by Bree Wolf
Touched that she would allow him to see such a vulnerable side of her, Sebastian nodded, his anger vanished into thin air. “I understand,” he replied just as honestly as she had spoken, “and I do not hold it against you. How could I? All I meant to say is that we are bound to disagree every occasionally, we’re bound to argue, even yell and snap at each other.” He looked deep into her eyes, hoping that at least part of her would believe him. “However, I would never lay a hand on you. Only someone who is in the wrong would use violence to make his point for it is a weak argument of no substance, and quite frankly, it is beneath me. Respect is earned, not stolen.” He sighed, “It’s one of only a few lessons I learnt from my father.”
For a moment, she remained still, lost in thought, before her gaze met his once more. “It helps to speak about it,” she admitted. “When someone scares me, I lose all rational thought, and then I cannot judge someone’s actions with a clear head.”
Sebastian nodded. “Then let’s speak about it,” he agreed, hoping she would not regret her words. “How do you know my sister’s husband?”
Instantly, his wife froze, terror back in her eyes, and it was as though a wall went up, trying to shield her from the pain she knew would come … but failing to do so. “Don’t ask me that,” she whispered, then shook her head and walked away.
Hurrying after her, Sebastian stepped in her path. “Is he the one who hurt you?” This was it! Now or never! And never was not an option!
Unable to flee, his wife stared at him. “Who told−? How do you know?”
“You did,” he said. “You told me.” He took a deep breath, remembering the night at the inn in Gretna Green. “The way you spoke of marriage, or marital rights and duties, the way you looked at me …, I suspected even then. A part of me knew that someone had hurt you. Only I didn’t know who. At first, I thought it might have been your betrothed.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Kenneth?”
Sebastian shrugged. “It was just a thought. After all, I never met him.”
A wistful smile came to her lips as a memory claimed her attention, and Sebastian felt a stab of jealousy for a man he had never known, a man who−as far as he knew−had died at least a year ago.
“He would never have hurt me,” his wife whispered, her eyes distant. “Kenneth was my best friend, my saviour, my protector.” Smiling, she looked up at him. “Only after seeing you with Victoria did I realise that he was the brother I never had.”
At her words, Sebastian exhaled, relief filling him, and yet, a sense of dread remained at the thought of a sister being without her brother.
“Whenever I needed him, he was there,” she continued, her voice growing stronger as she shared a memory dear to her. “He knew me like no one else ever had.” Then her face darkened, and for a moment, Sebastian thought she would refuse to go on. “When … Northfield … when he …, Kenneth knew that something was wrong. He could see it on my face, and … he made me tell him.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “And then he sacrificed his happiness for mine, and I let him because I was scared.”
“He asked for your hand?” Sebastian asked, suddenly wishing he had known the man who had done his utmost to protect the woman he thought of as a sister.
His wife nodded.
“To save your reputation? Or did he not think of you as a brother would?”
“He never loved me the way you …” As she dropped her gaze, a tinge of red came to her cheeks, even visible in the dim light in the stable. “He offered himself as a husband so that I wouldn’t have to accept Northfield’s proposal.”
Her words felt like a stab into his middle, and Sebastian almost toppled over with shock. “Northfield’s proposal?”
Gritting her teeth, his wife swallowed. “Apparently, he had set his sights on me because I was the only heir to my father’s fortune, an earl’s daughter, a perfect match.” Then she looked up and met his gaze, and her eyes suddenly went wide. Clasping a hand over her mouth, she stared at him.
Smiling at her, Sebastian stepped forward. “An earl’s daughter?”
“I never should have …”
“I knew,” Sebastian interrupted as the colour drained from her face. “Not that you were an earl’s daughter precisely, but I told you before that you struck me as someone of the upper society. Honestly, this does not come as a surprise to me.”
Taking a deep breath, his wife began pacing in front of the boxes, their inhabitants watching her curiously, reaching out their necks in hopes of a treat.
For a long while, Sebastian watched her as she worked through all the new revelations in her head. Then he asked, “You told me before that the name you gave me was not yours.”
