It was only after she’d finished the sketch that she realized what she’d done. Again. Though she wasn’t a portrait artist by any means, there was no denying Edward’s countenance smiling at the lady by his side.
Her heart lurched, and she had to swallow against the sudden lump in her throat. He was ever in her thoughts no matter how hard she tried not to think of him. What was he doing this evening, she wondered as she traced the line of his broad shoulders with a finger. Was he at a ball, continuing his pursuit of Lady Dorothy? Or had he found someone else who’d caught his attention?
How long would it take for her feelings for him to fade? She wiped away a tear, doubtful they ever would. There was much to admire about him. His tender regard for his mother and sister. His concern for his tenants and their families. His determination to do what was best for those who depended on him, holding his responsibilities above his own desires. He would make a wonderful husband. She only wished he could be hers.
With a sniff, she tucked the drawing into the drawer of her desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper to begin again.
~*~
Edward opened a letter in his study the following afternoon, frowning as he read the contents from the steward at their country estate. It seemed the roof of the west wing of the house had leaked during a recent storm and caused significant damage. A good portion of it needed to be replaced, along with the plaster and floors of several rooms. The estimate he’d included had Edward tossing the letter across his desk in frustration.
He rose to pace his study, hands on his hips as he considered what could be done. One step forward followed by two steps back. That was how his life was unfolding. Just when he felt hopeful, fate stepped in and slapped him back.
“Good morning, Edward.” Charlotte paused in the doorway. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all.” He glanced once more at the letter before focusing on Charlotte.
Her eyes narrowed as she walked closer. “Is something amiss?”
“Nothing more than a leaky roof.”
“Oh dear. Where?”
He explained the situation but breezed over the severity of the damage. No purpose would be served in worrying her. It was his problem to deal with. If only his father had taken better care of their holdings and finances. Would the day ever come when news like this didn’t flood him with concern, wondering how he could find the money to take care of the problem?
“How unfortunate. Will you need to go to see the damage for yourself?” Charlotte asked.
“I hope that won’t be necessary. At least, not until after your wedding.” He smiled at her look of relief. “Surely you didn’t think I would allow a damaged roof to cause me to miss it.”
“No, of course not. I suppose I can’t help but think marriage to James is too good to be true. That something will arise to halt it.” She blinked rapidly.
Edward drew near to take her hand, alarm flooding him at the idea of her crying. “Nothing of the sort will happen. You and James will have a lovely wedding day, rain or shine. The start of a beautiful life together.”
To his dismay, what he’d meant to reassure her seemed to release the emotions she’d held back. Tears coursed down her cheeks even as he gathered her into his arms.
“What did I say that has upset you so?” he asked while awkwardly patting her on the back.
“Nothing.” She sniffed. “You said the exact right thing. It’s just that I’m s-so h-happy.” The last bit was barely distinguishable as she cried harder.
“Charlotte,” he began, his mind blank as he struggled to think of a way to comfort her. “You don’t sound particularly happy.” Perhaps he needed to have a conversation with Redmond to make sure his friend understood how important Charlotte’s happiness was to him.
“I am, truly.” She leaned back to look into his eyes as if determined to prove it, her tremulous smile less than convincing. “I’ve waited so long for the day to come, and now suddenly it’s nearly upon us. Things are changing so quickly that I can barely catch my breath.”
“You’re not having second thoughts?” If she were, Redmond better have an explanation for the reason.
“Never.” She drew a shaky breath then stepped back to accept his offering of a handkerchief. “I suppose the notion of leaving home is both exciting and nerve-racking.” She dabbed her eyes. “I worry about Mother and how she’ll fare without me.”
“Do you find it odd that she changed bedchambers?” He was still disturbed by the thought and had yet to move into his father’s, though she’d emptied most of the furnishings.
A true smile lit her face. “I think it a wonderful sign as if she is making a fresh start. She and Gordon have been back and forth to the attic many times to find different furnishings. She even found a lovely painting of the seashore. Her new bedchamber already looks wonderful. It’s as if she’s discovering her tastes again.”
Edward hadn’t considered that. Though he detested the reminder of how much his father had smothered her, he appreciated that she was moving forward. “I must say that I’m pleased you’re not moving far. Mother and I would both be lost without you in our lives.”
“You will continue to see me more often than you wish.” She dabbed her eyes once more and seemed to regain her composure. “Now then, I stopped by to ask how your courtship of Lady Dorothy is going.”
Edward caught himself before he scowled. “I don’t think it can be called a courtship yet. We spoke again at last evening’s ball.”
“And?” Charlotte’s brow raised.
“She seems...nice.” His tone sounded unconvincing even to his own ears. Charlotte’s expectant expression held on him as if she waited for him to say more.
How could he explain that Lady Dorothy couldn’t compare to Margaret’s shadow, let alone Margaret herself? She lacked the fire and wit Margaret exuded. Sadly, he felt nothing when he spoke to Lady Dorothy whereas with Margaret, he could barely contain the urge to take her into his arms and kiss her lush lips until her eyes darkened with desire.
So he said nothing.
