by Bree Wolf
Loosening her hold on him, she retreated, pulling away, hoping, praying that he would understand.
As she stepped back, he followed, his mouth capturing hers once again.
Instantly, Charlotte tensed, her hands coming up to block his path. Would history repeat itself?
The second her hands pressed against his chest, his lips stilled and he lifted his head, his deep blue gaze finding hers. Panting, he searched her face, seeing the tension that lingered in her eyes as they begged him to stop. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and repentant. “I suppose when you kissed me back, I got carried away. I’m sorry.”
Joy came to his face then, and his eyes roamed hers with such delight that she smiled back at him.
Lifting his hand, he reached for her, but then stopped. “May I?”
Swallowing, Charlotte nodded.
As the knuckles of his hand gently brushed over her cheek, she closed her eyes, enjoying the softness of his touch.
“I was truly scared there for a moment,” he whispered, and her eyes opened. “I thought I’d lost you. I looked at you, and,” pain edged into his face, he shook his head, “you were gone. What happened?”
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte held his gaze, trying to remember. “I’m not certain,” she whispered. “I remember speaking to Victoria, and then …” Her voice trailed off as elusive images drifted before her eyes, like a dream she couldn’t quite grasp.
When she hesitated, he said, “I found you downstairs on your way to the drawing room, a pistol in your hand.”
Charlotte’s mouth opened in shock before the images cleared, filling in the blanks. Then she swallowed and met his eyes, not knowing what to say.
“Did you truly intend to kill him?”
Charlotte sighed. “He deserves it.”
“I know he does,” her husband agreed, and yet, his face remained tense. “But despite what you believe, you do not deserve to hang for it.”
Charlotte swallowed, almost feeling the noose tighten around her neck. “How do you know?” she whispered, feeling tears sting her eyes. “I told you what I did, and yet, you believe me to be innocent. Why?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m selfish, but I can’t imagine being without you ever again.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms, his eyes pleading as he looked down at her. “We’ll find another way. Please don’t do this. Promise me that you will not try again. You’d ruin your life … as well as mine.”
Shaking her head, Charlotte closed her eyes, feeling tears run down her face. “My life is forfeit,” she whispered, then looked up at him, her vision blurred. “In truth, I died a long time ago … or at least I should have. I cannot go on pretending to have a life. The mistakes I’ve made have led me here. This,” she swallowed, nodding her head, “is the way it’s supposed to be. This is my chance. If I can give my life to protect your sister as well as her baby, then that is a trade I’m willing to make.”
“I’m not,” he growled, his hands tightening around her protectively.
For a moment, Charlotte couldn’t help but smile. She had been so certain that she would never know what it felt like to be loved. And now, here she was, married to a man who had truly come to love her. Now, when it was too late.
“No one in this world is free of mistakes,” he continued, his eyes imploring her to believe him, “of having done wrong. Some worse than others, yes, but at some point, you need to find a way to forgive yourself and move on. It is time to let go of the past and look to the future.”
Oh, how I wish I could! Charlotte thought, knowing that there was only one way she could make him leave her side and allow her to pay her debt.
Her insides cringed as she dimly recalled Victoria’s words. Sebastian and the late Lord Elmridge grew up together and were good friends.
“I took someone’s life,” she reminded him, watching his eyes cloud with pain and regret before a solemn determination pushed them away.
“That was a long time ago,” he replied, nodding his head as though trying to convince himself.
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte steeled herself for what was to come. “That is always easy to say when you speak of a faceless someone with no name, no family. The loss, the pain is not as severe as when you can truly picture the colour of his eyes, the smile that came to his lips when he saw his wife enter a room or the love that shone in his eyes when he gazed upon his daughter.” As her teeth began to chatter, Charlotte clenched her hands, holding on desperately to what little control she had left. “What you feel is a sense of regret that someone lost his life,” she continued, seeing uncomfortable tension come to his shoulders as he came to realise that he couldn’t sway her from her path. “But everything changes when the one who was lost receives a face and a name, when he becomes more than just a casualty, a headline in the paper, when his life receives a deeper meaning.” Swallowing, she looked up at him. “Do you wish to know who he was?”
Chapter Forty-One − Awakening
Holding his breath, Sebastian stared at her. Somehow, he knew that she was right. There was something in her eyes, something in the way she looked at him that told him that once he knew, everything would be different.
Right then and there, he could not imagine it to be true, and yet, the certainty in her eyes scared him nearly witless and he almost bolted for the door, afraid to hear what she had to say.
Afraid that she would be truly lost to him.
“Tell me,” he whispered instead, every single muscle in his body tense to the point of breaking. Although he dreaded to know the truth, he also knew that if they were to have a chance−as slim as it might be−that this was the only way. He had to know, and he could only hope that the truth would not shatter him.
She swallowed then, and the tip of her tongue snaked out to wet her lips. Her eyes met his, and unfathomable pain and regret rested in them as she opened her mouth. “It was your friend,” she whispered, and his heart stopped, “Leopold Lancaster, the late Marquess of Elmridge.”
