Ruined & Redeemed: The Earl's Fallen Wife

by Bree Wolf

Sebastian drew in a deep breath. “I’ve lain awake all night wondering about that.”

  “You didn’t ask her?”

  “I know I should have,” he admitted, “and I know she would have told me, but …” He sighed. “I couldn’t bring myself to ask her for then it would have been true, and I wasn’t quite ready to accept that last night.”

  For a moment, Victoria closed her eyes before she met his again. “I don’t know much about her past. She’s told me bits and pieces, but I’m certain that most of her story still lies in the dark. However, I refuse to believe that she’s an evil person. She’s nothing like my husband. There’s no malice in her, no desire to triumph over others, to see them weak and degraded. Whatever she’s done, there was a reason. I’m certain of it.”

  Sebastian nodded. If only he knew what it was! However, he was certain he would never know unless he finally asked her whose life she had taken and learn the rest of her story, however painful it might be.

  ***

  Feigning a headache, Charlotte took breakfast in her chamber the next morning. As much as she refused to bow her head and run like a coward, the thought of sitting across the table from that man brought chills to her body that reached deep inside her bones.

  She had to end this. Somehow, she had to end this.

  After speaking to her husband the night before, Charlotte knew that her time had finally come. She could not run from it now, but had to find a way to use it to her advantage.

  One good deed to balance out the atrocity she had committed.

  And then she would be free.

  Hopefully.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Charlotte froze.

  He wouldn’t dare seek her out in her bedchamber, would he?

  The thought turned her stomach upside down.

  The moment she realised that that man would have no scruples of attacking her in such a manner and in her bedroom of all places, she also knew without a doubt that her husband would never allow it. Ever since Northfield had arrived, Sebastian had never been far from her side and had, in addition, posted footmen to stand by every door … just in case.

  “It’s me, Victoria,” her sister-in-law called. “May I come in?”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Charlotte hurried to open the door and invited her husband’s sister inside. “Are you all right?” she asked, eyeing Victoria’s pale cheeks and slumped shoulders with concern. “You were as shocked about his sudden arrival as were we, weren’t you?”

  Sinking into an armchair by the window, Victoria exhaled deeply, her limbs seemingly heavy as lead. “I never thought he would follow me here,” she said, her eyes apologetic as she looked at Charlotte. “When I came to visit for Christmas, he stayed in town, and so I thought …”

  “He came because of me,” Charlotte said, no doubt in her mind about Lord Northfield’s intentions. “None of this is your fault. He came because he wants to torture me. He wants to see me squirm.” Shaking her head, Charlotte took a deep breath. “He is the kind of man who derives pleasure from seeing others in pain.”

  “I know,” Victoria whispered, not even a hint of surprise or shock on her features. Instead, it was resignation that clouded her eyes and stole the smile from her face. “And yet, I am sorry. After all, he is my husband, and as such, he has every right to be here. Otherwise, Sebastian could simply send him from the house.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. He does what he does because of who he is,” Charlotte counselled, worried by the dark lines under her sister-in-law’s eyes. “If he wasn’t your husband, he would find another way to seek me out.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Victoria said. Then she sat up and met Charlotte’s eyes. “I came here to speak to you because I know that you believe it to be your responsibility to liberate me from my marriage. You think if you had married him then, he couldn’t have married me and I’d be free today.” Victoria shook her head, tears clinging to her dark eyelashes. “But you mustn’t blame yourself. If it hadn’t been either of us, it would have been another unfortunate woman, and none of us would be at fault. Please hear me; it is not your duty to save me.”

  “I know,” Charlotte whispered, touched by Victoria’s strength and compassion. “I know that the only one at fault here is him, and yet, there is …” She took a deep breath. “There is something in my past that I cannot forget. I did something that I cannot live with. It plagues me every day, and I’ve long sought the means to redeem myself … if that is even possible.”

  “And you think by saving me, you can repay your debt?” Victoria asked, her knowing eyes travelling over Charlotte’s face.

