An Unwilling Earl

by Sharon Cullen

  “Very well,” she said in defeat. “A week.”

  He smiled, and she knew he thought he’d won the war, but he’d only won the battle. She was still waging the war.

  “Would you like to meet my wife? I’m sure she’s outside the door pacing and wringing her hands. She was never happy with my father for what he did to your mother.”

  Again, Charlotte felt she had no choice. All of her choices were being taken away from her. That would all change when she got to America. In America she would decide her future.

  …

  When Charlotte returned to Jacob’s home she found him in his study, pacing, his hair askew as if he’d run his fingers through it numerous times. When he saw her walk through the door his look of relief would have been comical if the situation weren’t so frightening.

  “There you are.”

  “Did you think I had run off?”

  “I didn’t know what happened to you. I thought your aunt…” He swallowed the last of what he was going to say and looked at her with such desperation and despair that her heart turned over for him. He may not love me, but he does have feelings for me.

  “I called on Lord Chadley,” she said. “I asked him for the funds to sail to America and for a letter of reference.”

  “I see.” He was very still, as if he were afraid to move.

  “He told me to wait a week.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. It had taken so much courage to approach her uncle after she had insisted over and over that she didn’t want anything to do with him.

  “I’m sorry,” Jacob said. “I know how hard it was for you to go to him.”

  She pulled the lavender confection of a hat off and let it dangle between her fingers by the strings. “I just want to get on with my life.”

  “I know you do, and I know you think that America is the answer to all of your difficulties, but delaying a week could be a good thing. This will give us time to go to the police with our suspicions.”

  She slumped into the nearest chair in a most unladylike way and looked dejectedly at the floor. Even her shoes were from a dead woman. Her underthings, everything. She was living with a dead woman’s husband.

  She closed her eyes in despair, feeling lost and confused. Did she even have a life that was hers anymore? She was being pulled in so many different directions that the strain was overwhelming, and she was beginning to wonder if America was truly the answer to her problems.

  Certainly she would create a new life, a new identity. But would it help? Because she was dragging the old Charlotte Morris behind her. An accessory to her baggage that she would never shed. Some part of Charlotte Morris would always be inside of her, tapping on the door to be let out.

  “I’m afraid, Jacob. I’m afraid my aunt will convince the authorities that I am mentally unstable and that they will agree that I should return to her care.” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “I’m just so afraid,” she whispered.

  Jacob knelt in front of her and put his arms around her, enfolding her in his warmth and strength. He smelled like a combination of spices and soap. It was a comforting smell.

  She wanted to cry and collapse into him and tell him she was afraid that she was losing herself. She was terrified to go to America where she knew no one, and at the same time she yearned to get away, to start anew.

  “I know you’re scared, Charlotte, but I will protect you. And your uncle will protect you, and if need be, I will pull Lord Armbruster into this and he will protect you as well. You’re not alone in this. No matter what you think, you are not alone.”

  She drew in a shuddering breath and let her weariness lean into him. “What did I do to deserve all of you? None of you know me, and yet you all want to help.”

  “We care about you. To Lord Chadley you are family. And to me… Well, to me you are someone very special.”

  But not special enough. She pushed the thought away, tired of telling herself that she was not for him. It was not her problem that he was still mourning his wife. After all, didn’t her own papa mourn her mother until the day he died?

  “What if it is not enough?” she whispered. “What if all of your resources are not sufficient to convince the police that I am right and my aunt is wrong?”

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes, his gaze dark and unreadable. “There is always marriage.”

  “I said I would not marry anyone who did not love me.”

  “Even if it saves your life and possibly the lives of others?”

  She looked away, chilled with the possibilities. Could she? Could she marry him under these conditions? She wanted a love like her mother and father had, but maybe that type of love didn’t come around frequently. Maybe for some it didn’t happen at all, and you settled for comfort and friendship. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? “You’re making me sound selfish.”

  “What if we wed to keep you safe for now, and if you still want to go to America after this is all over then I will let you go?”

  “You would do that?” she asked. “You would wed me for that reason alone?”

  “I would wed you for many reasons. I told you that last night.”

  “What do you get out of such a marriage? Scandal that your new wife ran away, leaving you?”

  He hesitated. “But my life is rapidly changing. A wife would… Well, to be honest, a wife would keep the matchmaking mamas from my front door.”

  “So I am to be a Trojan Horse of sorts?” She found the idea amusing rather than mortifying. Was Jacob that afraid of the voracious mothers trying to find a good match for their simpering daughters?

  “I see it as you protecting me just as I am protecting you.”

  “A marriage of convenience.”

  He tilted his head in admission. “With the added benefit that we know each other rather well. We would not be coming into this as complete strangers.”

  She liked the idea of paying him back for the kindness and hospitality that he’d bestowed on her. And she liked the fact that he needed her help, rather than her always needing his help. Yet, it was quite a high price to pay for both of them.