Staring at her, Sebastian felt the weight of her words crash into him like blows to his body, and he staggered backwards, his knees suddenly weak. The air was knocked from his lungs, and his stomach turned, threatening to expel its contents. “Leopold?” he gasped, hoping it wasn’t true, and yet, knowing that it could not be otherwise. “You? That was you?” he demanded, rage burning in his heart as the pain of his friend’s loss hit him with such force as though he had just died in his arms.
“Forgiveness is far from easy when the loss is your own,” she whispered, her tear-streaked face the picture of misery, and yet, he could not bring himself to care.
Instead, his insides burned with uncontrollable rage, only held in check by the need to understand why anyone would kill a man as honourable and kind as his friend had been. “Why?” he forced out through gritted teeth. “Why him? He never hurt you, did he?”
“No.”
“Then why him?” he growled out, his hands clenched, and he took a step back, lest he lunge himself at her. “He was not the one who …” He shook his head, the thoughts in his mind running rampant. “You’re right if anyone deserves to die, it’s Northfield. Why not him? Why did you not go after him?”
“I never went after your friend,” she whispered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “It was an accident, a horrible accident, but it was my fault. He took the poisoned drink meant for another man.”
Sebastian stilled, staring at her. “Northfield?”
“No,” his wife said, taking a deep breath. “His brother, Frederick.”
Again, the world turned upside down that Sebastian could barely keep his feet under him. Shaking his head, he stared at her. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would you want to kill either one of them? I’ve known them my whole life.”
“As have I,” Charlotte whispered, holding his gaze.
Sebastian blinked, and a distant memory of a little brown-haired girl flashed before his eyes as she had raced around the garde
ns, always trailing behind young Frederick and his friends. What had been their names? Oliver and…Kenneth!
“Charlotte,” he whispered as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Although he had learnt her true name a matter of days ago, it had not been familiar and Sebastian had not had the opportunity to make enquiries into who she had been.
Now, he knew.
And yet, he still didn’t understand. “Tell me what happened,” he growled out, taking another step back, unable to bear the pained look in her eyes. She did not deserve his pity, or his compassion, not after what she had done.
Shaking his head, Sebastian swallowed, realising that everything was indeed different now. She had been right. He could not forgive her for what she had done, and neither did she deserve to forgive herself.
A knock sounded on the door. “Sebastian? Charlotte? Are you in there?” came Victoria’s voice.
“Not now!” Sebastian snarled, regret filling his heart at his harsh tone. “Please leave,” he added, then raised his gaze to his wife once more. “Tell me what happened.”
Taking a deep breath, his wife turned away from him, her eyes focused out of the window at the horizon in the distance. “It all began that night about four years ago at Lord Radcliffe’s ball.” Her hands clenched, and a shiver shook her delicate frame.
“Northfield?”
She nodded, and another tear ran down her cheek. “I don’t think I can put into words what that night did to me. And yet, it still got worse. When I told my parents what he had done, they said it was my fault. My father said I had allowed him to compromise me and insisted I accept his marriage proposal.” With tears in her eyes, she looked at him. “My father called him a decent man for offering for me after what had happened, for not trying to evade his responsibility.”
Sebastian swallowed, his throat tightening with the pain and despair that hung in the room like a heavy fog.
“I didn’t know what to do,” she continued, turning her gaze back out the window, reliving the moments of her past that had changed everything. “I knew I had no choice, and yet, the thought of marrying him felt like a death sentence.” For a moment, she closed her eyes and a soft smile came to her lips. “And then Kenneth saved me.”
“He asked you to marry him instead,” Sebastian said when she remained quiet.
“He did.” Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath as she stared out the window. “We grew up together. He was the brother I never had, and I loved him fiercely, followed him everywhere like the little sister he didn’t want. More than once he snapped at me to leave him alone,” she chuckled, shaking her head, “but I didn’t. I always felt most alive by his side, and over time, we grew closer.”
Stepping back, Sebastian leaned against the wall, his head rolling back, and closed his eyes, listening.
“He was the only one who saw that something was wrong,” she whispered, “the only one who didn’t blame me, who stood by my side, willing to sacrifice his own happiness to protect me.” As her teeth began to chatter, she closed her eyes, arms wrapped around herself as shivers shook her. “And then he was gone.”
Again, silence hung about the room, and although Sebastian felt reluctant to hear more, he knew he needed to know. “You said he died in the war,” he prompted, urging her to continue.
Brushing a tear from her face, she took a deep breath. “He did,” she confirmed. “Frederick had always been the one to seek out adventures, and Kenneth had always followed in his path. When Frederick had gone off to war, Kenneth had followed as he always had.”
“Why didn’t he at least marry you first?” Sebastian asked. “He must have known that there was a chance he wouldn’t return.”
“Everything happened very fast. Frederick had been speaking of joining our forces on the continent for a while, but then one day, he was simply gone. Without saying goodbye, he had left.” Again, her shoulders tensed, and her fingernails dug into her arms as she held herself tightly. “Kenneth was frantic with worry, knowing how fearless Frederick could be, and before I knew what had happened, he had left as well.” She closed her eyes, and he could see the reluctance to go on on her face. “The day I learnt of his death, I lost my baby.”
Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath, his resolve not to feel for her crumbling before his eyes.
Her lips quivered, and she swallowed the sobs that threatened to spill from her mouth. “I was devastated. Losing Kenneth and then losing my child, I … I broke down and sobbed for days.” Her fingers dug into her flesh, and the sinews on her hands stood out white. “Although I mourned the loss of my child, I was also relieved because it was a constant reminder of that night. Torn, I didn’t know what to think or feel. What was right? What was wrong? I couldn’t tell. I felt it all, and yet, nothing felt right and nothing felt wrong. It all lost meaning.” Turning around, she met his eyes, and the despair he saw there almost brought him to his knees. “You have no idea what it feels like to be torn apart from the inside.”
Forcing the growing sympathy for her from his heart, Sebastian held her gaze unflinching, an open accusation in his eyes.
As though in answer, she nodded. “None of this can excuse what I did. All I can do is attempt to explain why it happened.”
Gritting his teeth, Sebastian swallowed. “Why did you try to kill Frederick?”
Licking her lips, she turned to the window once more as though she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes as she dragged the past into the light of day. “When Kenneth died, … it changed everything. I was no longer safe. Northfield renewed his proposal, and my parents insisted.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “And this time, there was no one to save me. The only one who’d always been there for me had just died. I was all alone, and they were coming at me from all sides. I felt cornered, and then …,” she shrugged, a hint of bewilderment marking her face, “suddenly, all the pain and fear went away, replaced by a terrible hatred. It drowned out the pain and banished the fear from my heart. It made me strong. Although a part of me knew that it was wrong, I clung to it.” Tears now ran freely down her face. “I couldn’t bear it any longer. I was tired and terrified, and the weight of this life felt like it would crush me any moment.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “So, I clung to the hatred that grew in my heart, and it made me do terrible things.” Again, her eyes shifted to his, pleading with him not to forgive, but to understand. “I wish I could say it hadn’t been me, but it had. Deep down, I knew it had been me.”
When he didn’t respond, didn’t even blink, she dropped her gaze and turned back to the window. “After all the grief and pain and fear, it was easier to hate. It was such a relief, and so I hated him, hated him for taking everything from me, for killing Kenneth.” She swallowed, hanging her head. “The night Leopold died, I spoke to Frederick on the terrace, and when I looked in his eyes, I saw guilt. He, too, thought that he had killed Kenneth, and it broke my heart all over again.”
Again, she looked up and met his eyes. “After speaking to Frederick, after learning how Kenneth had died, I’d meant to kill myself that night.”
The breath caught in Sebastian’s throat, and his heart twisted in agony at the thought of how close he had come to losing her. And yet, he would never even have known, for she would never have entered his life to begin with … if she had died that night instead of Leopold.
“That’s why I had the poison,” she continued. “I didn’t set out to harm Frederick, but the look in his eyes changed everything.” Again, her fingers dug into her arms. “When I saw Leopold take the glass from Frederick, I froze,” closing her eyes, she shook her head, “and before I could stop him, he had downed it. And then he was dead …; I hated Frederick even more. After that, I lost all thought, all reason. I walked as though in a fog. I spoke and listened, and yet, nothing mattered. Life and death lost all meaning. The only thing that remained was my hatred. And so, I tried again, and again. I failed. Then I saw the love he had for his wife, saw the life he was building for himself, the l
ife I had always wanted but now never would have, and I couldn’t bear it. Deep down, I was so enraged that I wanted to make him suffer just like I did by taking everything from him he cared about.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Fortunately, she survived. She and the baby.”
With each word she spoke, Sebastian found his emotions had become more and more dulled. It was as though his body could no longer deal with the sheer mass of their onslaught and abandoned all hope to differentiate and process. “His name is Leo,” he whispered, unsure why he felt the need to tell her.
Her eyes rose to his, and for a moment, she simply looked at him before a soft smile came to her lips. “That is good,” she whispered in return.
“What happened then?” Sebastian asked, unable to hold the weight of her gaze any longer. “How did you end up at Farnworth Manor?”
“When Frederick learnt what I had done, he returned me to my parents.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why he did not demand retribution. I had hoped he would. I had counted on it. And when he let me live, I didn’t know what to do. My soul felt as though it had died.” Again, she met his eyes. “How do you live when you are dead inside? I didn’t know, but I didn’t need to. My parents had me locked away at Winham Institute, and for a long time, I remained dead. I didn’t feel. I didn’t think. I just breathed. In and out. In and out. Day after day.” She took a deep breath. “Until the day of the fire.”
“The fire?”
“I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know how I got out. All I know is that it … it woke me.” A touch of disbelief came to her eyes, and she shook her head. “And slowly I returned to the surface. The soul I thought had been dead awoke. It was tattered and bruised, barely functional, but it was there.” Shrugging her shoulders, she met his eyes. “And so, I left. I simply walked away.”
Chapter Forty-Two – A Predator on the Prowl