The Beauty of You

by Jennifer Wenn

  “Of course we could. I say, bring the girl here, and we will make her the most popular girl in London.”

  “Deal.”

  Penelope gave Edward another sweet smile, and this time he caught Rake’s warning glares, but too late.

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Penny, you are not going to write to the girl and tell her to come here.”

  Edward tried to humble her by glaring darkly, but she just nodded daintily. “Oh, I promise I won’t write and ask her to come.”

  Relieved, Edward exhaled. “Great.”

  “No need to,” Penelope continued, putting the last nails in his coffin. “I have already sent her an invitation. She should be arriving here by the end of March, just in time for the Season. She will be so happy when she hears you all have decided to transform her into one of the ton’s most sought-after women.”

  “Rake!” Edward whined, but his younger brother just shrugged.

  “You have only yourself to blame for this, Ward. You were the one who didn’t stop when Penny showed us her true colors. And now it is you who will transform this blandly homely girl into a perfect beauty.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “You have to help me.”

  “No, we don’t.” Rake grinned, pleased with himself. “We are not the ones who bought her bluff.”

  “Mother!”

  The duchess ignored her son’s desperation and instead smiled encouragingly toward Charmaine. “It’s wonderful to hear the four of you had such a lovely time in Scotland, but as we have missed you all so much during the past month, I must say I’m glad you’re back. Life is not perfect unless our family is complete.”

  “It’s nice to be back,” Charmaine admitted politely, and was granted a grateful look from the duchess.

  “For a while, at least—it’s February, after all, only two more months until the Season kicks off again. Are you ready to conquer the ton as Lady Chilton?”

  “I don’t think I ever will get used to that name,” Charmaine admitted. “Every time someone calls me Lady Chilton I look over my shoulder to see whom they are addressing.”

  The duchess gave an amused snort. “Oh, I know exactly what you’re talking about. When I was first married to Hannibal, I didn’t answer when the servants called me Your Grace. I was Anna Howard, no more and no less. It took me quite some time to realize they meant me.”

  The duke laughed heartily, his wonderful, booming laughter that was as contagious as the Spanish Fever. “I thought you were never going to get used to being called Your Grace. Do you remember how upset the servants were? They refused to call you anything else, and you never answered them and kept ignoring them when they tried to catch your attention.”

  “I do. Poor Butler still hasn’t forgiven me the slight.”

  “Not hard to understand why. You effectively removed all his dignity in front of the other servants when you didn’t listen to him when he tried to talk to you.”

  With a dramatic snort, the duchess replied, “I still think he could have called me by my name instead, at least until I got used to the new married me. But no, the man is just too stubborn.”

  “Just like you.”

  The duchess gasped, outraged, glaring at her husband. “I’m not stubborn at all.”

  “Of course you’re not. Just as you don’t talk very much, either.”

  The other men in the room snickered, and the duchess pursed her lips at her husband, who blanched and moved back away from her.

  As the duchess lectured her husband about rude comments, Sin went over to Charmaine where she sat and beckoned her with a nod of his head to come with him. Relieved to escape the wrath of the duchess, she followed him out of the room.

  “How are you?” he asked as soon as they were outside the door, alone. “You seem tired.”

  “I am,” she admitted. “I still haven’t recovered from our trip back here, or the constant lack of sleep.”

  “I’m sorry.” He gave her a wicked smile that told her he was anything but sorry.

  She couldn’t blame him. She too enjoyed their nights of making sweet love too much to care about sleep, or the lack of it.

  “No, you’re not.” She giggled, putting her arms around his waist and her cheek against his chest.

  As she felt him lift his arms up, embracing her, she couldn’t help being thankful for having him as her husband. They had been married for over three months now, and every day it got better and better.

  Sin was a husband made in heaven.

  His thoughtfulness and kind heart had done wonders for her jumpy nerves, and finally she had begun to stop looking over her shoulder all the time, instead enjoying her newly won freedom.

  The only thing that saddened her was how he constantly avoided telling her of his feelings for her. She knew, without doubt, that she loved him with all her heart, that he was everything she had ever wanted or could have wished for.

  He made her feel safe and complete. He made her feel free and needed. It was what she had dreamt about in her most secret dreams, the ones she had cried herself through, and now she had it.

  If he only would love her back.

  It was the only negative part of their marriage, but she had no one but herself to blame, as she knew too well what his problem was. He would never open up his heart to her until she told him the truth. Even though he never mentioned it, she knew he was still more than desperate to know why she had tripped him, why she had forced them to marry.

  Why.

  Her problem was that she didn’t know how to tell him the truth. How could she ever admit to him what an awful person she was? What if he loathed her for making her stepfather fall in love with her?

  She knew it sounded worse than it was. Lord Nester was, after all, not her real father, although she had grown up under the impression that he was. But the mere thought of losing Sin because of it had her sick with angst, and it became harder and harder for her to open up to him.

  “I’ve missed you today,” Sin mumbled into her hair.

