by Bree Wolf
Carefully, Sebastian reached out, his hand reaching for hers, still lying on the mattress where he had set it down when Victoria had come in. The warmth of her skin had kept him awake for the greater part of the night as he had cherished the feel of her, so unexpected, so rare. He had watched her sleep: her chest rise and fall with each calm breath. Every now and then, he had gently squeezed her hand, wanting … needing to make his presence known to her, and to his utter delight, the ghost of a smile had flashed over her face.
At first, he hadn’t been certain that his eyes had not deceived him … until he had tried again, craving her first, honest response to his touch.
As his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt a jolt go through her, and her eyelids twitched.
Shocked−and rather ashamed−at first, Sebastian stopped, his eyes narrowing as he watched her face. Then he took a deep breath. “How long have you been awake?”
In answer, her eyes squeezed shut more tightly.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked, hoping that she wasn’t pretending to be asleep merely to escape his attention.
After a while, she took a deep breath before her eyes slowly fluttered open. Then she met his gaze, and for an instant, his heart stopped.
“I’m sorry,” he said, head slightly bowed. “I promised I wouldn’t touch you without your permission.”
“You didn’t,” she whispered, and he lifted his head to look at her. “I took your hand, remember?”
Sebastian nodded, and a soft smile came to his lips. “I do, yes.” He took a deep breath. “I liked that very much.”
For a second, her teeth seemed to be chattering as though she were cold … or scared … before she dropped her gaze, a touch of red coming to her cheeks.
Patience, Sebastian counselled himself. “Do you remember what happened last night?” he asked, partly because he was dying to understand but also because he thought it best to change the subject from the gentle bond that was slowly forming between them, the bond that seemed to terrify her to her very core.
“I do.” Although reluctant, she met his eyes. “How did you find me?”
“I remembered what you told me,” Sebastian told her once more, “about your mother and tossing a coin into the water in order for your heart’s desire to come true.”
A wistful smile came to his wife’s lips. “That was a long time ago.”
Sebastian nodded. “Sometimes our childhood seems like it was an eternity ago, like a different lifetime. Things change in such a way that it is difficult to believe that we were them once, those innocent creatures ready to believe in wishes and dreams.”
“I often wish I could return to that time,” his wife whispered, her eyes distant. “Life was easier then. Happier, too.”
Sebastian nodded. “Why did you leave Victoria’s house in such a rush?” he blurted out before his courage could fail him. “What scared you so? Was it her husband?”
Instantly, her muscles tensed, and she drew her hand closer to her body … and away from him.
“I don’t understand what happened,” Sebastian said, hoping that honesty would serve him, “but I would like to. From what my sister said, I believe that it was her husband who sent you into such a panic. Do you know him? Have you met him before?”
For a long moment, his wife remained quiet. Then she looked up. “You yourself proposed a marriage of convenience,” she said, her voice almost cold as she spoke, and his hopes fell, “and that is all I can give you.”
“What are you so afraid of?” Sebastian demanded, annoyance over her stubborn insistence running through his veins. “Why won’t you allow me to help? Even if you truly see ours as a marriage of convenience, I do not.”
Again, her eyes met his, and he could see that his words unsettled her, and yet, he thought to glimpse a spark of temptation before she averted her gaze.
“Whether you like it or not, you are my wife,” Sebastian declared as his heart thudded wildly in his chest, “and it is not only my duty but also my desire to protect you. Why do you think I spent the past night sitting by your bed? Out of convenience?” He took a deep breath. “Was it out of convenience that you wanted me to stay? Was it out of convenience that you took my hand? Tell me!”
Meeting his gaze once more, she took a shaky breath. Her eyes were far from hard, and the cold had vanished from her voice as she spoke. “Because I trust you,” she whispered as though the words surprised even here. “Because I feel safe with you. I haven’t felt safe in a long time, and I almost forgot what it was like to have someone to lean on.”
Not expecting such a heartfelt declaration, Sebastian stared at her, and warmth filled his chest. “Then tell me what is going on, and I promise I shall keep you safe for the rest of my days.”
“You don’t know how much I wish I could,” she said, tears misting her eyes. “It truly is my heart’s desire.” She took a deep breath, and her lower lip began to tremble as she forced back the tears that threatened. “What hides in my past is much more than just the reason for my reaction yesterday. How I know your sister’s husband is but a small part of it. If I told you all there is to know, you wouldn’t look at me the way you do any longer.” Her fingers curled into the pillow under her head. “And I admit I couldn’t bear that. I’m being selfish, I know, but I’m not ready to let go yet. I might never be.”
As his heart ached in his chest, Sebastian asked, “How do I look at you?”
Pressing her lips together, she smiled shyly. “As though I’m someone who deserves to be loved and cherished. Someone who is good and pure. Someone who matters. Someone who is not alone in the world.” For a moment, she closed her eyes, and the tears she’d held back spilled over and ran down her cheeks, wetting her pillow. “I know it’s not true, but it’s a wonderful dream. It’s all I have left, and I’m not ready to lose that.”