  “You will truly let me go to America when this is finished?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “What if I decide to stay? You will be burdened with me for the rest of your days.”

  One corner of his lips lifted in a smile. “I think I can live with that.”

  “I might be an ogre of a wife.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  She would be a countess, but that mattered little to her. If there was one thing she had learned from her mother and father it was that titles meant little in the face of happiness. And maybe, just maybe, they could find happiness.

  “And if I left, would you divorce me?”

  “If that is what you want.”

  “You are an earl now. You have to think of the continuation of the earldom. You need heirs. What woman will marry a divorced earl?”

  “According to you, there are plenty of American heiresses just lining up to marry us.”

  She laughed at the thought of Jacob marrying an American, even as the thought twisted like a knife inside of her. “Even in America, divorce is frowned upon.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Charlotte. I’m sure the crown can find some distant relative who will fill my shoes when I’m gone.”

  The thought of Jacob gone saddened her. The thought of eventually leaving him saddened her even more, but the thought of a long life with him, knowing he still loved Cora and would never love her that way, made her even sadder.

  How to pick between all of the sadness?

  Chapter Twenty

  One week later the ceremony was attended by Lord Armbruster, Lord Chadley, and Lady Sarah Crawford. Jacob insisted that Charlotte purchase a gown of her own. She suspected that he didn’t want to wed her while she was wearing his dead wife’s clothing.

  She chose a simple gown of light blue, something serviceable that she wou
ld be able to wear again.

  Sarah had helped her pick it out.

  The ceremony was short. Charlotte thought it only took a few minutes, but Sarah insisted it had been a little longer than that. Charlotte had tried not to look at Jacob, afraid of what she would see. Regret? Sadness?

  She’d finally agreed to marry him because she felt it was her only choice. In the end, she knew that she couldn’t turn her back on the women of London who were in danger perhaps because of Edmund.

  But before she could save others, she needed to secure her own safety, and marrying Jacob was the only way to do that. Now that she was out of the clutches of her aunt, the baroness could spout all kinds of lies about Charlotte, but her husband’s name and title would protect her.

  Charlotte was now the Countess of Ashland.

  Mrs. Smith held a small feast afterward with just the five of them in attendance. Chadley, Armbruster, and Sarah tried to make it festive. There were a few toasts and some strained smiles. It was the first time she’d met Armbruster, and she found him engaging and fun. He and Jacob told tales of when they were at Eton together and had everyone laughing. She could see they had a close friendship forged over many years. It was hinted by Mrs. Smith that Armbruster was the one who had saved Jacob from his grief after Cora’s death.

  Eventually they left, and Charlotte faced her husband.

  Her husband.

  She twisted the plain gold band around her finger, realized what she was doing, and dropped her hands to her sides. They stared at each other, an awkward silence between them.

  “So,” she said, just to fill the silence. She really had no idea what to say after that. They’d not talked at all about what would happen after the ceremony.

  “I know this wasn’t your ideal wedding,” Jacob said. “But I think it was for the best.”

  “Knowing that I don’t have to fear my aunt anymore makes it worth it.”

  “At least I can give you that. You are very beautiful in your new gown,” he said.

  “Thank you.” She pulled on the ends of her hair. It was getting longer, but only by increments. It would take years for her hair to be the length it was before. Mrs. Smith had parted it to the side and swept it behind her ears. A fringe of it had fallen across her forehead, giving her a softer look. Instead of a veil she had worn a ring of white and soft pink flowers on her head.

  She glanced outside, surprised to see it was still daylight. It seemed she had lived a hundred days since she had awoken this morning. No, her wedding day had not been what she had envisioned since she was a little girl—never had she thought she would have to marry in order to save herself—but it had still been wonderful.

  “Charlotte.” He stepped closer and took her hands in his, just as he’d done when they’d said their vows. “I just want you to know that I do care deeply for you and I do not mind if we spent the rest of our days together.”

  “Thank you.” An awkward silence enveloped them. “I think I’ll go rest now,” she said. “The day has worn me out.”

  “Of course.”

  Did he look disappointed? Had he made other plans? She hesitated, thinking she was mistaken that he would want some time to himself. “Unless you have other plans,” she said.

  “I thought that we could go to the Crystal Palace and maybe get some ices while we were there. Have you been before?”

  “Oh.” She was surprised at his thoughtfulness—that he would want to make this day special. “No. I’ve never been. That sounds like fun.”

  “If you’re too tired we can plan it for another day.”

  “No. I just didn’t think that you might have made plans for us. I’m not all that tired anymore.” And suddenly she wasn’t. The prospect of doing something ordinary appealed to her. No longer did she have to worry that someone from church might see her and report back to her aunt.

  She could be a normal person, enjoying a nice day with her husband.

  Her husband.

  The thought sent butterflies flitting through her stomach.

  She had a husband.

  She was a wife.

  She was a countess.

  That was a thought that she couldn’t wrap her mind around just yet. She didn’t want to become accustomed to that because someday soon she would be none of those things again.

