by Bree Wolf
Chapter Eighteen – Brothers & Sisters
As a knock sounded on the door, Charlotte tensed, immediately dropping her arms and lifting her head off her mother-in-law’s shoulder.
An apologetic look in her eyes, the countess brushed a strand behind Charlotte’s ear. “Are you all right, Dear?”
Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Charlotte nodded, then turned to the window as her mother-in-law called for whomever to enter.
“Pardon my intrusion, my lady,” Hartridge Hall’s butler mumbled, giving a quick bow, “but your daughter is arriving this very minute.”
“Thank you, Coleridge,” the countess said, a hint of excitement in her voice. Once the door closed behind the butler, she turned to Charlotte, who was dabbing a handkerchief at her swollen eyes.
“I must look dreadful,” she said, her voice still thick with emotions. “I apologise for−"
“Nonsense!” the countess objected, placing her hands on Charlotte’s shoulders and looking her in the eyes. “We’re family now. Your pain is my pain. Your joy is my joy.” A soft smile on her face, she nodded. “I cannot change the past, but it is within my power to shape the future, and I refuse to allow the opportunity to pass me by. Do you understand?”
“I think I do,” Charlotte sighed as her heart felt lighter than it had in a long while. It truly had been too long since she had been able to confide in someone, to allow herself to be vulnerable. Until a moment ago, Charlotte hadn’t known how desperately she’d needed a shoulder to lean on…if only for a short moment.
“Come, Dear,” the countess said, drawing Charlotte’s arm through her own. “I want you to meet my daughter. I’m certain the two of you will have much to talk about.”
“I’d like that,” Charlotte said, a grateful smile on her face. Never would she have thought to find anything even resembling a family again, and now, it seemed to be growing day by day. Would her new sister-in-law reject her as her father had? Or would she look at her with the same kindness as her mother? Charlotte couldn’t deny that she was curious to meet the young woman she’d heard so much about. The young woman who’d suffered an awfully familiar fate.
And yet, deep down, a nagging voice whispered that Charlotte had no rightful claim on the family she was starting to see as her own. If they knew who she truly was and what she’d done, they would turn from her in an instant. And she could not fault them for it.
After all, she had taken someone’s life.
Walking down the corridor on her mother-in-law’s arm, Charlotte drew a deep breath into her lungs, forcing the tremble the voice had conjured to still. After all, the countess had been right. There was nothing she could do about her past. But maybe, just maybe, she could help shape a future in which her husband’s family would be united once again.
As they walked down the long corridor and the front hall came into view, Charlotte squinted her eyes as she saw two figures standing there, holding hands, their heads bent toward the other in confidence.
“I see my son has already found her,” the countess mumbled beside Charlotte. “Somehow, he’s always known where to find her. It’s a special connection they have.”
Stopping in the arched door frame, the two women watched as brother and sister spoke to each other, their quiet voices reaching their ears like a gentle echo in the vaulted room. “Please, Sebastian,” his sister implored, her deep blue eyes holding his, “you know as well as I do that a marriage of convenience is the normal way to go about conducting these affairs.”
Inwardly, Charlotte cringed. Despite everything that had happened to her, she had been spared the fate of marrying a man she didn’t want. Victoria, however, had not been so lucky, and although she did her utmost to convince her brother of the opposite, Charlotte could see the tell-tale signs of a broken heart and a dying soul.
“Before Victoria came into our lives,” the countess whispered beside her, her eyes fixed on the two siblings, “Sebastian was all alone in this family.” She sighed. “But then, when Victoria was born, Sebastian took one look at his little sister and lost his heart to her, suffering with every scrape and cut, every heartbreak and sorrow.”
For the second time that day, tears brimmed in Charlotte’s eyes as she found herself reminded of Kenneth yet again. He had always been near, always watching, always protecting, always taking care of her. Somehow, he had always seen inside her heart with a single look.
Watching her husband with his sister, their eyes saying more than their lips dared, Charlotte recognised the depth of their connection and her heart ached for them.
“I need you to be happy, do you hear me?” Victoria implored her brother. “I need you to smile and laugh and find love. I need you to find a woman who is your match. I need at least one of us to be truly happy.”
Charlotte froze the very moment her mother-in-law squeezed her hand and cast her a delighted smile. A woman who is your match? A woman to love?
Closing her eyes, Charlotte sighed as guilt washed over her. By accepting her husband’s proposal, she had robbed him of every chance for happiness. Although it had been him who had proposed a marriage of convenience, she should have known better. Anger had fuelled his decision that day, not reason. He had been angry at his father and sought revenge. She ought to have stopped him, but instead, she had given in, afraid of what might become of her. How could he ever forgive her for this?
“I’m married, dear Sister.”
As her husband’s words echoed through the vaulted room, the countess strode forward, pulling Charlotte along. “Victoria,” she exclaimed, releasing Charlotte’s arm and rushing toward her daughter, “I’m so glad you’ve arrived. Are you all right?”
While mother and daughter embraced, Charlotte glanced at her husband, his face aglow with delight as he watched them. Then his gaze drifted to Charlotte, and he stepped toward her. For a moment, his eyes held hers and a hesitant expression rested in them before he held out his hand to her.
