” he answered, “though I must admit to desiring more entertaining company than their own, which is why I have called upon you both.”
“And when do you return home?”
“My parents have both encouraged me to stay here as long as Mr. Bosville will allow, though I could not bear the thought of leaving just yet.”
I can only imagine the relief his poor parents must feel in having this man out of their home, she thought bitterly.
“Miss Rosebury, I must say,” Mr. Cropp began, interrupting her thoughts once again, “the dress adorning your body is, I daresay, the most—”
His words ended abruptly when all eyes focused upon the parlor door, footsteps echoing outside of the room until Gabriel entered, and Charlotte’s heart hammered within her chest.
“Good morning, son,” Mrs. Worthington said. “I did not think we would be fortunate enough to see you today.”
Gabriel’s eyes flickered to Charlotte before he responded. “Yes, my business was completed sooner than expected, and I needed to speak with you.”
Silence filled the room as Gabriel again looked to Charlotte, but his eyes soon fell upon Mr. Cropp, who stood nearby.
“Mr. Cropp,” he said, frowning, “I did not see you standing there.”
“I am certain you cannot be blamed, Mr. Worthington,” Mr. Cropp said, a polished smile upon his lips. “After all, who else could be noticed while occupying the same room as these beautiful women, particularly the charming Miss Rosebury. I must say, she and your mother have been quite attentive during my visit here. They have made me feel so very welcome.”
Gabriel grunted in response, and both gentlemen stared at the other until Mrs. Worthington spoke.
“Shall I call for tea, son,” she asked, “or have you elsewhere to be?”
Before Gabriel had the chance to respond, Mr. Cropp took a step forward.
“If you need to speak with your mother alone, sir,” he said, “I am more than willing to entertain Miss Rosebury here for a moment or two. I am certain we could find something with which to occupy our time together.”
Anger flowed throughout Gabriel’s entire body as Mr. Cropp stared at Charlotte with his beady eyes. However, when he saw the look of outright disgust upon Charlotte’s face, a strange relief washed over him.
So she is not pleased with the gentleman calling upon her, he thought before returning his attention to Mr. Cropp.
“I am certain what I have to say to my mother can wait until you leave. Yes, Mother, let us call for tea.”
Gabriel could feel Charlotte smiling over at him, but he forced himself to avoid her gaze, for pride still gripped his heart.
You know she only spoke the truth, he told himself again. This is why you avoid her.
A familiar guilt swirled within his mind, but Gabriel distracted himself by focusing on the anger he felt toward the man still gaping at Charlotte, and he prayed for an end to his visit.
However, for the next hour, Mr. Cropp outstayed his welcome at Greyston Hall, monopolizing the conversation as he spoke of his shooting abilities and the latest hunt he had participated in, all the while unsuccessfully attempting to engage Charlotte, who merely nodded in response to nearly everything.
Just before Gabriel had decided to excuse the gentleman himself, Mr. Cropp sighed and, with a hand placed to his chest, said, “Well, I have had quite a wonderful visit, however, I fear I have agreed to accompany Miss Bosville and Miss Filbee on horseback across the countryside. I would invite you along, Miss Rosebury, but I know you cannot ride.”
Gabriel’s jaw twitched in anger, and he watched Charlotte’s cheeks flush red as Mr. Cropp walked toward her, seizing her hand.
“I do hope we may see each other again,” he said, and despite Charlotte taking a step back, he bent down to place a kiss upon the back of her hand.
Without another thought, Gabriel advanced upon him, grasping his shoulder and pulling him away before his lips could touch her.
“Good day, Mr. Cropp,” he said, his voice booming as he pulled him across the room. “Mr. Harding will see you out now.”
Gabriel released him upon reaching the door where the butler soon took over, and Mr. Cropp glared at Gabriel before placing his top hat upon his head and scurrying from the room without saying another word.
“Goodness,” Mrs. Worthington breathed out once they were alone, “I thought he might never leave. Thank Heavens for you, Gabriel, or he very well could have stayed the whole day. Are you not grateful for my son, Miss Rosebury?”
“Indeed, I am,” came Charlotte’s soft reply. “Thank you, Mr. Worthington.”
Gabriel could not help but look at her then, and he felt his heart slowly softening as she smiled. However, when he recalled her words, how close she had been to the root of his problem, he glanced away with a frown.
“It was no trouble,” he said, and before additional guilt could enter his heart, he mumbled a simple, “Excuse me,” before leaving the room, and Charlotte, behind.
Charlotte remained silent, staring at the empty door Gabriel had disappeared through until Mrs. Worthington spoke.
“He has seemed in poor spirits recently, has he not?” she asked.
Charlotte could not help the blush rising to her cheeks as she glanced away.
“Miss Rosebury,” Mrs. Worthington pressed when she remained silent, “do you know something?”
Another moment passed by before Charlotte sat down, feeling her shoulders slouch forward with her sigh.
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br /> “Your son and I, we shared a conversation days ago,” she began, “and I offended him with my attempt to help, for you see, I have at last discovered for myself why he does not wish to marry.”
Mrs. Worthington’s brows raised. “He spoke to you of his father and brother?”
Charlotte nodded. “He did.”
“Well,” the woman said, shaking her head, “all I can say is this, my son must think very highly of you, indeed, my dear, to speak with you about such a sensitive matter.”
“Be that as it may,” Charlotte said, despair still filling her heart, “Mr. Worthington will not forgive me, nor will he change his mind on matrimony.”
Mrs. Worthington moved toward Charlotte, sitting down next to her and grasping her hand between her own.
“My son may have remained true to his promise thus far,” she said, “but I believe there is still good reason to hope yet for a change in him.”
“Oh,” Charlotte began, a her face turning red as she thought how revealing her words had been, “of course, I did not mean to say, to say that he and I, that we ought to…that marriage was in our future…”
Mrs. Worthington smiled knowingly in her direction when she trailed off.
“Worry not, my dear,” she said. “I have faith my son will find courage yet. And when he does, he would be forever blessed with you as his companion.”
Charlotte could not help but feel hope budding within her heart, however, as days continued to pass by without Gabriel’s company, every stolen glance in his direction, every hope-filled visit to the stables, and every silent observance of his pianoforte playing, Charlotte’s heartache increased.
One morning, she again found herself standing outside of the music room as Gabriel played another haunting melody, the music echoing throughout the hallway she occupied. She closed her eyes and allowed the notes to carry her away for a moment until suddenly, the playing stopped, and her heart dropped as the man spoke her name aloud.
“Miss Rosebury,” he said, and she gasped, throwing her hand up to cover her open mouth, “I see no point in you remaining hidden when I know you stand there.”
Charlotte’s initial reaction was to run away as quickly as possible, but she remained where she stood when he spoke again.
To Warm A Wintered Heart (Regency Romance) Page 17