  “Sebastian told you, didn’t he?”

  Victoria nodded. “Please don’t hold it against him. He simply needed to speak to someone.”

  “I’m not angry,” Charlotte replied, relieved that Victoria knew. Maybe eventually the truth would indeed set her free.

  A relieved smile came to her sister-in-law’s face. “I’m glad. He may be confused right now, but he truly loves you.”

  Biting her lower lip, Charlotte averted her eyes. Although she knew Victoria’s words to be true, she felt unworthy of her husband’s love. Who was she to find happiness in her marriage?

  “Please believe me,” Victoria went on, interpreting Charlotte’s reaction as doubt. “That day when you fled my house after my husband came home, I met Sebastian at the theatre. I drew him aside and told him what had happened. You should have seen his face. He was so scared for you.” She shook her head at the painful memory. “Even before I’d said a word, the moment he saw me coming, he knew that something was wrong, and his thoughts went to you right away. He barely said a word of goodbye to Lord Elmridge and his wife. In an instant, everyone around him was forgotten, and all he saw was you.”

  The blood froze in Charlotte’s veins. “Lord Elmridge?” she stammered as her vision blurred, and her mind conjured the moment of Leopold’s death.

  “Yes, he and his wife were at the theatre that night,” Victoria went on, eyeing Charlotte with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Sebastian and the late Lord Elmridge grew up together and were good friends. He passed on not two years ago. Since he only had a daughter, his brother Frederick inherited the title.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you know them?”

  Staring into the distance, Charlotte couldn’t believe her ears, her body stunned into paralysis. Leopold Lancaster, the man whose life she had taken, had been a childhood friend of her husband’s.

  Closing her eyes, Charlotte knew in that moment that all hope was finally lost. Now, there was no reason for her to tread lightly in hopes that her husband might find a way to forgive her past.

  This put the final nail in her coffin.

  Charlotte took a deep breath then, and for an instant, familiar emotions attacked her heart−pain, regret, shame and above all guilt−before they slowly faded away, leaving behind nothing but a barren rock where her heart had once beaten in her chest. The old fog once more settled on her mind, dulling her senses and shrouding the world in a grey veil.

  Once more, she would act without emotion, cold and calculated, her eyes fixed on one thing alone: retribution.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine − Retribution

  Pacing up and down the floor in front of the drawing room, Sebastian wrung his hands. More than anything, he wanted to stride through the doors and throttle the man who was currently exchanging polite pleasantries with his mother. And yet, he knew that it would only make things worse.

  Not that that man didn’t deserve an untimely and most importantly painful end. He did, more than anyone Sebastian had ever known.

  Not trusting himself, he hurried up the staircase and down the corridor toward his wife’s bedchamber. He had to speak to her. He had to know the truth as painful as it might be. Maybe, just maybe, they would find a way to deal with this awful situation.

  As he came closer, Sebastian frowned as loud knocking sounded from up ahead. He turned a corner and found a chair shoved against his wife’s
bedroom door, blocking the handle from turning. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” his sister’s voice called from behind the door. “Hello? Charlotte?”

  Pulling the chair away, Sebastian flung open the door and met his sister’s gaze, her eyes narrowed in concern. “What is going on here? What happened? Where is Charlotte?”

  Swallowing, Victoria shook her head, her eyes glancing up and down the corridor. “I don’t know. She just left. She pulled out the chair, closed the door and walked away … without saying a word. Oh, Sebastian, I’m terribly worried about her.”

  As his own heartbeat quickened, Sebastian grasped his sister by the shoulders, lowering his head to meet her eyes. “Tell me what happened. Did you speak to her? What did she say?”

  “Nothing.” Shock evident on her face, Victoria stared at him. “She said nothing. She simply got up and left.”

  Sebastian frowned. “What did you talk about?”

