‘We do?’
Without elaborating, she nodded and looked up. ‘I notice the sky is rather grey. There is a strong possibility a storm is on the way.’
‘So it would seem.’
People walked between them, too busy with their own business to pay attention to their conversation.
‘May I interest you in a ride to your destination to save you the inconvenience?’ She was speaking in a pleasant enough manner, but threats could be hidden in sweet voices.
He eyed her walking stick again and his muscles tightened, preparing for the unexpected. ‘And if I decline your kind invitation?’
‘Then you risk getting caught in a downpour,’ she replied as if that would be an obvious conclusion. ‘My driver is quite adept at handling Town roads and I assure you my carriage is quite comfortable.’
Not one to shy away from intrigue, Andrew stepped closer. When he was about two feet from her, she glanced at her footman and lowered her head. He opened the carriage door.
The curtains inside were closed, so it was nearly impossible to see into the darkened interior. He sensed movement as one of the curtains was pushed aside. Through the now-dim light he spied Charlotte, looking a bit uncertain.
Who was Mrs Sommersby and how did she know that he knew Charlotte? He glanced down at Charlotte’s gloved hands and released a breath when he saw they were not bound.
‘What is this about?’ he demanded of Mrs Sommersby in a low voice.
If anyone was planning on harming Charlotte, they would have to get through him.
‘Now, my lord,’ the woman said in a sweet tone, ‘the storm seems to be approaching and I have some shopping to do. Won’t you take my carriage?’
It appeared she was giving him a choice. He didn’t know what she would do if he declined. Eyeing Charlotte, he rubbed the handle of his walking stick. If he didn’t get into the carriage, he would be cursing himself for it tonight. He gave a nod to the footman, indicating the man should lower the step.
‘That’s better,’ the mysterious woman said. ‘I believe you will have an extraordinary ride. Good day, Lord Andrew.’
He tipped his hat to her, but his attention was now firmly fixed on Charlotte.
Placing his boot on the bottom step to the carriage, he leaned inside. Charlotte’s attention was fixed on the ring she wore around her neck. Once he was settled across from her, the footman closed the door with a click. The carriage smelled faintly of roses, and the light streaming in from the small gap in the curtain gave a little illumination with which to see each other. It felt intimate. In order to think of a way to get Charlotte out, he needed to change that.
‘Have they harmed you?’ he asked, scanning her form for any indication of restraint or injury.
‘Who?’
‘Mrs Sommersby and anyone else she is working with who coaxed you inside this carriage.’
She finally looked up at him and wrinkled her brow. ‘Of course not, she is my aunt. Coming here today was my idea.’
‘Your idea?’
‘Yes.’
His suspicions were stirred. ‘Am I being kidnapped?’
Her head snapped back. ‘Of course not, you are free to leave this carriage at any time.’
‘And where are you taking me?’
‘Wherever you wish. Shall we drive you home? Yes, let’s drive you home, straight away. I will have the driver go directly to your residence. It’s Albany on Piccadilly, is it not? Unless you were going somewhere else. Then we could take you there. The distance is of no concern. We could even take you outside London, but you wouldn’t have been going outside London if you were walking, would you? Even though you are a man that enjoys physical exertion, I think even you would find a walk that long—’
He laid his hand over hers. When she wouldn’t look at him as he entered the carriage, he assumed it was from fright. Now, he could tell it was from nerves.
‘Charlotte, I can have the driver take me home, which should be a short ride. Or I can tell him to drive around Hyde Park until I give him further direction. Which would you prefer?’
She licked her lips and finally looked at him. ‘The park.’
As he held her gaze, he rapped on the ceiling with his walking stick and gave the driver instructions.
With the removal of a possible threat, his body began to relax and he leaned back on the plush bench. She hadn’t been very pleased with him the last time he saw her. She was probably looking for an explanation as to why he had disappeared on her. What lie could he possibly use that wouldn’t hurt her? ‘What is it you want, Charlotte?’
‘We need to talk.’
‘I commend you for your ingenuity. You could have sent me a note. You know where I live.’ It was odd how just being around her made him want to smile. He should have insisted that the driver take him home. No good would come of spending any time with her.
‘I thought this would be more efficient.’
‘Efficient? Now I am truly intrigued. What shall we discuss that demands efficiency?’
‘I’m carrying your child.’
The carriage could have crashed into Apsley House as it turned into the park and Andrew wouldn’t have noticed.
‘Pardon?’
She cleared her throat and said it again.
Being able to analyse things logically when faced with difficult situations was what he was trained to do. So even though his heart was pounding and every instinct was telling him to jump out of the carriage and run, he said the first thing that came into his mind. ‘You told me you could not conceive.’ It was an accusation and he was not going to soften the statement.
She licked her lips and let out a breath. ‘I thought I couldn’t. I hadn’t in all the time I was married.’
‘You told me I could finish inside you. You said there would be no child.’ His voice was getting stronger and louder.
‘If I ever thought there was a chance I could have one, I wouldn’t have said it.’
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Rubbing his eyelids with his fingers was a bit better than looking at her. However, it didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the fact that his child was inside her. ‘You’re certain?’