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte took it, strangely comforted by the gentle warmth of his hand closing around hers.
“Victoria,” her husband said, his voice ringing with pride, “allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Huntly.”
Forcing her nerves back under control, Charlotte stepped forward and met Victoria’s eyes as she released her mother and came toward her, a curious smile playing on her lips.
“And this is my sister,” her husband continued, “Lady−”
“Let’s not be so formal,” his mother interrupted, surprising everyone. “After all, we’re family. Victoria, this is Lotte. Lotte, this is my daughter Victoria.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Victoria said, her watchful eyes drifting over Charlotte’s face, asking, wondering, assessing. And yet, there was nothing hostile in her gaze, merely curiosity as well as a hint of sisterly protectiveness. “I must admit I’m quite surprised,” she said, glancing at her brother. “I didn’t even know Sebastian had been betrothed.” She turned to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Their mother chuckled. “Because they’ve only known each other a fortnight.”
“What?” Victoria’s mouth gaped open. However, before she could say another word or rather ask another question, her mother looped her daughter’s arm through her own and whisked her away. “I’ll tell you everything. Come, you must be tired from your long journey.”
Overwhelmed by the rather startling developments of that day, Charlotte stared after the two women. The countess was truly a different person when her husband was not around. Charlotte couldn’t imagine this kind and strong-willed woman to ever have been subservient to her husband’s wishes, willing to neglect her children in the process.
It happens to the best of us, does it not? Kenneth’s voice echoed to her ears as he had once counselled her. No one was free of mistakes. No one was above hopes and desires, fears and despair. Everyone could fall.
Only not everyone could rise again.
Blinking, Charlotte shook her
head, willing away the reminders of the past. Then she turned to find her husband standing beside her, frozen like a stone pillar, still staring at the door through which his mother and sister had vanished. While his body seemed unresponsive, his face spoke of the many emotions that had come rushing back upon his sister’s return.
“You love her very much, do you not?” Charlotte whispered, reluctant to disturb the moment, and yet, unable to remain silently by his side.
His chest rose and fell as he inhaled deeply, then turned to look at her. “She’s my sister.” At a loss, he shook his head. “There are no words. I …” His eyes met hers. “I wish your brother had lived so you could truly have understood what it means to have someone who walks with you every day of your life … even when they’re far away.”
Seeing the raw emotions in his eyes, Charlotte found herself compelled to reciprocate. The words left her mouth before she even knew what she would say. “There was someone once,” she whispered, “who was like a brother to me.”
Intrigued, her husband’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer.
“He was always there.” Swallowing, Charlotte stared at her clenched hands. “He always knew where to find me, always knew what to say to … make it better, to soothe and heal and comfort.” A soft smile came to her face at the memory of Kenneth’s faithful eyes. Never uncertain. Always confident as though nothing could surprise him. “I was never afraid,” she continued, lifting her gaze, “because I knew no matter what would happen, he would be there right beside me, holding my hand.”
A look of delighted surprise on his face, her husband nodded. “Sometimes it is as though I can feel her heart beat,” he whispered, and his features darkened. “When I was on the continent, there was a day when I felt … not like myself as though I was deathly sick. I couldn’t make sense of it.” He swallowed. “Later, I found that it had been my sister’s wedding day.”
Charlotte took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I …” There was nothing she could say to ease his pain.
“As am I.” Exhaling, her husband met her eyes. “Where is he? The man who was like a brother to you? What happened to him?”
Again, her hands clenched as raw pain erupted in her heart. “He died,” she forced out through gritted teeth, willing the tears away that gathered in the corners of her eyes. Then she quickly stepped back and turned around, determined to hide the weakness that lived within her.
“Wait!” her husband called before she had taken more than a few steps.
As she stood in the large foyer of Hartridge Hall, tears streaming down her face, Charlotte heard her husband’s soft footsteps on the marble floor as he walked up to her.
“Will you look at me?” he asked, and although Charlotte couldn’t say why, she turned to face him. “I’m deeply sorry for your loss, and I know that nothing I can say will ease the pain.” Holding her gaze, his piercing blue eyes shone gentle and kind. “What was his name?”
Charlotte took a deep breath, her voice shaking as she spoke. “Kenneth. His name was Kenneth.” Shaking her head, she met his eyes. “It has been a while since I spoke his name. Somehow it makes the memories of his loss more acute. I …” As her vision began to blur once again, she frantically wiped her hands over her face, trying to erase the evidence of her pain.
Charlotte barely heard his soft footsteps as he approached. Only when his hands settled on hers, stilling their movement, did she look up, blinking away her tears. The breath caught in her throat at the feel of his skin against hers, and for a moment, panic seized her.
It was like an instinct, a reflex.
Not a conscious thought or a decision she had control over.
As her body froze in shock, her eyes found his, and the compassion she saw there, the kindness and respect, slowly freed her from the iron shackles fear had forced on her a long time ago. Her heart continued to beat in a steady rhythm, and her breathing evened.