  “About my husband and how it’s not her fault that I’m married to him,” Victoria explained, her eyes darting from left to right as she raked her brain for a reason that would explain Charlotte’s reaction. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what I said, but …”

  “But?” Sebastian pressed as the blood in his veins ran cold.

  His sister met his eyes. “You should have seen her face. There was something … It changed. Suddenly, it was as though she wasn’t Charlotte any longer. I looked into her eyes, and she was gone, replaced by something cold and … dead.” A shiver went down her back as she stared at him, fear plain in her gaze.

  “Did you see where she went?” he asked, hurrying out the door, his sister on his heels.

  “No, she closed the door behind her before I could follow.”

  As they hurried down the stairs, Sebastian scanned their surroundings, but his wife was nowhere to be seen. “Search the east wing,” he said to Victoria, “but don’t alert your husband. He’s in the drawing room with Mother.”

  “I won’t,” his sister assured him and hurried away.

  Turning down the corridor that led to the library, Sebastian called to Coleridge as the old butler came toward him. “Have you seen my wife?”

  “Not today, my lord,” Coleridge said, then lifted a hand to stop Sebastian as he was about to rush past him. “Excuse me, my lord, but one of the pistols in your late father’s collection is missing. The case stood open. Did you remove it?”

  “No, I didn’t. I−" The words died on his lips as a new cold gripped his heart. His wife! She had taken the pistol, determined to repay the debt she thought was hers.

  Frantically, his eyes searched up and down the corridor. Where was she? No shot had been fired yet, but if he didn’t find her soon, her life would be forfeit.

  Turning on his heel, Sebastian hurried toward his father’s study and the pistol collection the late earl had been so proud of, but stopped short after only a few steps. Of course, she wouldn’t be there. She had already left, pistol in hand, and could be anywhere by now. Where was she?

  Northfield!

  Sebastian drew in a deep breath as the pulse hammered in his chest. He may not know where his wife was right now, but he knew where she would go. After all, Northfield was her target.

  Spinning around once more, he rushed down the corridor toward the front hall, the elderly butler barely keeping up with his large strides. As he burst through the arched doorway, he saw his wife up ahead, a pistol in her right hand as she stepped toward the closed drawing room doors.

  Not daring to call out, lest he should alert his mother or Northfield, Sebastian doubled his efforts and reached her the very moment as her hand moved toward the door handle.

  Grabbing her by the arms, he pulled her aside and pushed her back against the wall. Then he took the pistol from her, handing it to a rather wide-eyed Coleridge. “Return this,” he ordered, his eyes fixed on his wife, “and speak of this to no one.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Coleridge whispered, tension in his voice as he hobbled away.

  “Charlotte?” Saying her name, Sebastian met her eyes and found them devoid of all emotion. Blindly, they looked back at him; yet, there was no recognition, no awareness. Neither could he see pain or regret, fear or terror. It was as though the woman he’d known had left; all that remained was an empty shell.

  As voices behind the door grew louder, Sebastian hesitated for but a moment before he picked her up and carried her up the stairs. Back in her bedchamber, he set her down and closed the door. Then he turned to her, not knowing how to proceed.

  Again, he said her name, and again, she did not respond.

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped toward her, his gaze focused on her face, hoping for some sort of reaction as he closed the distance between them. Although they had grown closer as of late, she had always reacted with at least a sort of nervous anticipation when he had stepped too close, when his arms had reached for her as though she needed to gather her courage to allow him near her.

  Now, she failed to react at all.

  Gritting his teeth, Sebastian staked everything on one card and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

  Although she blinked, the expression on her face did not change. She remained immobile, rigid, almost unaware of his presence.

  At a loss, Sebastian continued to stare at her, willing her eyes to focus and see him, but his attempts were futile. Trapped in a trance, she had lost contact with the world around her. Would she ever return? Or was she already lost to him for good?

  Cold fear spread through his heart, and his hands tightened on her as though he could keep her safe simply by keeping her close.