‘If you are asking if this child is yours—’
‘I’m asking if you are certain you are with child.’ He hadn’t missed the indignant tone of her voice.
She dropped her face in her hands so her voice was muffled. ‘I have always bled every thirty days and I haven’t yet and fifty days have passed.’
‘That means...’
She raised her head and looked at him in exasperation. ‘That means I am pregnant.’ It was hard to tell in the dim light, but knowing Charlotte she was probably blushing.
Damn! Damn! Damn! He couldn’t be a father. He didn’t lead the life of a man who should be a father. Every day he placed his life in danger. Every day he woke up prepared to die to protect his sovereign. He wasn’t like Gabriel. He spent his days in the field and he didn’t need an heir.
The confines of the carriage were closing in on him and the scent of roses was cloying, making it hard to breathe.
She had said she was not going to trap him into marriage that morning over breakfast. He should never had trusted her. He should have left the room the moment she walked in. Why hadn’t he left the room?
Picking up his walking stick from where it rested next to him, Andrew rapped the ceiling, startling Charlotte. He ordered the driver to pull over. When the carriage rolled to a stop, he opened the door and jumped down into the dirt of the deserted bridle path.
‘That’s it? You’re leaving?’
There was a tremble to her voice, but he pushed any sympathy he felt for her aside.
He needed air. ‘I’m going for a walk.’ Turning to the driver, Andrew ordered him to remain where he was and
to wait for his return. Then he stalked across the grass towards the Serpentine. Dark clouds covered the sun and the air smelled of a coming storm. This wasn’t his plan. A wife and child weren’t part of his plan. He wanted his original plan back.
* * *
Charlotte reached over and closed the carriage door. Pushing aside the curtain, she watched Andrew march across the grass towards a thick clump of trees. Storm clouds were rolling in, making the tree branches sway and appear dark and ominous—like creatures that were going to swallow him up and never spit him out.
Could she do this without him? Could she have this child—raise this child—without a husband to provide for them?
Her body grew cold and she fought the tremors that were threatening to overtake her. Since Jonathan’s death, she had economised in different ways to ensure she was not dependent on others. Her steward was knowledgeable in the latest farming techniques and she had made some prudent investments. The life she was leading was not as luxurious as Lizzy’s, but it was respectable. Would it remain that way with an extra mouth to feed? Would her neighbours shun her for what she had done? And what of the child? What kind of life would a bastard have when its father refused to claim it? She placed her hand on her stomach and, for the first time, had a fierce urge to protect the child inside her.
Tears rimmed her eyes, blurring the image of Jonathan’s ring that she held once more in her hand. To steady her nerves, she took deep breaths through her mouth.
Where had Andrew gone? It was apparent he blamed her. How could he not? It was all her fault. He might feel bound by honour to offer for her hand, but it wouldn’t be what he truly wanted. Perhaps he was already attached to someone here in London. Perhaps he had been waiting for Skeffington to die to pursue her sister.
She banged her head softly against the cushion behind her and closed her eyes. The plunking of soft raindrops on the roof filled the carriage, giving her something to focus on.
Just listen to the raindrops. Don’t think of anything but the raindrops.
But thoughts of raising a child alone pushed their way in.
Her gaze wandered to Andrew’s expensive walking stick with the silver horsehead handle that he had carelessly tossed on the bench before he walked out. Was he this careless with most of his possessions? She barely knew him. How could she marry him?
Once more, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. I can do this. I can raise this child by myself. All will be well in the end.
A boom of thunder shook the carriage and raindrops now hammered on the roof. She moved the curtain aside. Sheets of rain obstructed her view. If Andrew was walking back to the carriage, she wouldn’t be able to tell.
Suddenly the door opened halfway and Aunt Clara’s driver peered inside.
‘Forgive me, my lady. Would you still like to wait? There are lightning strikes in the distance and they are getting closer. There are too many trees where we are to make it safe to remain here.’
She looked past him for any sign of Andrew, but couldn’t see much beyond a few feet. ‘Do you see him?’ she practically yelled over the sound of the rain.
The poor man was soaked and, as he turned to have a look, raindrops splattered off the brim of his hat. ‘It’s hard to see with all this rain coming down,’ he yelled back.
A bolt of bright white lightning illuminated sky and carriage, and the accompanying crack of thunder shook her body.
‘We should move, my lady. The trees—’
‘How far are we from a clearing? Will he be able to see us if we move?’
‘This entire stretch of the bridle path has trees. We need to turn around and go back the way we came.’ He paused as if considering if he should say something as rain pelted his face. ‘If I may, he might not be coming back. He seemed most upset when he left.’
How long would she wait for him? How long would she stay in this carriage under the trees and wait? An hour? Two? Until tomorrow?
At what point do you realise you are utterly and completely alone?
‘Damn it, man! Can you not see this is no place for a carriage in a storm?’ Andrew’s deep voice boomed over the rain as he threw open the door and climbed inside. One would think he had almost drowned in a lake. He took off his hat, which had done little to keep his head dry, and tossed it on the bench next to him. Water droplets dripped from the ends of his hair, down his temples. ‘Go to Piccadilly,’ he instructed the driver. ‘Just before Burlington Arcade is a drive leading to Albany. Do you know where that is?’