Not knowing what lay in her past, Sebastian could only hope that he would find the right words as he leaned forward, his arms coming to rest on the mattress beside her. “It is true,” he whispered, holding her gaze, not allowing her to ignore the truth of his words. “It is. I may not know what happened to you or what you did or even the person you once were, but I know the person you are today. And I can tell you that the way you see yourself is wrong. You are everything and more you dream to be, and nothing–nothing−will ever sway me from your side.”
She smiled at him then. However, it was a wistful smile, and he could see that she did not believe him. “I wish you were right. Truly. But you don’t know …, and you can never know.”
Feeling her slip away, Sebastian felt a wave of panic rise. “Please tell me, and you will see that nothing will change.”
“I can’t.”
Closing his eyes, Sebastian took a deep breath. “Then where do we go from here?”
“Nowhere,” his wife said, her voice choked as more tears spilled down her face. “We go nowhere. This is all we have.”
Chapter Thirty-Two – A Proposal
In the days that passed, her husband kept trying to talk to her, trying to persuade her to place her trust in him. But Charlotte couldn’t. After all, she had taken someone’s life. No one could forgive that. No one ought to.
Her husband, however, did not know what he was asking of her. He did not know of her crime, and, of course, he couldn’t fathom her committing a crime like that. Who could? If one cared for another, even loved another, one walked the world blinded by the truths surrounding that person.
Charlotte had seen it many times. How many of her friends had fancied themselves in love, only to wake up one morning married to a man who was so very different from the person they’d thought him to be? Could love and truth ever walk hand in hand? Or did one exclude the other?
After everything that had happened, Charlotte knew that she had to leave. And her husband knew it, too, for he refused to let her out of his sight.
While he kept his distance, was respectful and considerate, he thwarted every opportunity she might ha
ve had of leaving the house undetected.
A week passed, and Charlotte still didn’t know what to do.
Of course, she couldn’t stay. Not after what had happened.
After all, Lord Northfield knew that she was alive. He knew where she lived. He knew that the identity she had given her new husband was false. Any moment now, he could reveal her lies to the world at large. To anyone he chose.
And yet, he didn’t. That scared Charlotte even more for she couldn’t understand why.
A fortnight passed, and Charlotte was no closer to figuring out what to do when the butler informed them of a surprise supper guest that night.
Bowing to the countess as well as her son and daughter-in-law as they stood in the parlour, he announced, “Lord and Lady Northfield.”
For a moment, Charlotte thought she would faint on the spot. The world around her began to spin; her knees felt weak, ready to give up their post. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her husband’s shocked, and yet, concerned face as he came toward her, his hands reaching for her as she began to sway on her feet.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his blue eyes searching hers, his hands a hair’s breadth from her arms, ready to catch her should she need him to. “Shall I escort you upstairs?”
“Is something wrong?” the countess enquired, the look in her eyes almost identical to her son’s. Only hers held confusion instead of apprehension for she did not understand the meaning of her son-in-law’s visit. How could she?
Before Charlotte had a chance to make up her mind, much less reply, the butler stepped aside and Lord and Lady Northfield walked in.
While Victoria’s face held regret, her eyes begged Charlotte to forgive her; her husband’s sparkled with excitement. A smug smile drew up the corners of his lips as his gaze fell on Charlotte. “Good evening,” he said, his voice strong and seemingly polite. However, Charlotte recognised the thinly veiled condescension and disregard he generally bestowed on people he deemed inferior to him … which included anyone he had ever met.
“How kind of you to accompany Victoria tonight, my lord,” the countess greeted her son-in-law. Though her voice sounded as polite as his, the insincerity with which she spoke was not lost on the baron for he looked at her with a hint of disgust before his attention returned to Charlotte.
The countess, too, noticed his fixation on the newest member of their family, and her eyes narrowed as they shifted from her most unwelcome guest to her daughter-in-law. “Dear, are you unwell?” she asked, stepping forward, and her gaze travelled to her son. “You look pale.”
“Oh, but she looks radiant, does she not?” Lord Northfield beamed, a big grin on his face as he stepped forward. “Like life itself.” His brows rose as he spoke, and Charlotte clearly understood the mockery in his words.
As her heart hammered in her chest and the blood rushed in her ears, Charlotte heard everything around her as though spoken in muffled tones.
Lost, all she could do was to keep a tight grip on her nerves, lest she lose all hold on reality and do something unwise. Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
Trapped in the same room with her new family as well as the nightmare of her past, Charlotte was at a loss. Had he come to reveal who she truly was? Was he intent on ruining her … again? Why had he waited this long? Why was he not telling them this very instant? And why was he looking at her with such sickening delight?
“Shall I escort you upstairs?” her husband whispered, and Charlotte turned her head, meeting his eyes. Almost dark blue in their intensity, they held such concern that Charlotte felt the impulse to wrap her arms around him and bury her head in his neck.
Instead, she took a deep breath, then shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I merely felt light-headed for a moment, but it has passed.”
Her husband nodded. However, Charlotte could see that he did not believe her. But what was she to tell him? She could not leave this room, not knowing what Lord Northfield would tell her family in her absence. She had to discover what his agenda was for there was not a single fibre in her body that believed that he had come here that night without a plan to hurt her once again. Maybe if she knew what it was, she would be prepared.
