Charles

by Leenie Brown

  “You love me?”

  He deserved the bitter laugh that accompanied the question. “I do, but I know you have no reason to believe me.”

  She crossed her arms. “You are right. I do not.”

  “How do you know that I am not the same man who made that wager?”

  “I do not.” Her reply was forceful.

  “If I were to ask you to give me a second chance at this moment, I imagine I would be refused.” He had intended to plead a second chance from her, but she was not the sort of lady to just believe idle words. He knew it in his heart. She was different from all the other ladies he had ever known.

  “Indeed, I would. Indeed, I am refusing this,” she flicked her father’s missive.

  Charles stood, crossed the room, and dropped to his knees in front of her. “I love you,” he said each word slowly and distinctly. “I will always love you.”

  How he longed to hold her hand, but he knew it would do him no good to give into that desire.

  “You, Miss Barrett, are perhaps the most compassionate, yet uncompromising, lady I have ever met. You do not only do great things, but you demand them as well. You inspire me to be a better man. You,” his lips curled into a small smile, “with all your scolding and reprimanding, have caused me to find something at which I am good, and which feeds my soul. I like helping others.”

  He drew and released a breath. “With or without you, I will continue on this path of improvement, for though you may never be at my side,” he pressed his lips together as tears gathered in his eyes at the thought, “I will always strive to please you, for I cannot please myself unless I know what I am doing would meet with your satisfaction. And in proving myself good enough for you, I will be good enough for me.”

  He rose. “I will not present any other offer to you from this day forward. I will simply leave you with the option of choosing me. If, someday, I should be so fortunate as to earn your good opinion as well as your heart, you have only to tell me, and I will be yours for time and eternity. I will not charm anything from you, Evelyn. Never from you. I will only ever take what you wish to give me, even if at this moment it is anger and distrust.”

  He bowed to Mrs. Barrett. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  He looked at Evelyn until her eyes met his. “I love you,” he whispered before taking his leave.

  Chapter 18

  Mr. Edwards’s parting words coupled with the look of sorrow in his eyes as he left her held Evelyn in her seat. No matter how much she wished to run up to her room and throw herself on her bed where she could wash away the feeling of betrayal his wager had caused her, she could not. It was impossible for her to just push his words away as those of a reckless fool attempting to seduce a lady.

  “Are you well?”

  Evelyn turned slowly toward her mother. She had nearly forgotten that her mother had been there to witness every detail of this meeting. “He loves me?”

  Her mother nodded. “I believe he does.”

  “You do?” No one ever fooled her mother. Many, including her and her brother, had tried at one time or another, but never with any great or lasting amount of success.

  “I do.” Mrs. Barrett held out her hand to Evelyn, who dutifully placed hers in it. “I have never in my life heard of a wastrel seeking out the approval of a father to court and marry his daughter by telling that father about his follies,” she said as she drew Evelyn to her feet and wrapped Evelyn’s arm around hers.

  Evelyn’s brows drew together. “He did that?”

  Her mother shrugged. “He said he did.” A smile tipped her mouth. “Of course, I will be writing to your father to verify his claim. No scoundrel will have my daughter,” she added as they began climbing the stairs.

  Evelyn squeezed her mother’s arm tightly. She was fortunate to have such caring parents, even if one of them was as fearsome a mother as hers.

  “Now, you should try to rest before you dress for dinner. You look positively haggard, and that is not how you wish to present yourself to society.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “I did not say sleep,” her mother whispered. “I know too well that a lady with emotions that have been aroused as much as yours have been finds sleep impossible. Just lie down. Close your eyes and think about positive things as much as you can.” She sighed. “We have a long evening in front of us, and an unpleasant interview tomorrow with Mr. Marsh. It is best if you attempt to find some way to fortify yourself for these things, or you will find yourself in need of the apothecary.”

  Evelyn hugged her mother. The speech was not so soft and understanding as some mothers might give, but Evelyn knew, for her mother, the words spoken were filled with a great deal of affection. “I will, Mother,” she said before slipping into her room.

  And she did attempt to rest. However, even just lying still and counting the folds on her bed curtain was not something which could truly bring her any amount of peace. So, after half an hour of tossing one way and then another, she rose and took out a paper and wrote:

  Mr. Marsh,

  I wish to thank you for the offer you made to me in the park. It is a great honour for any young lady to receive an offer of marriage from a gentleman as kind and obliging as you are. It was a pleasure to come to know you, and I hope that I might always refer to you as a friend. However, I cannot be your wife. I fear I am not suited to the country as well as some might be. I know that opportunities to be of assistance to those less fortunate abound in every part of our country, but I cannot with good conscience leave my post at Eiddwen House, nor do I wish to abandon Mrs. Verity. It is not enough that I write letters and provide funds. I wish to put my hand to the plow of improving the lives of those who have come to rely on me, and to do so, I must remain in town for at least a portion of the year. It is not right that you should be forced to accompany me on such excursions, no more than it would be right for me to accept your offer and pledge my love when my heart…

  She paused. Her heart. What did it want? She shook her head, unwilling to allow herself to even think her reply and continued her letter with

  …has not been touched in such a fashion.