Meeting his gaze, she nodded, reading his question in his eyes. “I am … or at least I was until my parents had me declared dead … Lady Charlotte Frampton.”
Declared dead? Sebastian wondered, but then pushed away that thought, deciding to focus on the more important issue. “Charlotte?” he whispered, intrigued. “Lotte? I see.” Holding out his hand, he said, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”
Smiling, his wife–Charlotte−carefully placed her hand in his, humour in her eyes before they grew serious once again. “I do apologise for the deception. I never meant to hurt you.”
“I do believe you.” Then his eyes dropped to her hand still resting in his. “May I?”
For a moment, her brows drew down in puzzlement before understanding dawned. Hesitating, she held his gaze before she finally nodded, her hand trembling slightly.
Smiling at her reassuringly, Sebastian stepped closer, then bent forward in a bow and gently pressed his lips to the knuckles of her fingers.
His wife drew in a sharp breath. However, she did not try to extract her hand.
When he met her eyes again, Sebastian thought to see a touch of excitement in them. “Lady Charlotte Frampton,” he mumbled, then stopped. “I feel as though I’ve heard that name before.”
Instantly, her body froze as though time had stopped. Then she pulled back her hand, barely meeting his eyes, remembering why she had come there that night. “I need to go,” she whispered. “Goodbye.”
With his heart hammering in his chest, Sebastian once more stepped into her path. “Why? Why now? What happened with Northfield that you feel you cannot stay another night?”
With her hands clenched painfully, she stared up at him. “I told you before I needed to leave.”
“But so far, you’ve been rather patient,” he reminded her, desperate to make her see that running away would not serve her for eventually her past would catch up with her. “You could’ve slipped out into the night before. Why now? What happened? What did he say?”
With lips pressed into a thin line, she looked up at him rather defiantly, and he finally realised the depth of her fear. However, he could not allow her to leave. What if Northfield found her again? “If you won’t tell me,” he threatened and hating himself for it, “I will speak to … my brother-in-law.”
“What?” his wife gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
“If there’s no other way. After all, he is my sister’s husband,” he reminded her. “I need to know.”
Eyes darting every which way as though hoping to find a solution, his wife looked like misery itself. Her teeth chattered, and she bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering as tears came to her eyes. “He said he would tell you … all of you … who I truly am.”
Trying to ignore her pain, Sebastian pressed on. He needed to know. “Why?” His eyes narrowed. “What did he want to keep quiet?”
She blinked then, and her tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. “He demands I become his mistress. He wants my answer within a fortnight.”
As though a fire had been lit, red hot anger seized Sebastian once more, burning in his veins. His hands balled into fists as his muscles tensed to the point of breaking. “I’ll kill him,” he growled out through clenched teeth, his jaw aching painfully. “I�
��ll kill that bastard.”
“No! You mustn’t!” Fear in her eyes, his wife rushed toward him, shaking her head.
“I’ll call him out. It is my right after all.”
Again, she shook her head, her eyes pleading. “He doesn’t fight fair. He’ll find a way to make certain that he will be the one left standing.” Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “I already told Kenneth, but he didn’t believe me.”
“He called him out?” Sebastian asked, wondering if that was how he had died. No, he hadn’t, Sebastian suddenly remembered. He’d died in the war, hadn’t he?
“He didn’t. I asked him not to, and so he didn’t.”
“Then what−?”
“It was a while after Kenneth had died that I realised it had been Northfield’s doing,” she sobbed. “I blamed someone else at first, and I did … something awful. I …” Gritting her teeth, she inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to regain her composure. “I finally read a letter Kenneth had left for me, and from what I could gather, I realised that Northfield had tricked him into … going after his friend.”
“His friend?” Sebastian asked, somewhat confused.
His wife shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now, really. He died in the war by an enemy’s hand, but it was Northfield who’d placed him in the face of danger.” Grasping his hands, she looked up at him. “Promise me, you will not call him out! You must not speak to him. Don’t let him know that you know anything. Just let me leave, and … you will be safe.”