“Nice?” Charlotte frowned. “Just as I suspected.”
“What?” he asked, hoping she hadn’t read his thoughts.
“I don’t think she’s the one for you.”
“It’s too soon to say.”
“Margaret’s taste is normally impeccable, but I think she’s wrong in this instance.” Charlotte shook her head, her gaze fixed on a point across the room.
He was relieved she wasn’t staring at him else she might’ve seen his longing at the mention of Margaret’s name.
“I shall speak with her at the first opportunity to see if she has other suggestions,” Charlotte declared.
“No need.”
“I disagree. I asked her to call this afternoon, but she declined.”
His hope rose only to fall. Seeing Margaret would serve no purpose. Not when he was trying to convince himself that his feelings for her were merely a fleeting attraction that would soon fade.
“She finally succeeded in convincing her mother to venture to Bath with Mr. and Mrs. Raybourne, so she’s tending her father.”
“Her mother must be recovered then?” While pleased to hear her mother was well, he didn’t care to think that Margaret was once again playing the role of caretaker.
“Yes, she is, according to Margaret. Lady Aberland will be helping as well, of course.”
“Though she has her own family to tend.” Edward was careful to hold back his frustration.
“True,” Charlotte agreed. “I can’t help but feel guilty.”
“Whatever for?”
“The issue that brought us together was the difficulty of our fathers. While I am saddened over Father’s death, I must admit that it has eased some of our problems.”
“He was a difficult man. There’s no reason to pretend otherwise. But you’re right. As challenging as the concerns about the title and our holdings are, other problems have fallen away.”
“
I loved him because he was our father, but I can’t say that I always liked him,” she admitted with reluctance, making him think she’d given the issue much thought.
“I feel the same.” He reached for Charlotte’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “How lucky we are to have each other to speak frankly with about this. Without you, I think guilt might have taken a firm hold over me.”
“And me as well. I don’t think he’d be pleased about my upcoming marriage.”
“It might not be what he had planned for you, but he would’ve eventually realized how happy Redmond makes you. He’s a fine man, and I am so pleased for both of you.” He didn’t want Charlotte to dwell on such things.
“Thank you.” Her genuine smile and the sparkle of happiness in her eyes were all he needed to see.
He didn’t think he’d ever enjoy that same feeling. Hers would have to suffice for them both.
Chapter Seventeen
Margaret looked in on her father after she dressed for the day, pleased to see he still slept peacefully. Her mother would return in two days, and that pleased Margaret to no end. Though the week had passed smoothly with only a few minor issues, she was ready to escape the house for more than an hour or two.
Both Caroline and Aberland had been a tremendous help. Aberland had even taken her father to the dock to look over the shipping business he’d built decades ago. However, the outing had tired Sir Reginald, both in mind and body. It was a reminder that he was growing older, and his mental condition seemed to take a toll on his general wellbeing.
The chair beside his bed stood empty, suggesting he’d had a good night. Barclay needed rest as well but took it as a personal affront when she insisted on sitting with her father when he was restless. She quietly closed the door to let her father sleep.
She’d dreamed of Edward last night and blamed her pensive mood squarely on him. They’d been waltzing, a dance still considered scandalous by many. But it had been divine in his arms. The way he’d held her pressed against him as they’d swept into a turn had kicked her heart into a rapid beat. He’d looked at her as if no one else existed. As if he couldn’t wait to kiss her. As if he wanted more than a kiss. Her body flushed at the memory of his heated look.
He'd drawn her closer when the music ended, the length of his body warming her own, causing her to ache for his touch. Then he’d leaned close until their breaths were one.
But she woke before the promise of that kiss. Unfulfilled desire simmered within her, leaving her agitated.
The hour was still early. The urge to go for a ride proved irresistible, and she hurried downstairs to request a horse be readied for her before returning to her bedchamber to change into a riding habit.
Guilt followed her out the door, but she pushed it away. Chances were her father would just be rising by the time she returned. With the groom following close behind, she rode toward Hyde Park, both she and her mare eager for a brisk gallop.
The early morning air was cool, the sun only a hint on the horizon. She loved this hour when the world seemed fresh and new and all things possible. The park was so different at this time of the day, feeling more like the country than the city.
No matter how often she told herself it was silly, she looked for Edward. She blamed her need to see him on the dream. Just because they’d met here before didn’t mean he would be there that morning.
After a long gallop and no glimpse of Edward, she and the groom returned home. It was ridiculous to feel so disappointed, but she couldn’t help it. She missed him.
She hurried upstairs to change, walking past her father’s bedchamber on the way to her own, and heard Barclay’s quiet tone through the closed door. Both men were awake. By the time she entered the dining room, her father was enjoying his first cup of coffee.
“Good morning, Father.”
“Margaret,” he said with a nod. “I trust you slept well.”
“I did. And you?” She glanced about, surprised when Samuel, one of the footmen, served breakfast rather than Barclay. But she didn’t ask after him as she didn’t want to worry her father.