  “I’ve missed you too,” she admitted and felt him hug her a bit tighter, obviously liking her answer. “But isn’t there just too much for you to do with managing the estate?”

  “Yes, there is. As I am the heir to the dukedom, my grandfather wants me to know as much as I can about running everything. Father, even though he is next in line, has never been interested at all, and therefore Grandfather wants me to know what it takes to keep everything alive and in order.”

  “Why can’t your father step in to ease your burden?”

  He shrugged lightly. “It’s not such a big burden to me, and besides, I have the interest and my father doesn’t. So I spend my time learning everything I can from Grandfather while he’s still alive, and then I can continue with taking care of the estate when Father becomes the duke.”

  “Doesn’t your father mind that you get all the knowledge and he gets none?”

  Sin looked at her with a frown marring his forehead. It was clear he didn’t like her assumption.

  “No, he doesn’t. Why should he? I’m taking care of what he doesn’t want to be bothered with, and as I’m next in line after him to get the title, it is nothing but in his best interest to let me take over.”

  “It’s quite uncommon, you know, someone being that generous.”

  “No, it’s not,” he said, disgruntled.

  She gave him a tender smile and held her palm against his smooth cheek. “Yes, Sin, it is. Most men wouldn’t let anyone else handle what they consider theirs, and that goes especially for a family estate and family wealth. Your family is different in so many ways, and this is just one of them.”

  He looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable. “And is this a good thing?”

  “It is.”

  “Well, consider me different, then.”

  She laughed over his tender teasing, and he smiled back at her with affection. At moments like this she could almost be
lieve he cherished her deeply, and maybe even loved her.

  But she knew better than to indulge herself in impossible fantasies. For now it was enough for her to know they got along as well as they did.

  Penelope would probably have thought her beyond stupid if she had known. Her younger sister had never let reality rule her world of dreams. But life had treated them differently so far, and where Penelope could escape into her perfect fantasy world, Charmaine had to be constantly on guard with her armor in place.

  The Darling family was indeed different, and she knew she had already changed a lot since becoming one of them. Letting go of her ice queen façade had been a huge step in the right direction, and she had noticed in more ways than one how much the family appreciated her effort.

  The greatest change, though, was her relationship with Sin. To let someone else become as close to her as he now was had been unthinkable before. But she couldn’t stand his anger and resentment when she had acted as the selfish Incomparable Queen, so she had let that façade go, too. He had seemed relieved when he noticed she wasn’t the spoiled harpy he had thought her in the beginning of their marriage, and it made her want to give even more effort to making their marriage a happy one.

  If only she could make herself get rid of the last splinter parting them. The one with the ugly truth stuck to it. But she had gotten too used to his warm eyes and tender smiles to dare losing them.

  “Not sharing the management of the Berkeley holdings with my relatives makes it easier for me to be prepared to carry the responsibility by myself in the future,” Sin was continuing solemnly. “I will be the one who has to make sure my family fares well and that the people of our estate have good lives. It’s a huge responsibility, and it is mine, whether I want it or not.”

  He seemed almost fatigued, and her heart went out to him. It couldn’t be easy to be the one person in this free-spirited family who had a future that lay in a direction he couldn’t change.

  “So do you?” she asked quietly, and he looked at her inquiringly.

  “Do I what?”

  “Do you want it?”

  He raised his eyebrows with surprise. “I don’t know. To be honest, I’ve never considered what my life would have been like without the responsibilities of the Berkeley estate.”

  Watching him stare into the air, his thoughts seemingly miles away as he pondered his answer, she couldn’t help being amazed that he had never considered leading the same normal, easygoing life his relatives did, a life without duties. Lord Newbury was, after all, the real heir and the one who should be taking care of everything, not his son.

  “I don’t mind being the heir,” he finally let out in a slow, almost uncertain manner. “But I would like to have other options, too. Some other roads to choose from, leaving it to me to decide which not to take. In that way my life would have been my choice and not filled with things I’m supposed to do just because I was born to it.”

  “But you do have options,” she prompted. “You decide how much time and effort you spend as the person responsible for all these people. If you chose to not care, you could easily live another life, having time for anything else your heart desires. But that’s not you, is it?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It’s not.”

  “So in reality are you quite satisfied with the life you lead, and wouldn’t have it arranged any differently?”

  “I guess so, my intense little wife. Besides, I have had quite a large change in my life lately—you. My life will never be the same.”

  She blushed, feeling oddly satisfied with his conclusion, and he gave her another of those unreadable smiles that made her feel so cherished.

  “Lady Chilton, you have a visitor awaiting you in the salon.”

  Charmaine looked at Ivanoff, the Chester Park butler, who had joined them in his unobtrusive way. “A visitor? Who is it?”

  “I don’t know, my lady. He didn’t introduce himself, only stressed his urgency to see you, although I think I recognize him as one of the Harveyfield footmen.”

  A dark, awful feeling spread throughout her stomach and without thinking she moved backwards, wanting nothing but to escape the truth waiting for her in the salon. It had to be about her mother. Why else would someone from Harveyfield dare to visit Chester Park, probably against his master’s profound wishes?