Savouring the feeling of her slender fingers wrapped around his, her soft skin warm against his own, Sebastian looked down into her pleading eyes. “I can’t,” he whispered. “If I let you go, I know I will regret it for the rest of my life.”
Abruptly withdrawing her hands, she stepped back, anger burning in her eyes. “You will regret it if you don’t,” she snapped, exhaustion clear on her face. “You have no idea who he is and what he is capable of doing.”
Sebastian nodded, already missing the feel of her touch. “I think I do, and I understand why you’re asking me this.” For a moment, he held her gaze. “I love you, too; I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”
Her mouth opened in shock. Then she turned away, brushing the tears from her eyes.
Coming to stand behind her, Sebastian took care not to touch her. “Together we can find a way.”
“No, we can’t,” she sobbed, shaking her head. “There is something else you don’t know, something that … would destroy us. I cannot stay.”
As his head spun with all the new information, Sebastian held on to the one thing he could: his dream of a future with his wife. “Does Northfield know?”
Arms wrapped around herself, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think he does.”
“All right,” Sebastian said, stepping around her so that she would look at him. “Even if you’re not willing to do it for yourself … or for me, would you at least stay for Victoria’s sake?”
A frown came to her face as she looked up at him. “Victoria,” she mumbled, then shook her head. “Her fate truly is worse than mine. Whatever happened to me, I never had the misfortune of becoming his wife.”
Sebastian swallowed. “I failed her once, but I will not fail her again.” He took a deep breath, determined to face his own demons with the same courage that his wife had shown that night. “For a while, I thought if I stayed away, I could forget her misery. But that was cowardly, and it made me a man I never wanted to be.” Lips pressed together, he looked down at his wife imploringly. “I need to free her, and I need your help to do it.”
For a long time, his wife remained silent, her eyes studying his face as though he were an open book. Then she nodded, determination shining in her eyes. “I’ll stay,” she whispered, “until Victoria is safe.”
Sebastian drew in a deep breath, relief mingling with dread as he realised that only uncovering his wife’s secret would free her of this self-inflicted punishment. Maybe if he found out and she could see that he didn’t think less of her, maybe then, they’d have a chance at happiness.
At least, he knew her real name now.
Chapter Thirty-Four – Heart to Heart
Visiting Victoria at her townhouse was out of the question, and so Charlotte was relieved when her sister-in-law called on her early the next morning.
The two women retreated to the drawing room, and Charlotte firmly sent her husband away, knowing that it would be far easier for her to speak to Victoria alone.
“I was so worried about you,” her sister-in-law exclaimed. “I had hoped to speak to you before we left last night, but my husband said that you felt poorly and had gone to bed.”
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed.
“It is not true, is it?” Victoria asked as her eyes studied Charlotte’s face. “When I felt dizzy last night, my brother bade me to lie down. He and Mother didn’t leave my side. They were so worried. But after a while, I noticed that my husband was absent, so I sent Sebastian to look for him.” She took a deep breath. “What happened?”
Charlotte swallowed. The previous night had drained her, and yet, she had never felt so liberated. Sharing the pain of her past with her husband had given her strength. “He was waiting for me when I came back downstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because he recognised me,” she whispered, knowing that Victoria needed to know the truth … at least as much of it as possible.
“Recognised you? What do you mean?”
Charlotte took a deep breath. “I’m not who I said I was.”
Victoria’s eyes widened.
“A long time ago, I was an earl’s daughter,” Charlotte began, surprised that after the previous night it felt easier to talk about her past, “and one night, your husband asked for my hand. When I refused him, he thought he could gain my acceptance of his proposal … by compromising me.”
With eyes as round as plates, Victoria stared at her, her face ash-white. “You mean, he … he …?”
Charlotte nodded. “He thought if he ruined me, I would have no one else to turn to.” Shaking her head, Charlotte scoffed. “I thought he was wrong, and so I told my parents what he had done.”