‘Aye, my lord.’
‘Go there.’
The driver nodded with a relieved expression and quickly shut the door.
Rain continued to pound on the roof and the windows. As the carriage suddenly lurched forward, it made Charlotte gasp. He looked intense. Focused. Assessing.
She wanted to ask him if he wanted to marry her. She wanted to ask him how much he hated her. But instead, she sat there silently looking back at him for what felt like ages.
Droplets of water clung to his lashes, and she could no longer resist the urge to reach across the carriage to gently brush them away.
He grabbed her wrist. ‘Don’t.’
It was one word, but it said so much.
‘I’m so sorry.’ She didn’t know what else to say. There wasn’t anything else left to say. Her heart took over and tears filled her eyes.
He let go of her wrist.
‘I’m sorry,’ she continued. ‘I’m sorry that I have disrupted your life and wasn’t able to let you leave and never think of me again. I’m sorry I had to tell you about the baby. I’m sorry there is a baby. I never thought...’
‘Charlotte—’
‘I shouldn’t have told you.’ If she could have jumped out of the carriage and run away, she would have. ‘I’ll go back home and you can forget this happened...all of it.’
‘This is not something I can forget.’
She looked up from her clasped hands and met his unreadable gaze. ‘You must hate me,’ she said softly.
He shook his head, sending water drops on to her open pelisse. ‘I don’t hate you.’ His voice had softened for the first time since he entered the carriage.
‘I hate me. I hate what I have done to us. I swear I never thought that I would be able to have a child and when you...when you offered...’ Not knowing how to finish that sentence, she licked her lips. She still remembered what it felt like to have him inside her. She still remembered not wanting him to pull away from her.
He let out a sigh. ‘I realise that it’s logical for you to have believed you could not bear a child. I will not lie, Charlotte. There is a part of me that wants to hate you and wants to blame you for this. But I can’t. I don’t. We share the blame for this. One is no more at fault than the other.’
A small sob slipped out, and she covered her mouth. ‘I am not usually this emotional. I do not cry easily. I don’t know why I am now.’
‘When my brother’s wife was carrying their second child, she cried quite a bit. Perhaps it’s the child.’
‘Perhaps,’ she replied, wiping her eyes.
The carriage rocked to a halt. Rain continued to cascade down. Andrew rapped on the roof and told the driver to go inside and wait for him there, away from the rain.
‘My life is here, Charlotte, in London. Your life is in Cheshire. I live in a building where women are not even allowed to enter. I’m frequently out at all hours dealing with one crisis or another, or gone for days. I have lived my life as a bachelor for so long, I have no notion how to be a husband or a father and have no desire to be either. That was why I left Toby’s house. That was why I knew seeing you again would do neither of us any good. There was no future for us.’
He wasn’t going to ask her. Ice ran through her veins.
You can do this alone. You can do this alone.
Andrew looked out
the window at the deserted cobblestone courtyard and then back to Charlotte. ‘You see. I don’t even have a notion how to propose.’
She knotted her hands together to keep them from trembling at the idea of having this child without him and the scandal she had brought to her sisters. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m trying to say that if you will have me, I’d like to give that child my name.’
Charlotte’s entire body felt like an unravelled ball of yarn. ‘Are you asking me to marry you?’
‘Yes, I would have thought that was fairly clear.’
A soft laugh broke from her lips. It might have been from his comment, or it might have been from the relief she felt at not having to raise this child alone.
‘We will have much to settle between us in the coming days. That is, if you accept.’
While marrying her was the honourable thing to do, she knew it was still a sacrifice ‘You’re certain this is what you want? Perhaps there is someone else you had set your sights on.’ Was he the type of man to take her under the stars if there was someone else in his life and would he even admit to her if he was partial to Lizzy?
‘There is no one else, but I doubt this is truly what either of us wanted. You told me you did not plan to marry again. I know you do not want this either, but it is what is best for the child. And it is what we must do to preserve our reputations and that of our families.’
Her heart sank like a stone. She didn’t love him. It would be absurd to think he loved her. They barely knew one another. And yet, having him state the only reason they would be wed was because she was carrying his child left her heart heavy. Jonathan’s proposal in the drawing room of her parents’ country house fourteen years ago was filled with declarations of love. This one was more like a business arrangement. She wanted to reach for Jonathan’s ring, but stopped herself.
‘If you are inclined,’ he continued, ‘I shall ask my brother, the Duke, to arrange for a special licence. We could be married in a week. Do you agree?’
It was moving much too fast. She wanted him to marry her to give their child a name, but it suddenly seemed so real. In one week, they would be wed and she would no longer be a widow. In one week, she would be his wife. And he was going to tell his brother they needed a special licence because she was with child. How could she possibly face the Duke and Duchess of Winterbourne and whoever else comprised his family? What would they think of her? Certainly, they would assume she had trapped him into marriage. She suddenly didn’t feel very well.
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