by Allie Borne
The only outward manifestation of Lindsay’s inner turmoil was a telltale tightening of her hands on the reigns. “I will speak with you at the picnic, after the hunt,” she offered so quietly that Charles had to lean in to capture her words.
Tilting forward, Lindsay goaded Doc into a canter and met up with a larger group of young men and women ahead. The fleeting look of fear and longing she offered him, as she glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder, nearly undid Charles.
Despite his nobler intentions, an image of Lindsay, her arms wrapped around his neck came into mind. Like a tidal wave, other images followed, Lindsay holding their babe, Lindsay laughing as she lay beneath him in their marriage bed. Charles’ blood began to warm at the thought of being married to such a complex and beautiful young woman. No, that was not possible. She was like his little sister. It was wrong to feel this sexual attraction, wasn’t it? Besides, Lindsay could never truly love a man such as he-average in appearance, beggared in wealth. She had proven that much with her easy dismissal of the far more handsome, yet impoverished Aiden.
No, Lindsay might not want him, but she needed him. How long could she survive, attached to a grasping wastrel or a conniving bastard, such as her father? Charles knew what was best for her, and, true to form, he would act to make it so. Thus resolved, he rode off to join the hunt.
~ ~ ~
“What do you mean, he refuses to see me?” Charles growled, aghast at Sir Stuart’s calm demeanor. “The man abducts me, has me wrongly impressed in the navy, ships his wife off to die in some abysmal hell hole, and he can’t deem to see me?”
“Calm yourself, Sir Charles. I am certain that my son is feeling...uncomfortable about the way he left things with you. It is just that, well, you were indecent in your approach to his daughter and you can’t really fault a man for wanting to protect his own.”
“Indecent? I was indecent. Oh, I’ll show him indecent. And then he’ll have to deal with me, whether he likes it or not.”
Stomping from the clearing where the men had felled a large buck, Charles mounted his horse and rode off toward the picnic area to find Lindsay.
~ ~ ~
Lindsay entered the copse of trees in which the picnickers were encircled. After half an hour of laughing and chatting with Leah and her other female friends, Lindsay noticed Charlotte wandering by herself, along the conifers which lined the clearing. It serves her right for being such a snake, thought Lindsay, but she immediately felt poorly, for, by not forgiving others their slights, how could she, in turn, expect to be forgiven?
Striding with purpose across the grassy knoll, Lindsay approached Charlotte. Not being a missish sort, she came directly to the point. “I’ve been feeling rather put out with you, Charlotte, after the gossip that I endured during my London come out.”
Charlotte paused in her flower inspection to look up at Lindsay, a contemplative look upon her goddess face. “Yes, I suppose you would be.” Charlotte responded forthrightly. “It was my mother’s opinion that I would not fair well on my own merits. Therefore, eliminating the immediate competition was her focus. She insinuated your fragile state, Audrey’s lack of ready funds, Beatrice’s likely inability to bear sons; it was a no end gossip mill. The effect was not what I would call a success for me. You may have been avoided, but more in a hope to avoid the gossip likely to be headed their way. I became a pariah in the worst sense, my only two companions, vicious gossips themselves.”
“I suppose I hadn’t thought of the consequences for you. All of this controversy has been a trial for us both.”
“Do not trouble yourself over much. After the wide swath of damage my mother has wrought, it is nothing I haven’t endured before,” Charlotte smiled sadly, “shall we call a truce?”
“Truce,” agreed Lindsay, smiling and offering her hand. Like men closing a business deal, they shook on it.
“Now, how do you feel about getting a bite to eat?” Charlotte asked. “I am famished and I see the gentlemen have just returned.” As they walked back to the center of the clearing, they began to discuss their plans for the remainder of the house party.
Charles and Aiden dismounted their horses, handed them to a groom, and turned to see Charlotte and Lindsay walking amicably together. “Oh, this cannot be good,” Aiden groaned. “Charlotte and Lindsay together...all of that stubbornness and cunning rolled into one. Charles, we must end this!”
