by Regina Darcy
“They missed you while you were gone,” he said, as though he had not heard her.
He stepped closer to her, and she saw what the shadows had been hiding before. His words became clearer by the things they had not said. He had missed her, too. Suppressing the desire to say more than she knew she should, she merely nodded and said, “I missed them as well, Your Grace.”
“Thank you for all you have done for them,” he continued. “They have become my whole world.”
He sounded almost desolate, and Charlotte found herself reaching for him in comfort without thinking. The heat of his skin burned right through her, as she snatched her hands away when she touched him.
“You’re welcome, Your Grace,” she said, “but it is a pleasure to have this job with the girls. So thank you for giving me the opportunity.”
He opened his mouth as though he were going to say something, and then apparently changed his mind. Instead, he walked over to the bed, and reached down to touch the little girls’ foreheads.
Dropping a tender kiss on each cheek, he withdrew, saying a quiet goodnight to her before leaving the room. Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief and prayed for patience, if he were going to visit his sick nieces often while she was tending them. She alternated her time between watching over her charges, and reorganizing the schoolroom. It gave her comfort, as the fever raged on, and the girls continued to be poorly. It surprised her how deeply she worried about the children. It was almost as though they were her own. What would it be like to have her own children, some day, she wondered. She would not mind having babies of her own. Unbidden, an image of herself large with child, assailed her, and she blushed when she realised that she was imagining that the baby was the Duke’s. Such foolish thoughts, she chastised herself. Maybe the fever was also affecting her!
He returned that evening, and this time he sat with her, listening as she read to them. They fell asleep as she was reading, and he kissed their foreheads before turning to her.
“I worry that they are not improving,” he admitted as he sat there, his arms across his chest, he legs crossed at the ankles. “I know now, after having had them with me for so long, how desolate my home, and my life would be without them in it.”
“Your Grace, we must keep hope and pray that they will fully recover. Do not give up hope. Your nieces are strong little girls. They will fight this illness and win.”
“I appreciate your taking such good care of them, Miss Williams,” he said. “You have a kind and nurturing spirit.”
She smiled at him. “It is easy to be kind to them, Your Grace.”
He visited again the next night, when Eliza’s fever broke. Mary Anne remained fretful and hot, and Charlotte asked when a physician would come to see them.
“My own doctor was out of the city, but has now returned and is on his way here. He should arrive by mid-morning. I will bring him right up when he arrives.”
“Very well, Your Grace. I will let Molly know so that she can be prepared.”
She bathed their brows and limbs with tepid water, and forced Eliza to swallow some of the concoction that cook had made up, but she could get nothing into Mary Anne. The Duke moved closer, taking the spoon from her hands which had gone numb at the contact with his flesh. She stumbled away from the bedside, going to stand by the window, gazing out at the darkness and trying to get control of her breathing and racing heart. When she heard movement, she turned and found him standing close to her.
“She will not eat,” he said, his voice hoarse. “What shall we do?”
“There is nothing to do but wait. The doctor will be here tomorrow. You should get some rest, Your Grace,” she said.
He stared into her face, his eyes boring into her, making Charlotte acutely aware of his body and of her own interest in it. She moved away, and he said, “You make even this sick room a good place to be, Miss Williams. Thank you.” He smiled and departed.
The next morning, the doctor arrived just after breakfast, and was taken up to the children’s room, where Charlotte was waiting for him. She moved away to stand by the window while he examined the girls. The Duke stood on the other side of the bed, watching the man like a hawk guarding her chicks.
“The good news is, it isn’t consumption, as you feared, Your Grace. However, Mary Anne’s slighter frame and weaker system is fighting it harder than Eliza’s needs to. Eliza is a stronger child, and she will mend quickly. You will need to watch the little one carefully. If there is no change in forty-eight hours, you will need to fetch a doctor again.”
He handed the duke a vial with some liquid in it. “Make sure that they get this, a teaspoonful, twice a day.”
“Thank you, Doctor!” The Duke smiled at the man, and escorted him from the room, leaving the vial on the side table.
As soon as they were gone, Charlotte fetched the spoon and tipped the vial to it, then raised Eliza to administer the medication. The little girl choked on the bad taste, but she swallowed and Charlotte let her sip some water to rinse away the taste. Then she lay back, exhausted, and was soon asleep again. Then she turned to Mary Anne, wondering how she would get the medicine down. As she contemplated what to do, the duke walked back in. He must have seen her perplexity, because he asked,
“Is everything all right?”
Charlotte turned to look at him and said, “Yes. Everything is well. I just need your help to hold Mary Anne while I give her the medicine.”
She instructed him on how to hold the child, poured the teaspoon’s worth of medicine into the spoon, and pinched her nose, forcing her to swallow so she that could get some air. She also coughed, but hers was a harsher sound than her sister’s. The Duke lay her gently against the pillows.
“Molly will return shortly, Your Grace,” she told him, wondering why he had returned to begin with. Smiling at him, she resumed her seat and he walked over to her.