Hope.
Her heart still held hope, for despite her intentions to leave, she had never truly wanted to. After all, this was her home now, her family, and she wished for nothing more but to be able to stay with them.
However, seeing the baron here, now, Charlotte knew that there was no sliver of hope left. Now, it lay dead at her feet, and she had to face the hard truth. She had to leave. That was final now; yet, she couldn’t without knowing that her family would be safe.
By the time, they were all seated around the large dining room table, the silence that hung over that evening had stretched to an almost unbearable length. Besides Charlotte herself, Victoria was the one who looked most uncomfortable as she kept her eyes fixed on her plate, barely lifting her head and not uttering a single word. The countess as well as her son observed the proceedings, their guest through narrowed eyes, no doubt attempting to assess the situation that had so unexpectedly found its way into their midst.
More than once, Charlotte felt her husband’s as well as her mother-in-law’s concerned eyes on her, only to find their gazes shift to their supper guest a moment later, an almost scowl-like expression on their faces.
Deep down, a part of Charlotte recognised that they were trying to protect her, and it warmed her heart like nothing had in a long time.
Her new family knew something was wrong. They knew that a threat had entered their house in the form of Victoria’s husband, and they knew from Charlotte’s reaction that she was terrified.
Only, they didn’t know why.
And they could never find out.
As Lord Northfield proceeded to make pleasant conversation, not in the least disturbed by the flat and downright rude replies from his hosts, Charlotte was almost frozen in her seat. As much as she wished she could engage him in conversation and find out why he had come here that night, his mere presence robbed her of every bit of self-esteem she had left. Her stomach twisted and turned, and not a morsel of food could be forced down her throat.
“I admit I was rather surprised to hear of your wedding, dear Brother,” Northfield exclaimed, grinning at Charlotte’s husband with a hint of speculation in his eyes. “And even more so when I heard your wife was not of our standing. To be frank, I believed you to have made a monumental mistake,” his gaze travelled to Charlotte, and instantly, the bile rose in her throat as his eyes lingered on her face. “However, now that I’ve seen what a charming and innocent, young lady you’ve claimed as yours, I find myself most willing to express my congratulations. She truly is one of a kind.”
His taunting words echoed in Charlotte’s ears as he unscrupulously reminded her of the night in the library.
Averting her eyes, she found a scowl on her husband’s face as he stared across the table. Although he could not possibly understand the hidden meaning of the baron’s words, he understood the insult as well as the injury they were meant to convey and inflict.
“I assure you,” he replied, his jaw clenched, “that I could not have found a more suitable wife had I searched the whole face of the earth. She is my match in every way and a wonderful addition to this family.”
“I am certain she is,” the baron agreed, a sneer on his face as he continued to look at her. “I can only hope I will have the opportunity to get better acquainted with her in the future.”
Instantly, her husband’s hand balled into a fist as he was all but ready to jump to his feet and attack their guest.
“Shall we return to the drawing room,” the countess suggested, a warning in her eyes as she looked at her son. “After this lovely dinner, I believe a little music would be … beneficial. Victoria, if you would be so kind.”
“Of course, Mother.” Rising from her chair, Victoria looked at Charlotte. Although her cheeks looked rather
pale and her hands were far from steady, a touch of urgency rested in her gaze. “Dear Lotte, would you be so kind as to show me the new sheet music you spoke about during your last visit?”
“Sheet music?” Charlotte mumbled, momentarily confused.
“Yes, don’t you remember?” Victoria insisted, her gaze almost drilling into Charlotte’s.
Understanding dawned, and Charlotte nodded. “Of course.” Then she turned to the others. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”
Ignoring the displeased frown on Northfield’s face, Charlotte followed Victoria out into the hall as the rest of their party headed to the drawing room. “Thank you,” she whispered as the two women climbed the stairs.
“I’m so sorry,” Victoria exclaimed in hushed tones, casting a careful look over her shoulder. “I should have sent word, but he only made his intentions known once I was almost out the door.”
“It’s all right. You couldn’t have known.” Opening the door to her bedchamber, Charlotte wondered how much Victoria knew or at the very least guessed at. “Did he tell you anything?”
Closing the door behind her, Victoria shook her head, a sour and rather exhausted looking smile on her lips. “Although we are husband and wife, we do not speak to each other more than need be. I know nothing about what he thinks.” She swallowed, then stepped closer and took Charlotte’s hands. “But I saw the way you looked at him then, and I saw the look on your face tonight, and as you said, those who experienced the same recognise the signs.”
Considering Victoria’s compassionate face, her own pain so evident in her large eyes, Charlotte felt her heart open and tears stream down her cheeks.
“Does my brother know?” Victoria asked, squeezing Charlotte’s hands.
Tensing at the mere suggestion, Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t want him to know.”
“Do you believe he would hold it against you?”
“I know he wouldn’t,” Charlotte admitted, an affectionate smile drawing up the corners of her mouth. “He’s a truly good man, and I believe on some level he suspects.”