“And end our summer visits? No, we’ll just have to put our tactics of evasion and humor to good use. Come, let’s see how we fair.”
Greeting the young women, Aiden and Charles escorted them to a thick, red blanket, beneath a giant elm. “Tis encouraging to see the two of you getting along, in a genuine sense. What caused the change?” Aiden queried.
“We both realized our affinity with plain speech,” Charlotte extolled, shrugging and biting into a crisp, red apple. Lindsay smiled.
“I have already agreed to stand up for Charlotte at your nuptials, Aiden, I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all, as long as Charles doesn’t mind walking you up the aisle.”
Charles scowled at the blatant implication, and changed the topic. “I hear that you will be settling your country home at one of your father’s lesser estates about a day’s ride from here, is that right, Charlotte?”
“Yes, my father hopes to hand over the running of his surrounding properties to Aiden, and then prep an heir to run Lincolnshire. It is entailed.”
“Then will you be spending the summers at the Derbyshire estate?”
“Most likely,” retorted Aiden, warming to the subject. “I hope to spend most of the year there, next year. It has much potential and I will need to be there next year to ensure that it turns a proper profit.”
Rolling her eyes at the familiar financial spiel, Charlotte turned to Lindsay and smiled. “So, you won’t be my neighbor after all?” Lindsay asked, surprised at her feelings of disappointment.
“Well, not if you will be living here, with your grandparents, but Derbyshire is located just five miles from Sir Charles’ new estate.” Charlotte stated, slyly glancing at Lindsay from the peripheral vision, as she daintily removed meat from a chicken wing. “May we yet expect to enjoy one another’s company at future picnics?”
“Whatever do you mean?” asked Lindsay, calling her out.
“Oh, fine. Do you and Sir Charles have an understanding? You have been spotted together often since my arrival and you seem a smart match.”
“Oh, that, well, Charles and I have a history together, but there is most certainly no romance involved,” Lindsay whispered, leaning in and blushing to the tips of her ears.
“Pish,” Charlotte laughed with her peridot eyes. “Everyone knows the two of you grew up together on neighboring estates. It looks to me as if childhood acquaintance has turned into something...more. Everyone is whispering over the heated glances the two of you have shared. Admit it, Lindsay, you care for him and always have, despite yourself.”
Lindsay opened her mouth to object but slowly closed it as she realized the truth in Charlotte’s proclamation. Lindsay did care for Charlie, despite the fact she could not trust him. Moreover, when she envisioned home and hearth, progeny and old age, she saw herself with Charles and his children. She almost gasped.
How could her own thoughts turn traitor? How could she overlook such a glaring character defect, as a man who would promise the moon and then disappear without a word, seeking to establish his own future, at the expense of her own? He might have once been her rock, but those days were long gone.
Shaking her head, she rose to leave. Startled from their intense conversation of crops and tenants, Charles and Aiden stood. “Charlotte, gentlemen, please excuse me. I need to check on my sister.” Inclining her head, she strolled off, heading for the path near the back of the clearing.
After a short, stunned silence, Charles looked down at Charlotte, who shrugged her shoulders innocently and bit into a sugared crepe’. Charles then met Aiden’s puzzl
ed gaze and said, “I suppose I must follow her, to insure her safety.”
“I suppose you must,” Charlotte grinned, cheekily. Ignoring her, Charles stalked off, toward the path.
How could she have allowed herself to let Charles under her skin? She wasn’t an emotionally turbulent child. She was a mature, levelheaded, and imminently practical eighteen year old woman. Charles was sullen and domineering. He treated her like a wayward child. And he had proved himself untrustworthy.
His weathered good looks should have no affect upon her, but the juncture between her legs ached just from thinking of him. She couldn’t maintain decorum around this man. He just wouldn’t do! So, why was she again, no, to be honest, why had she always longed for him? It was lowering and humiliating to be in love with a superfluous, irritating, and mysterious traitor.