“You are a tower of strength,” he told her, a smile on his face. “Good morning, Miss Williams.”
He left after that, and Charlotte schooled herself not to feel disappointed that he seemed to be following her lead and keeping the lines clear cut between them. Later, a she took her daily constitutional around the garden, he caught her unawares by the hedge where she had been when she had first heard the three women talking about him and his affairs.
“I am glad to have caught up with you before you returned to the house, Miss Williams,” he said. “I must tell you that I admire you greatly.”
Charlotte stiffened her spine. This could not be happening. She had done everything she knew to do to avoid being caught up in the very situation which now loomed.
“Your Grace, while I appreciate the sentiment, I am sure you recognize how inappropriate it would be for you to act upon such feelings.”
“Miss Williams...Charlotte, may I call you Charlotte?” At her almost imperceptible nod, he went on, “Charlotte, you have enchanted me from the beginning. You are such a breath of fresh air. I am happy that I chose you.”
He took her hand in his as he spoke, the strength of his feelings making his hands shake a little as he brought it to his lips, turning it over to kiss her palm. She snatched her hand away, though she could not remove the imprint of his heated lips against her skin, and ran as though the hounds of Hell were snapping at her heels. She did not stop until she was safely in her rooms, away from the temptation that was the Duke.
Edmund let her run away, though he did pause to wonder if he had offended her. He knew what he had to do. He had told her before that he must be himself, and he refused any longer to deny his feelings for the woman raising his nieces. He would ask her to marry him, conventions be damned! The people who cared about him would be happy for him, even his sharp-tongued Aunt Agnes. He would need to speak with her father before he addressed her, and obtain his permission to marry his daughter, who was still below the age of consent. No one could be more mature than Charlotte, he knew, but this was one convention he chose to follow, as it would make her happy, and plea
se her parents, who no doubt also knew of his reputation.
He visited the girls once more before he left to see her father, choosing to go when he knew Molly was there, and the following morning, before he took himself off to see her parents, he stopped by the schoolroom, where he knew she hid from him, to ask her,
“Did I offend you yesterday with my attentions?” Clearly shocked by his directness, she answered no, and he continued. “Then what did I do wrong to make you run from me?”
“I cannot accept your attentions, Your Grace. Such a connection is not permitted between us.”
“Do you believe I would do anything to hurt you?” he asked.
She shook her head, unable to speak.
“I am in love with you, Charlotte Williams. You have completely captured my heart.”
“I cannot believe you, Your Grace,” she whispered, distressed more than she could understand. “You do not know what love is. Nor do I. We barely know each other.”
“Believe me when I say I know what love is now. I am sure you know of my reputation with women, but I assure you that I am a changed man where you are concerned.”
Dumbfounded, Charlotte could only stare at him. She wished she could believe that what he said was real, but the evidence to the contrary was overwhelming. She would not become another rejected woman. When he reached for her, she backed away, avoiding his gaze, and after a long, breathless moment, he walked away. She didn’t know where he went, though she observed him leaving in the carriage next morning. Meanwhile, she finally began to see a change in the pallor of Mary Anne’s skin. Her fever broke at last, and by evening her cough was less ragged. Eliza continued to mend quickly, though she was still too weak to sit up for more than an hour at a time. The days melted into one another, and by the weekend, the girls were much improved.
EIGHT
Charlotte had not seen the Duke since his unexpected kiss in the garden four days earlier, and their confrontation in the schoolroom. She was grateful for the reprieve, though she wished things could be different between them. She could still remember vividly how her whole body heated up when his lips touched her hand, and the warmth of his breath on her skin made her whole arm tingle. Even now, her heartbeat raced as she thought of him, and of the effect that his very nearness had upon her. She would have to find a different position, she realised. She could not live here, in the same house with him, any longer. There was too much at stake for her to be foolish and harbour any hope that he might have serious intentions. And she couldn’t stay here where her heart would surely be broken.
The girls were asleep, and she had an hour or two to kill before she relieved Molly at their bedside. She was sitting in the schoolroom reading when the butler appeared at her door.
“Ah, Miss Williams,” he said, “The Duke wishes to speak with you about the girls.”
He paused, looking around the space with appreciative eyes. The children’s artwork was displayed everywhere, and the light made them all look beautiful. Then he continued. “Please follow me.”
Putting her book down, she followed him out of the schoolroom, closing the door behind her, and dreading the meeting that was to come. Was she to be let go because she had refused to believe him? Would he try to force her to agree to an clandestine liaison? She squared her shoulders, and by the time they reached his study door, she stood ramrod straight. Milton knocked, and then opened the door, ushering her inside before closing it behind her.
“Please, Charlotte, have a seat,” he began, and she sat down in the chair closest to the door.
“Would you care for a glass of port?” he asked.
“No, thank you, Your Grace.” She kept her answers simple.
“You’re probably wondering why I have summoned you here,” he said.
Charlotte nodded. “I am, Your Grace.”
“I spent a day with your father before going up to London to procure an item that I needed for this meeting.”