  She sucked in a sharp breath.

  Sebastian blinked, his eyes snapping to her face, watching. “Charlotte? Can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  Had he imagined the sharp intake of breath? Was he going mad? No, there had been … something. On some level, he had reached her, reached a part of her that lay buried deep under layers of her protective shell. She had felt his hands on her, holding her close possessively … and a part of her had objected.

  An idea rushed through Sebastian’s head, and he cringed.

  He couldn’t! He had given her his word. He had sworn he would never break it. And yet …

  Was he simply to step back and leave her trapped in a world of her own making? Cut off from everything and everyone? Lost even to herself?

  “Charlotte?” he whispered, cupping his hands to her face, his eyes searching hers. “Can you hear me?” He waited for a moment, then another, and sighed when her eyes remained unfocused. Taking a deep breath, he stepped even closer. “Charlotte, I’m going to kiss you now,” he warned, hoping she would object.

  But she didn’t.

  “I’m going to kiss you now, but if you don’t want me to,” he continued, his muscles tense with anticipation, “then stop me. Tell me not to. Do you hear me?”

  Hesitantly, Sebastian pulled her rigid body against his, feeling her chest rise and fall with each soft breath. Then he closed his eyes, unable to bear the void look in hers any longer, and leaned toward her, gently pressing his lips to hers.

  Then he froze. Had the muscles in her back tightened? Or had he simply imagined it?

  Encouraged, his hands pulled her closer as he pressed his body to hers, his mouth deepening the kiss.

  Despite his own moral objections to his actions, warmth spread though his middle. Her skin felt warm to the touch, and her lips tasted sweet like honey and marmalade.

  Her arms came up then, the palms of her hands pressed against his chest, and Sebastian rejoiced. Tightening his hold on her even more, he dared her to react, hoping she would push him back and even slap his face for taking such liberties.

  For a moment, her hands seemed to strain against him before they gave up their post and moved upward onto his shoulders.

  Surprised, Sebastian stilled.

  Then her arms came around his neck, pulling her closer against him, and she opened her mouth, retu
rning his kiss.

  Forgetting the world around himself, Sebastian decided to live in the moment.

  Chapter Forty – Too Late

  Hands touched her, moved over her body, and Charlotte felt an old panic spread through her soul.

  The fog that had settled on her mind slowly receded; the harsh light of the world around her pierced her skull, sending jolts of pain through her body.

  Lips brushed against hers, and Charlotte tensed, remembering pain and degradation.

  Then she hesitated though. Something was different.

  The mouth on hers did not crush her lips, bruising them in an onslaught of desire. Neither were the hands that held her rough and painfully intimate. Instead, she felt cradled in his arms, held tightly but gently, safe and protected from the memory that had haunted her for so long.

  Sebastian.

  His name echoed in her mind and heart, and a smile came to her soul.

  Enjoying his soft caresses, she lifted her arms, and her hands encircled his neck as she pressed herself against him, savouring this perfect moment. Her mouth opened, and she kissed him back.

  For a moment, he stilled as though hesitant before his own desire broke free, and he returned her kiss with a passion so unfamiliar, and yet, so tantalising that Charlotte almost forgot to breathe. Clinging to him, she marvelled at the delicious sensations that shot through her body and relinquished all control.

  For a seemingly never-ending moment, Charlotte allowed herself to feel, to enjoy, to cherish and treasure his touch, her body humming with pleasure, until the tip of his tongue brushed against hers.

  Instantly, an old panic leapt up in her heart, freezing her limbs.

  And yet, his touch was anything but repulsive. It felt nothing like the sickening sensation that had almost overpowered her that night long ago. His touch remained gentle and considerate, far from the forceful attack she’d experienced.

  And yet, doubt remained. Would he stop if she asked him to? Or would he disregard her wishes and force her into submission?

  Although her mind readily spoke out in his favour, her soul still ached with fear, demanding confirmation. Too painful were the memories that still lived there.