By the end of breakfast, she was truly concerned at Barclay’s continued absence. She settled her father in his study with the previous day’s news sheet that she’d reviewed to make certain it didn’t contain news that might upset him. Then she returned to the entrance hall to ask Samuel where the elderly butler was.
“He is resting, miss. Said he wasn’t feeling well.” Based on the servant’s furrowed brow, he was also concerned.
“Will you keep me apprised of how he’s faring? And please let me know if he needs anything.”
“Of course, miss.”
She returned to her father’s side to spend the morning with him, hoping whatever ailed Barclay was nothing serious. There were times when she forgot the servant was aging. He was such a pillar of strength to their family that she couldn’t imagine their lives without him.
It was mid-afternoon during her father’s nap before Barclay entered the drawing room, his steps slower than normal. Margaret studied him carefully. “Barclay, I’m pleased to see you up and about but should you be resting?”
“I'm well enough, miss. Tired, but nothing more, thank you. I'm sorry to have been absent at breakfast this morning.”
“Please do not concern yourself. Are you sure it's not serious?”
Barclay hesitated and her stomach tightened with concern. “May I speak plainly?”
“Of course.” She clasped her hands tightly on her lap, fearing she knew what he was going to say.
“I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if I retired soon. Though you and your family have been like my own and I don't want to leave, my energy isn't what it used to be. It might be best if someone younger took my place. I can’t always give Sir Reginald the help he needs.”
Margaret's stomach sank. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that but I understand. The hours you keep are not those of a normal servant. My father requires more care than most men his age. It can be exhausting.” She felt it often herself.
“My biggest concern is you, miss.” Barclay’s brown eyes held on hers with sympathy. When had they become cloudy? How had she not noticed how much he’d aged of late? “With your sisters gone, you shoulder more than your fair share of the burden. I hate to step away when you need me.”
Margaret swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. How would they manage without him? It felt as if one person after another was leaving her. First Caroline. Then Annabelle. She hadn’t considered that Barclay might leave as well.
This news made her realize that she’d held a faint hope in a tiny part of her heart that marriage might be possible because of her feelings for Edward. Now that hope was snuffed out completely. Without Barclay, she could never leave her mother to care for her father alone. But none of that was Barclay’s concern. He deserved to have a relaxing retirement after all he’d done for her family.
“Nothing of the sort.” She managed a small smile as she smoothed the skirt of her gown with a trembling hand, hoping he didn’t see it. “I don't intend to marry and am happy to remain here with mother and father. But what of you? Where will you go?”
He smiled for the first time, and his gaze lifted to the window, though she suspected he saw something completely different than the view. “My sister and her husband have invited me to live in a small cottage near them. I will have my own place but with family down the road. It’s near the sea, and I look forward to walking along the shore with my grand-nieces and nephews. I am ready to put the city behind me and smell the fresh sea air.”
“That sounds lovely. I am so happy for you.” And she was. Feeling sorry for herself was ridiculous. This had been her plan all along. She was just sad that Barclay wouldn't continue on with them.
“If you don't mind, miss, I will speak with Lady Gold soon after her return. I would prefer to explain it to her myself.”
“Of course. It will remain our secret for now.” She rose to take
both of the elderly man's hands in hers. “I cannot begin to express my gratitude for everything you have done. I will miss you terribly.”
He squeezed her hands. “You are most welcome. Your family has been a joy, and I will miss all of you as well. It has been my pleasure to watch you and your sisters grow into fine young ladies. I wish you every happiness.” A shadow crossed his eyes. “Sir Reginald's plight is a reminder to us all that life does not wait for us. I dearly hope you will find peace and happiness in yours. Never take a day for granted because sometimes, when you turn around, your days are nearly gone.” With one last smile, he released her hands and turned for the door.
Margaret watched his slow stride carry him out of the room, her heart heavy. How would they ever manage without him?
~*~
Edward settled into a chair at his club, waiting for Redmond to join him. It had been too long since they’d had a chance to spend a few hours together. He was eager to hear how Redmond’s work with the charity for wounded soldiers was progressing. He also wanted to ask if his friend had witnessed any of Charlotte’s emotional upheaval.
While he waited, Edward perused the news sheet, nodding at a few acquaintances who passed by. The club was busy but that didn’t override the hushed tones of the members.
“Good afternoon, Wynn.” Viscount Chivington paused at the table. “Mind if I join you for a moment?”
Chivington had been a year or two behind Edward and Redmond at university. He was an affable fellow with dark hair, friendly brown eyes, and had been an excellent cricket player, something that made him quite popular with his peers.
Edward set aside the news sheet and gestured toward one of the leather wingback chairs at the table. “Please do, though I’m expecting Redmond soon.”
“Ah.” Chivington took a seat. “Another of us who has put his roguish ways behind him and will soon succumb to marriage.” He shook his head as he folded his hands over his slim stomach.
Edmund raised a brow at his tone. “I didn't realize you were opposed to matrimony.”
“Nothing of the sort.” Chivington waved a hand in dismissal “I suppose I, too, will soon take the leap.”
A Rogue Meets His Match (The Rogue Chronicles Book 7) Page 17