  And that was good.

  That was right.

  That was what she wanted and as it should be.

  This was just temporary.

  But for now, she would enjoy the day, eat ices, and explore the exhibition hall with her husband.

  …

  If Jacob was going to be completely honest with himself, he would admit that he liked the feel of Charlotte’s hand on his arm as they strolled through the Crystal Palace.

  Charlotte had heard much about the Crystal Palace but had never seen it. Such an extravagance would have been deemed sinful by her aunt. When Charlotte first glimpsed the massive glass structure it took her breath away.

  “What do you think?” Jacob asked as they stopped on the street to stare up at it.

  “Never have I ever imagined such a thing in my life. I can see why they refer to it as crystal.” The sun bounced off the massive glass walls, making it appear as if it were glittering in the sun like a million diamonds.

  A pool of water guarded the entrance with delightful dancing water. Jacob was interested to learn how they made the water dance like that, but those questions were for another day. Today was for his new wife.

  Wife.

  Not Cora, but Charlotte.

  He’d never meant to marry again, but here he was with a new wife under strange circumstances. He didn’t feel as guilty as he thought he would. He thought maybe that Cora would understand. She used to say that he was a great advocate for those who needed it, and if anyone needed an advocate, it was Charlotte.

  Jacob and Charlotte stepped into the queue while Charlotte looked around in wide-eyed, childish wonder. “This is fabulous,” she said.

  Jacob laughed and squeezed her hand, and for a small moment he was happy. Happier than he’d been since Cora’s death. Their marriage might be a farce—a temporary farce at that—but for right now he would enjoy it for what it was. A glorious day, with a beautiful, witty woman.

  “They say there are ten miles of exhibits,” Jacob said as he handed money over for their entrance fee.

  They walked every bit of the ten miles. Jacob’s head was stuffed full of new information about dinosaurs, fire engines, and flying apparatuses. But the real show was watching Charlotte take it all in, her mouth gaping at the enormous dinosaur or the Egyptian tombs.

  His life had not been filled with adventure or excitement, but he had to remember that Charlotte had lived in the country her whole life until she’d been taken to her aunt, where she’d lived in seclusion, her only outings to church and back.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much,” Jacob said.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this much. Oh, Jacob, this was such a wonderful day.” She hugged his arm and looked up at the soaring glass ceiling to glimpse the blue sky and puffy white clouds above, and Jacob’s heart turned over and a funny feeling overtook him.

  Love? Surely not.

  She quickly let go of his arm and fluffed the skirts of her new gown, color tinging her cheekbones. She was filling out, her bones not nearly as prominent, her cheeks fuller, her eyes not as sunken. And just as he thought, she was turning into a real beauty. He noticed men glancing at her as they walked the exhibits, and he wanted to draw her closer, to proclaim to everyone that she was his.

  His wife.

  He really was getting barmy.

  Tomorrow he would insist that she purchase more gowns. Now that she was in one of her choosing he could see that Cora’s gowns did not suit Charlotte at all. Besides, she needed something of her own.

  He cleared his throat. “How about an ice?”

  “That sounds wonderful.” The awkwardness had returned.

 
; “This truly is one of the greatest wonders of the world,” Charlotte said as they ate their ices inside the main part of the building with the glass ceiling soaring above them.

  “And the sad thing is that it’s only a temporary exhibit. It has to come down next year,” he said.

  “No.” Charlotte set her spoon down and stared at him in disbelief. “But why? It’s such a wonderful opportunity to educate people on all sorts of things.”

  “I hear they are going to try to relocate it.”

  She made a sound of distress as she dug into her ice. She had lemon. He had orange.

  “What was your favorite display?” she asked between bites.

  “I liked the Roman exhibit and the Egyptian. What was yours?”

  “Can I count the building as an exhibit?”

  Jacob laughed, and that warmth grew inside of him. They were having a normal conversation, eating ices, sitting under the clouds at the Crystal Palace, and it all seemed right. “You can count the building as an exhibit. You seem to be impressed by it.”

  “Oh, I am.”

  When they left the exhibition, Charlotte looked back longingly. “I don’t want to leave. I could go through it all again.”

  “Maybe we can return on another day,” he said, hesitant to make plans, although he didn’t know why. They were married. They should be able to make short-term plans, at least.

  It was getting dark when they exited, the sky turning a light purple. Just that morning they had been married. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  They’d never discussed their wedding night, and Jacob found himself anxious to know what she expected. He knew he wanted a marriage in full, with a healthy, active life in the bedroom. Just thinking about it made his trousers tight, but it had been so long since he’d been with a woman—Cora, before she’d become too big and ungainly with their son. He wanted to make love to Charlotte, but he didn’t know if that was his body responding to a normal, basic need or his heart thinking that he wanted to get closer to Charlotte.

  All he knew was that he wanted to take her home and straight up to his bedroom.