“I’m deeply sorry,” her husband whispered, his hands still holding hers, tightly, protectively but not demanding anything. “I know that it might be little comfort to you now for we are all but strangers, but,” he nodded, his eyes gazing into hers, “I want you to know that you’re not alone. You have a family now, and over time, I can only hope that you’ll deem it safe to open your heart to us and allow us to love you the way you deserve.”
Touched beyond words, Charlotte stared up at him, wondering what had happened that had suddenly brought them so close. How was it that he always knew what to say?
After all, he was right, they were nothing but strangers. And yet, they were husband and wife as well, and the promise he’d just made her warmed her heart in such an unexpected way that Charlotte found herself stepping forward, closing the distance between them, and placing her head against his shoulder. Leaning into him, she sighed and allowed her eyes a moment of rest.
At first, her husband remained still, probably taken aback by her sudden forwardness. Then he sighed, and his arms came around her slowly, carefully, asking permission.
When she didn’t step away, he wrapped her in a warm embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head.
They stood like this for a long moment, and Charlotte felt a soft smile tug at the corners of her mouth. Breathing in his scent, clean and honest, she suddenly realised that she trusted him. Stranger or not, she trusted him.
That realisation hit her so suddenly that her head jerked back. What was she doing? She couldn’t trust him! He was−
“Are you all right?” he asked, concern in his blue eyes, as he looked down at her. “Was this …? I mean, … I’m sorry. Shouldn’t I have−?”
As she stepped back, he immediately dropped his arms, and yet, a pained look came to his eyes that twisted Charlotte’s heart. Did he truly care for her? Was she right to trust him?
Taking another step backward, Charlotte was about to turn around when he came toward her, hands raised, signalling that he wasn’t a threat. “Listen. Please. Before you go,” he began, his eyes imploring, “you need to know that I would never hurt you. I know you have a reason to distrust men, but we’re not all the same. Ask anything of me to prove myself to you, and I shall do it.”
Holding his gaze, Charlotte frowned. How did he know that she had a reason to distrust men? Had she told him anything? Trying to recall their conversations, Charlotte shook her head. Although he had a way to make her talk and say more than she intended, she was certain that she’d never mentioned … that night. How could he possibly know?
“If you do not feel comfortable to speak to me,” her husband continued, watching her as closely as she watched him, “then speak to my mother or my sister. They are your family now, too.” He nodded to her. “Please.”
Charlotte swallowed. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” A hint of relief played over his features at her answer.
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte took a step back, then turned and walked away, wondering who this man was she called her husband and what he knew about her.
And how?
Chapter Nineteen – Husbands & Wives
Charlotte spent the day of Victoria’s arrival at Hartridge Hall alone.
While the rest of her new family sat together in the parlour, talking and laughing, Charlotte wandered from room to room, gazing out the windows, forcing herself to stay away.
After all, she didn’t belong.
Not really.
However, when she happened to venture close and the echo of their shared enjoyment reached her ears, she longed to join them. Finally, life had returned to Hartridge Hall, and the desire Charlotte hadn’t been quite able to quench, the desire for a family of her own, grew until it echoed within her chest, reminding her at every turn what awaited her around the corner.
And yet, she feared what they would see if she joined them. For what reason, she could not say, but her new husband had the unsettling ability to peer into her soul and know exactly how she felt and what she thought. Her mother-in-law, too, had pro
ved quite intuitive. What would they see if she spent too much time with them?
And so, fear kept her away.
During supper, she once more observed the strange effect the earl’s presence had on his family. Seated around the large table, they mostly kept their heads lowered, merely offering a word of observation here and there, about the food, the cold weather or the coming holidays. Their faces remained almost impassive, reminding Charlotte of her own, of the time she had viewed the world around her through a thick fog.
However, once the earl retired to his study, smiles came to his family’s faces. They turned to each other with open eyes and shared more intimate and personal thoughts of themselves.
Fascinated, Charlotte watched their exchange, noting the relief and joy on her husband’s as well as her mother-in-law’s face when Victoria confirmed that she would stay until the beginning of the new Season and then accompany them to London.
The following days passed in a similar fashion. Torn between her desire for company and her fear of being discovered, Charlotte kept to herself.
When it began to snow two days before Christmas, Charlotte headed toward the back parlour, which offered a magnificent view of the gardens. A jolt of excitement, an echo of her childhood, coursed through her at the thought of a snow-covered world. With a quick step, she pushed open the door…and stopped.
Standing in front of the windows, her back toward her, was Victoria.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Charlotte mumbled. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” She was about to leave when a suppressed sob from the other woman drew her back. Eyeing Victoria’s hunched back and tense shoulders with unease, Charlotte approached. “Are you all right?” she asked, closing the door behind her. Somehow, she knew that Victoria had retreated to the back parlour, hoping that her family would not come upon her there.
Dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes, Victoria took a deep breath, then slowly turned around. “I’m glad it’s you,” she whispered, her voice heavy with sadness and despair−two emotions Charlotte knew only too well. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and when Victoria tried to blink back tears, more rolled down her cheeks.