In spite of herself, when he looked at her, with his whiskey eyes, she felt intoxicated. She felt warm and full, she felt safe and whole, as if she belonged to something bigger than herself. She was a moth, drawn to his flame. Beyond his hard-edged proportions, Charles had a certain mouthwatering, animalistic allure that drew her. It troubled her that she was so susceptible to his charms. She should know better.
“Sometimes I just hate myself!” Lindsay chided, walking faster and squeezing her fists to her sides until her nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms.
“And why would you do that?” came Charles’ rich baritone behind her.
“Uhhh!” she groaned, spinning to glare at him with unrestrained anger and frustration. “Why can I not rid myself of you?”
“And when not two hours hence you were plotting our clandestine meeting?,” he shook his head in mock remonstration. Resorting to the cold shoulder, Lindsay spun back around and resumed her pace.
“Lindsay, wait! Stop and tell me what ails you. Did Charlotte lower your guard and upset you? I can have Aiden reign her in...Lindsay? Enough!”
Shortening her stride, Lindsay took a deep breath and allowed Charles to walk astride. After a few moments of silence, Lindsay spoke. “Tis not that. Charlotte is surprisingly kind, Charles. I honestly hope to be her friend. It’s just, well...she assumed that you and I had an understanding. It seems many people are under that belief, and we haven’t done anything to encourage such talk! I fear we’ll damage our reputations if we are seen in one another’s company. Let us just put some distance between us, shall we?”
Lindsay turned to Charles, a mixture of dread and longing in her dark, blue gaze. Her eyes grew round as they gazed into his intensity, her eyelashes clumping with unshed tears.
Before Charles realized what he was doing, he had leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. He felt her soft gasp, through her slightly parted lips, and sighed as he wrapped her in light embrace. It felt so natural, it felt, he realized, startled, like coming home. He had ached for this soft embrace for four long years. Her familiar scent of lemons and sugar made him want to nuzzle her neck. As if reliving a dream, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her gently to him.
Lindsay shivered as Charles pressed his lips to the wisps of curls that lay against the curve of her neck. His head pounded as he trailed kisses up her ear and across her cheek. At Lindsay’s moan, he plundered her mouth. Pressing her up against a tree; Charles grasped her breast and squeezed it, sending Lindsay into another moan of ecstasy.
They were lost in a passion of caresses, Charles’ hand entangled in her silken locks, his only thought that he wished this moment would never end. He drank from her lips as if her very essence offered the balm his soul so desperately needed. He groaned when he felt her pull away. Charles didn’t realize that they weren’t alone until he noticed her gaze lay behind him on the path. Turning, he stifled an oath. There stood Lindsay’s grandmother, father, and sister, with, as luck might have it, Lady Reynolds.
Chapter Four- Escape
“Wife and servant are the same,
But only differ in the name:
For when that fatal knot is tied,
Which nothing, nothing can divide:
When she the word obey has said,
And man by law supreme has made”
~Lady Mary Chudleigh, 17th Century Wife and Feminist
“What is the meaning of this?!” barked Sir Richard, scowling and marching forward, amid overly dramatized sighs and gasps from Lady Reynolds.
“Father!” squeaked Lindsay, “I can explain, I was distraught and-”
“No,” stated Charles flatly, cutting her off as he slashed his hand down unequivocally. Stepping in front of Lindsay protectively and, Lindsay noted, territorially, he lifted his chin. “I was carried away with excitement, Sir, as your daughter had just agreed to become my wife.” Turning to Lady Beaumont, he bowed respectfully. “I apologize for taking liberties.”
Sir Richard tensed at the explanation and kept his gaze locked with Charles. “Are you saying you would like an appointment to meet with me, Sir Charles?”
“I am.”
“But, this is quite unnecessary,” Lindsay tried to interrupt.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lindsay,” Charles drawled. Not removing his eyes from Sir Richard, Charles belied his casual tone by squeezing her hand tightly in warning. “I would hate for your father to misinterpret my intentions. Furthermore, I refuse to short shrift convention or tradition on this, of all matters.”