Victoria cringed. “They did not believe you.”
“I’m not sure,” Charlotte admitted. “But it didn’t matter. I was ruined, and he was proposing.”
“They insisted that you marry him,” Victoria whispered, her voice weak with relived memories as undoubtedly her own wedding to the man in question flashed before her eyes.
“They did,” Charlotte confirmed, “but I had a knight in shining armour.” A soft smile came to her face at the memory of Kenneth, and Victoria leaned forward expectantly.
Charlotte once more spoke of her childhood friend, of how he had seen her misery and offered his help with no regard for his own happiness … and of how he had died in the war before they could be married. “By then, I already knew that I was with child,” Charlotte admitted, remembering the soft weight in her belly before she had even been able to truly feel it. “However, I never had the chance to tell him.”
“Was it his?” Victoria asked carefully.
“No.” Charlotte shook her head. “He was like a brother to me. We never …”
For a while, they remained quiet, both lost in their own thoughts. Then Victoria glanced up, her hand resting on her flat belly. “When did you lose your baby?”
Charlotte swallowed the sob that threatened. “The night I learnt of his death,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I suppose my body knew that the war was lost. I couldn’t have the child without Kenneth, and I never would have accepted Northfield’s proposal … no matter what. Had I not lost the child, I couldn’t have survived.”
“It pains you, does it not?” Victoria asked, tears streaming freely down her face. “To think of your child as a burden?”
Charlotte nodded, meeting her sister-in-law’s eyes openly. “Never in my life had I felt this tormented as I did then.
I wanted the child, and I didn’t want it. I mourned it, and yet, I rejoiced that I was free again. I thought I would lose my mind, and for a moment, I suppose I did.”
“What about your parents?”
Charlotte shook her head, remembering the hopelessness of her situation. “Without Kenneth to save me, my parents once again insisted that I agree to Northfield’s proposal.”
“But you still refused him,” Victoria said, a touch of awe in her voice. “I wish I had been that brave.”
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte shook her head. “I didn’t refuse him,” she admitted, remembering the day her parents had taken her to Winham Institute and left her there, never to return. “Honestly, I’m not certain what I would have done, but it doesn’t matter. Something … happened.”
Hands clasped together, Victoria watched her with rapt attention, and Charlotte knew that her sister-in-law burned to know what had saved her brother’s wife from having to marry the man Victoria herself now called husband. However, instead of confiding in her sister-in-law, Charlotte ignored her questioning gaze. “So, I vanished,” she whispered as though telling her story would conjure the ghosts of her past, “and my parents had me declared dead.”
“What? Why? Did they not wish to find you?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they did love me once−when life was good−but ultimately, they cared more for their reputation than they did for me. I never thought that possible, and it was in that very moment that I first felt the ground falling out from underneath my feet. After that, I just kept falling … until Kenneth caught me, at least for a little while, before I fell again.” Meeting Victoria’s shocked gaze, Charlotte swallowed. “I cannot tell you what exactly happened. I’ve never spoken about it to anyone, and I’m not certain I ever will be able to.”
“It’s all right,” Victoria whispered, her hands once more resting on her belly. “I’m grateful that you’ve told me as much as you have. It makes me feel trustworthy and … in a strange way competent.” She sighed, “Sebastian used to shield me from everything remotely bad in the world, and then when he was gone and Father insisted that I marry, I didn’t refuse, I didn’t fight because,” shaking her head, she bit her lower lip, “a part of me couldn’t believe that it was truly happening. Nothing truly bad had ever happened in my life, and as long as I had Sebastian, I simply … knew that nothing ever would.” For a moment, she closed her eyes. “I don’t know when exactly I woke up from that dream. I think I finally understood what had happened when Sebastian came to see me after the wedding.” Pressing her lips together, she blinked back tears. “He looked so forlorn, so ashamed and guilty. I think it was then in that moment that I finally realised that he wouldn’t save me this time. He couldn’t. Suddenly, I was on my own.” She met Charlotte’s gaze. “Nothing had prepared me for that.”