He let the words fill the space between them, and Charlotte wondered what bad news he had taken to her parents, or why he had needed to visit them.
“As I have been telling you, you have far surpassed my expectations for what a governess can do. And I have formed a devoted attachment to you.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a raised hand.
“I know that you do not believe that my feelings for you are genuine. But before I provide you with the first piece of evidence, I need to know what you will do when I prove that my feelings are real. How will you respond? Will you still reject me, Charlotte? Have I been wrong in thinking that perhaps you feel some attachment to me as well?”
Charlotte raised her eyes to his face, suddenly wishing she had accepted the glass of wine. She needed some liquid courage. She knew what he wanted to know, and knew it was only fair that she say how she felt as well. She could prevaricate, and so stop them from going further down the path on which they were currently heading. Or she could speak the truth, and prepare to have her heart ripped out.
“Do not think to lie to me, Charlotte,” he warned her, “for I will know, and it will displease me. I have told you that I will never hurt you, and I keep my word, when I give it of my own free will. So tell me plainly, how do you feel about me?”
She cleared her throat, and spoke quietly. “I also have formed an attachment to you, Your Grace.”
She could not look him in the eye, but suddenly, he was in her personal space, lifting her chin and staring into her eyes.
“My name is Edmund, my love,” he informed her. “Your Grace is who I am to others, not to the woman who loves me. And let me tell you plainly that I wish to marry you, and live with you in love and harmony,” he said. “And the proof that I am not misguided in my feelings is here, in this ring.”
He went down on one knee beside her chair, and opened his palm. On it sat the most perfect emerald ring.
“Will you be mine, sweet Charlotte?” he asked her. “Will you marry me, and be my Duchess?”
Tears glistened in her eyes as Charlotte looked at the man she was finally free to admit that she loved. She could not speak, so she nodded, and he took her left hand, placing the jewel on it, and then leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips.
“You have no idea how much it means to me that you have trusted me with your heart,” he said. “I know that you have heard about the other engagements, and that I have left two others at the altar. It is all true. But I knew I could not marry someone I did not love, despite society’s expectations. And then I met you. You did not ask anything of me, unless it was for my nieces. You did not try to lay a trap for me because you wanted my wealth or status. Instead, you avoided me, and kept all our meetings professional. You showed love and care for my nieces, and respect for my status. I was helpless against the allure of your honest innocence and warmth.”
He kissed her cheek and rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. “I promise not to leave you standing alone at the altar, sweet Charlotte. I have asked your father for your hand, and he has given his consent for me to address you. My Aunt Agnes will return to chaperone you until our marriage, and I will look to find a new governess for the girls.”
“No!” Charlotte finally found her voice. When Edmund looked at her in surprise, she said, “I will continue to teach the girls. They do not need another woman in their lives. They have me, they know me, and hopefully they will soon learn to love me.”
Edmund smiled. “I think we already have that covered, my love,” he said. “They have been working on a gift for you for quite some time, and I have been helping them with it. It will be unveiled at Christmas time, but trust me when I say it will provide another piece of evidence of the love that you inspire in us.”
Charlotte eyed him with delight. “When is your aunt arriving?” she asked, ever aware of the need to act with decorum.
“Later today,” he said. “She was privy to my intentions before she left the last time.”
“I will need to get rea
dy, then,” she said. “I shall wear my new gown.”
The weeks that followed were filled with planning for their wedding. Charlotte continued to teach the girls, who had started to call her Aunt Charlotte, and insisted on keeping her tea engagements with Mrs Thomson, whom she informed that she would be making their tea meetings mandatory, in the same way that Milton and the duke had a weekly session. She knew that things would never be exactly the same as before, but she wanted to ensure that she kept herself grounded by remaining true to who she was.
Her wedding dress was being made by a goddess of high French fashion from London, and she had been up twice for fittings. After her second visit, as she and Edmund were sitting down to tea with Lady Agnes, Milton announced Lady Henrietta Aston and her sister Lady Sarah Aston. Charlotte and his aunt remained seated while Edmund rose to meet his uninvited guests.
“Ladies, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Edmund asked, ushering them in and inviting them to sit across from where he and Charlotte sat.
Milton brought in another tray for tea things for two more, and Charlotte poured the tea as they talked. She said nothing, leaving Edmund to make the necessary introductions and explanations.
“Rumour has it that you are once again attached, Lord Edmund,” Henrietta began. “We just wanted to confirm it. Mama gave us leave to visit as we heard that you, Lady Agnes, are now in residence, as well.”
Edmund smiled. “All the rumours are true, ladies. I am indeed attached again, and my Aunt Agnes is in residence to provide a chaperone for my betrothed, who also happens to be my nieces’ governess. Please meet Miss Charlotte Williams.”
He gestured toward Charlotte, who sipped her tea delicately, secretly pleased that she had managed to get what Henrietta Aston had so badly wanted, and all without trying. She looked up as he stopped speaking, and smiled brightly at them both.
“My darling, meet Lady Henrietta Aston, and Lady Sarah Aston. We are neighbours.”