  She crossed it out. It was a lie. Her heart had been touched – deeply – just not by him. She drew out a fresh sheet of paper.

  Mr. Marsh,

  I wish to thank you for your offer of marriage. While I feel the honour such an offer from a gentleman as kind and obliging as you are, I cannot accept your offer. Please know that I hold you in high regard and would count it an honour to be able to still call you friend.

  E.B.

  She reread it. Yes. That would do. A simple, yet kind refusal. No reasons for incompatibility needed to be listed. She folded and sealed the letter before ringing for her maid to see it delivered. Her mother might not approve of sending a refusal by missive, but then, Evelyn did not particularly care for a gentleman petitioning a father, who was not more than a day’s drive from town, for his daughter’s hand by post.

  She shook her head. Mr. Marsh truly was the complete opposite of Mr. Edwards. She stood and looked around her room – the room in which she had been wallowing in self-pity for two days now. She had been wallowing! She did not wallow. She shook herself and pulled herself upright. Two days was enough.

  “Did you need something, miss?” her maid asked as she entered.

  “Yes, Sally, I need several things. First, this missive needs to be delivered. Second, the carriage is needed. Third, I will need to change into a fresh day dress and have my hair made presentable, and lastly, my mother needs to be notified that I will not be attending tonight’s soiree.”

  “Straight away, miss.” Sally took the note and hurried to do as she was bid while Evelyn crossed to the wardrobe to select a dress.

  “What do you mean we will not be attending the soiree tonight?” her mother demanded.

  “There are things which require my attention,” Evelyn replied.

  “What things?”

  There was a good reaso
n for her mother to be suspicious. Some of the things Evelyn was contemplating were not things of which her mother would approve. However, they would be effective in settling her heart and determining her future.

  “I need to call on Constance, and I have not been to Mrs. Verity’s in three days.”

  “It is late,” her mother protested.

  Evelyn wiggled the fabric of her skirt into place. “I agree. I should have attended to these things well before now instead of spending my time wallowing in self-pity.”

  She lifted her chin and gave her mother a determined look. “Besides it might be better if we were not in attendance this evening since I have just sent my refusal to Mr. Marsh.”

  “By letter!”

  “Yes. I hate to make him wait one more day, and I should not like to create a scene by telling him when he asks me for a dance. That simply would not do, now would it?”

  “Evelyn Marie Barrett, have you lost your mind? There will be talk, and it will not be good.”

  Evelyn shook her head and smiled. “There is already talk, Mother. How else would I know about that wager if people were not already talking about me? And no, Mother, I have not lost my mind, but I may have lost my heart.” She sighed. “And I must know if I have lost it in vain or if there is any hope that I can find happiness with Mr. Edwards. I just must, Mother.”

  “You love him?”

  Evelyn nodded. “I do.”

  “Do you wish for me to go with you?”

  Evelyn crossed the room and hugged her mother. “No, Mama, it is best if you do not.”

  “Evelyn, what are you planning?”

  Evelyn laughed. “Whatever is necessary.”

  Her mother sighed. “Will it be in the papers?”

  Evelyn looked up from the fastening she was doing to her dress. “I would have a cup of tea before checking.”

  “Here,” her mother said, “let me help you. I might as well see that you look your best when you tarnish the family name.”

  An hour later, Evelyn, Constance, and Henry sat in the Barrett’s carriage. Evelyn had only planned to take Constance with her, but since Henry had been at the Linton’s house, she thought it would be rude to not invite him as well.

  “You want me to do what?” Henry asked.

  “Either bring me the betting book so that I might read the wager or escort me into your club.” She looked from one astonished face across from her to another. “I can go in by myself.” She moved toward the door, but Henry stopped her.

  “Very well, I will see what can be done.”

  “I will come in to look at it if it is not brought out to me,” she called after him.

  “Evelyn,” Constance scolded, “he may not be able to bring that book out of the club.”

  Evelyn leaned forward and took her friend’s hands. “I must know what the bet said. I simply must.”

  “But Henry told you that he forfeited.”

  Evelyn smiled. “That was very noble of him, was it not?”

  “Yes, but why must you see the bet?”

  Evelyn shrugged. “I do not know, but I must.”

  Henry hopped into the carriage, shoving a piece of paper into her hands. “Either you or Edwards owe me five pounds.”

  “You ripped out the page?” Evelyn said in surprise.

  “I was not allowed to bring the book out, and I was not about to allow you to enter the club. So, I tore out the page and gave the man five pounds for it. Hopefully, I will be allowed to enter again in the future.”

  “That was very sweet of you,” Evelyn said as she scanned the page. “Did you read it?” she asked.

  “The wager?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “No, what he wrote below it.”

  Henry shrugged. “I assume he wrote that he forfeited.”

  “What did he write?” Constance asked eagerly, leaning forward to see the page Evelyn held.

  “That he forfeited,” Evelyn replied.

  “Which is what I said,” Henry muttered.

  “But that is not all.” Evelyn stuck her head out to give instructions to the driver but then pulled it right back in. “Where does Mr. Edwards live?”

  “I thought we were going to call on Miss Bellamy,” Constance said.