  She felt Sin’s hand on the small of her back and she closed her eyes, grateful for his presence.

  “Do you want to go alone?”

  “No.”

  He took a step closer, enveloping her cold, lifeless hand in his large, warm one. The comfort he offered with the simple gesture overwhelmed her, and tears filled her eyes.

  “Charmaine?”

  Penelope had stepped out of the salon, Rake behind her, and her small voice cut through Charmaine’s emotional numbness. She forced an easy smile but must have failed miserably, as her sister started to weep.

  “It might not be about Mother…”

  “Of course it is,” Penelope interrupted hoarsely. “What else could it be? No one would bother coming here if she wasn’t dead.”

  “Penny…”

  “Stop lying to me!” Penelope’s heart-wrenching sobs increased alarmingly. She clearly didn’t believe a word of what her sister said, and who was Charmaine to blame her? She herself didn’t believe one word she had just spoken.

  Rake put his arms around his wife’s small shaking body, silently offering her his chest to cry against.

  “My lady?”

  Ivanoff waited for them further down the hall, and Charmaine nodded solemnly to him, knowing she and her sister had to face the waiting man, the sooner the better. Ten minutes later, as the man left Chester Park, Charmaine stared numbly out through the window while Penelope screamed out her grief in her husband’s arms. For every devastated sob her sister let out, Charmaine felt the lump in her throat grow larger and larger, until she thought she was losing her ability to breathe.

  “I’m so sorry,” Sin whispered in her ear as he put his arms around her statuesque body, offering her comfort in her hour of need.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, not wanting to believe what she just had been told.

  Her mother—the lovely, kind woman who had spent most of her life tormented by pain—had lost her will to fight the sickness which had forced her to spend the last months bedridden. As quietly as she had lived, she had taken her last breath.

  Elspeth de Vere, the Countess of Nester, was dead.

  Chapter Twelve

  Looking down on the only grave not covered with snow in the silent graveyard, Charmaine tried to grasp the horrible truth—somewhere under the packed dirt lay her mother’s worn body.

  Nothing more than a small piece of tarnished wood with the name Nester hastily carved onto it told who rested here. The little plank, thrown down by an uncaring hand, showed more than anything how little her stepfather had respected or cherished the woman who had been his wife for almost twenty years.

  “He didn’t…place her in the family tomb,” Penelope whispered, her voice breaking. “He had them dig her grave in the darkest, most secluded part of the graveyard, the one the caretaker keeps forgetting to care for.”

  Charmaine couldn’t answer her sister. Anger flooded her mind and soul, and she was too overwhelmed to get even one little word out.

  That despicable man.

  If the kindhearted servant had not taken it upon himself to inform Lady Nester’s daughters about her demise, they would probably still be thinking she was alive. Lord Nester had not only chosen to not inform them, he had also, as quickly as possible, put his wife in the ground in such a secluded spot they would never have found it.

  Thank God for the snow, which made it impossible for the caretakers—or their stepfather—to hide where they had buried her. It was the small rectangle of dirt under the hanging branches of an old tree that had shown them their mother’s last home on earth.

  Alone under an ancient willow.

&n
bsp; Charmaine felt the lump grow larger again until it almost choked her. She fisted her hands hard inside the muff as her heart cried for her mother and the love lost forever with her.

  “We have to put a gravestone here,” Penelope whispered, and her husband put his arm around her waist so she could lean her cheek against his shoulder, wetting the soft fabric of his coat with her tears.

  “Of course we will,” Rake said softly as he pecked a brief kiss onto her forehead. “Just tell me what you want, and I will make sure it will be done.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rake gave his wife another peck before looking up at Charmaine, and the compassion in his eyes almost did her in, but she hardened herself and forced the tears away.

  “We should go. It’s getting cold.”

  With one last lingering look at the lonely grave, the threesome walked back toward the church, where their carriage waited.

  “I wish this were Uncle Charles’s church,” Penelope said, her voice still shivering with anger. “Instead, we have to deal with that snickering, sniveling, idiotic clergyman who is too much under Father’s thumb to listen to us.”

  Charmaine looked up at the cold, dark stone church and couldn’t have agreed more. “It’s too bad the Nester family always has belonged to this church instead of the Chester Park one, which is so much closer to Harveyfield.”

  “Indeed it is.” Rake offered his hand to help her up into the carriage. “But as our family always has been the patrons of the Chester Park church, I guess the Nesters felt they wanted to join a different one.”

  She accepted his hand, climbing gracefully into the carriage to sit next to Penelope, who stared unseeingly out through the window. Charmaine settled herself, then looked in surprise at her brother-in-law as he closed the door from the outside.

  “Aren’t you going home with us?”

  He shook his head. “No. I have some errands to run that can’t wait. I’ll have someone drive me home later.”

  He looked at his wife sitting lost in her thoughts. “I won’t be too long, my love.”