Sir Richard visually bristled, then responded. “I quite agree. Now, let us return to the picnic together. Lindsay, you and Charles may walk ahead of Leah and me. Lindsay’s chest felt tight with panic and dismay. Her head began to throb as it spun with a cyclone of hope, guilt, and despair. How could this be happening? Her worst nightmare seemed to have just sprung to life.
Betrayed by her own body, she had wantonly offered herself to the very man she knew could destroy her. How could she possibly survive an unhappy marriage with the only man she had ever loved? It was much safer to wed one for whom she did not feel strong emotions. In that way, no great risk was run. In that way, she would not risk losing it all.
Her lips still thrummed from his kiss, beating to the rhythm of her heart. Both her body and her soul seemed to call out for him and she knew with a sinking sensation that she could not survive a marriage with Charles in which he did not return her regard. She could not bear needing him and being abandoned by him ever again.
“Father,” Lindsay began again, turning to him, “I really see no need-”
“Not one word, Lindsay,” barked her father. “Now let’s have no more talk of this business here. We are approaching the clearing.”
Nonchalantly returning to their blanket, Charles resumed his farming discussion with Aiden. As upset as Lindsay was, she didn’t wish to bruise her budding friendship with Charlotte and thus forced herself to smile and speak on benign topics, such as tonight’s dinner menu and Saturday’s ball. Charlotte, it seems, planned to wear a daring neck line in hopes of riling her mother and fiance’ simultaneously.
Lindsay couldn’t keep herself from laughing at her new friend’s antics.
“It was hideous, I tell you, Lindsay. Although it was a lovely soft, shimmery silver, my mother made me choose a high collared style, with ruffles and buttons! Ruffles on this beautiful satin! I am a thin person, Lindsay, I do not do well with ruffles and frills. So, I took it with me when I visited my cousin last month. I had saved all of my pin money since February and was able to bribe the young seamstress who was working on Caroline’s trousseau to make the sultry adaptations.”
“No frills, no neck line at all, why they will just die!” She whispered in ecstatic anticipation. “I simply explained that I intended to wear the dress after my nuptials and the seamstress seemed placated. This is my way of reminding Aiden and my mother that they may have their way in some regards but I am and will remain my own person.”
“And just how do you plan to remind us?” inquired Aiden, glancing at Charlotte with a touch of asperity.
“Oh, you know, by redecorating Derbyshire, Aiden. I�
��ve told you I’d like free reign in that regard and you have been most accommodating.” Aiden searched Charlotte’s face, distrusting, but soon turned his attention back to Charles and their discussion of stud horses.
Lindsay chuckled, well entertained. “How is it that we have never gotten on before this day, Charlotte? It seems we are well matched.”
“Precisely, before this day, we were too well matched, while unattached, that is. So, what were we to be but one another’s competition? Now that we are practically settled old matrons, we are free to socialize as we see fit. My Mama can’t help but approve. You see,” she nodded at her mother who sat regaling Lindsay’s grandmother with some tale from her youth.
“I do. It just seems so unnecessary. The competition.”
“Yes, well my mother thrives on competition. I am just relieved that now it will come in the more benign form of who has more grandchildren and whether my gowns remain in the first stare of fashion. I don’t deal well in dabbling with other’s personal lives.”
“Yes, I quite agree. I hope your mother will remain focused upon your successes, Charlotte. Shall we gather up and head back? I see gray clouds in the distance.”
“Please, let’s. I would rather not be seen looking like a drowned rat.”
~ ~ ~
After returning from the picnic, all the women retired to their bed chambers to rest. Lindsay could hardly have stayed with the men without attracting undue attention, so she ascended the stairs to her mother’s old bed chamber.
The suite was much unchanged, other than the fact that the bed was neatly made and the furniture properly polished. Lindsay had gathered up her mother’s books and placed them in her own room the day she’d been taken away.
Rubbing her mother’s ring distractedly, Lindsay walked over to the large window and peered out at the clear blue sky. Squinting, she imagined she could see all the way to London from which her mother’s soul had flown.