  “There is no need.” Evelyn turned to Henry to ask him again where Mr. Edwards lived, but he had already stuck his head out and was giving instructions.

  “Now,” Henry said, settling back on the bench, “do tell. Why we are changing our plans?”

  “He went to see my father.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You do?” Both Constance and Evelyn asked.

  “He told me before he left,” Henry explained, “but I was not to tell anyone in case he was not successful on his first attempt.”

  “He was successful,” Evelyn said.

  “That I also know.”

  “Do you know he loves me?” Evelyn asked.

  Henry nodded.

  “When did he tell you?”

  “Before he went to visit your father.”

  “Before?” Oh, that was very good, for it proved he had not just said he loved her to soothe the pain of his betrayal with that bet — if it had been a betrayal at all. She tipped her head to the side. “He truly did not know about this wager until you told him?”

  “He was sufficiently surprised by the news that yes, I would say he did not recall the bet at all.”

  That was also good. If Mr. Edwards had not remembered the wager, then he had not said all those wonderful things at Eiddwen House just to charm her into kissing him.

  “What did he write?” Henry asked.

  Evelyn smoothed the paper on her lap. “C. Edwards declares himself unsuccessful and terminates this wager with the payment of twenty pounds. He is unable to keep the terms for he has no desire to kiss Miss Bellamy. In fact, he has no desire to kiss anyone save Miss Barrett but only if she will have him as her husband.”

  Henry snatched the paper from her and read it for himself. “Huh. I wonder how many have read this?”

  Evelyn leaned back against the seat. “I do not care,” she said with a sigh. He loved her. He had loved her for some time and every word he had spoken to her was true. She would find him at his house and tell him that she loved him, too. And all would be well.

  ~*~*~

  “What do you mean he is not here?” she asked the butler.

  “Just that the master is not at home.”

  “That simply cannot be.” He was supposed to be home. She was supposed to find him here and make everything right between them.

  “I am afraid it is, miss.”

  “Do you know where he might be? It is rather important that I find him, so that I might marry him, you see.”

  Evelyn had not thought eyes could open as far as the butler’s did.

  “There was a misunderstanding of sorts,” she continued.

  “Is there a problem?” Henry asked, coming up behind Evelyn.

  The butler’s wide eyes turned to him. “Mr. Crawford,” he said with a bow. “This young lady claims she needs to see the master, so she can marry him, but he is unfortunately unavailable.”

  “He is not home,” Evelyn added.

  “Do you know where he might be?” Henry asked.

  The butler’s eyes shifted to Evelyn and back to Henry.

  Henry nodded. “Yes, Mr. Oakes, I do believe she will be your new mistress if we can find Edwards.”

  Mr. Oakes turned back to Evelyn. “I do apologize, Miss Barrett. I must say I am taken unaware by such news. I will inquire of Finley to see if he knows where you might find the master.”

  “I have never seen Oakes flustered,” Henry said with a chuckle.

  The butler had hurried away without closing the door. In fact, he had fairly raced up the stairway as they watched. A curious maid poked her head out of a door, looking down the hall toward them at the door.

  “Miss Barrett,” Finley said, stepping out onto the step. “Mr. Oakes tells me that you w
ish to find Mr. Edwards, so that you might marry him?”

  “Oh, it is good to see you again, Finley,” Evelyn said. “I trust your sister is well?”

  “She is, indeed.”

  “You know each other?” Henry asked.

  “Yes, Miss Barrett helped my sister find a position.”

  “I see,” Henry muttered. “And where might we find Edwards?”

  “I can show you, but I must admit I do not know the address.”

  “Please,” Evelyn waved toward the carriage. “My driver will not mind having you sit beside him and direct him.”

  It was some time and several turns later before the carriage once again stopped. This time they were in front of a warehouse.

  Evelyn stepped out of the carriage and took in her surroundings. “I do not believe I have been to this part of town before.” She looked at Finley. “Your arm.”

  He smiled and offered her his arm.

  “You must see me to him. You cannot just leave me on the street.”

  “Of course, ma’am,” he replied. “He’ll be right pleased to see you.”

  Evelyn took a deep breath. Her heart was beginning to race. “I do hope you are correct. This is all rather unconventional.”

  Finley leaned near as they approached a door. “Mr. Edwards is not conventional, ma’am.”

  Evelyn laughed. “I cannot disagree,” she said as she stepped through the door.

  The smell of fresh bread and hot soup greeted her before the din of voices. Five tables set up at one end of the warehouse were filled with men, women, and children eating.

  “What is this?” she asked Finley.

  “A place for those who need it to get a warm meal on occasion,” he replied. Then he nodded to his right.

  There, with his jacket removed and his sleeves rolled up, was Mr. Edwards, placing bowls of soup in front of a young girl and a man Evelyn assumed was the child’s father.

  “Thank you, Finley,” she said, releasing his arm but not taking her eyes off of the gentleman dressed in fine fabric who was serving food. Slowly, she moved across to where he was. While she had wished to run to him earlier, now she only wanted to watch as he stopped to talk to another gentleman and tapped the brim of a boy’s cap.