Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
C hristopher tried to ignore Lady Delphine, who clung to him whenever the curricle rolled over a small rock or divot in the road. She gasped theatrically, pretending to be far more alarmed than the situation warranted.
Of course, the carriage's elevated height and the uneven country roads could make for a bumpy ride, but she was perfectly safe. He was an accomplished driver and knew these roads better than he knew himself. There was no danger, yet she clutched his arm as if it were the only thing tethering her to this beautiful green earth.
He attempted to free his arm to better control the reins, but she tightened her hold, determined to remain attached to him. Giving up, he sighed inwardly and focused on the distant grotto, yearning for the moment they would arrive so he could finally escape her annoying clutches.
"It is so nice to be alone, is it not?" Lady Delphine tilted up her face with a smile. Her voice carried a syrupy sweetness that made his stomach knot with dread. "We’ve had so little time together since your return, and I'm quite put out by it."
Christopher’s jaw tightened, biting back the words that he was far from concerned about her absence in his life. A telling response from a man toward a woman, and one she ought to heed if she wished for a love match.
"Have you thought any more about our understanding? I thought you might have decided when to inform our parents of our longstanding engagement. I do wish to marry you, as you know."
Dread settled more heavily in his chest. He stared ahead, tightening his grip on the reins as he fought to clear his mind. He didn’t want to hurt Lady Delphine—they’d known each other since childhood—but this foolishness needed to end.
"Lady Delphine," he began, his tone measured. "The promise was made when we were children. I do not feel the way I once convinced myself I did. I think it would be best if we both forget that youthful agreement and seek our happiness elsewhere."
He glanced at her, forcing a placating smile, but the glistening tears pooling in her eyes made it clear this would not be the easy conversation he had hoped for.
"I’ve waited years for you to announce our engagement.” She swiped at a lone tear, her hand trembling. "I’ve been patient, Christopher. I did not push you or write letters demanding that you honor your promise, and now you’re saying you’ve changed your mind? That we were too young to understand what we wanted? I refuse to believe you would treat me so poorly, especially when at the lake you made me believe we would be announcing our happy news soon."
He sighed, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. "Delphine, I do not want to argue with you, but we were children. I barely knew what I was asking of you. I hoped, in time, that you would find love elsewhere, as I was not seeking marriage myself. But I cannot let you continue to believe there is a future between us. It was wrong of me to give you hope at the lake that day, but I did not wish to ruin your visit here in Kent. But I do not wish to marry you. I am very sorry."
Her lower lip trembled, and she blinked quickly. "I’m seven and twenty, Christopher. No one will want to marry me now. I’m practically an old maid."
"That is not true," he rebuked. "You’re beautiful, Delphine, and an heiress. Countless men would court you if you were to attend the London Season and consort with your peers. But I am not the one for you and never will be. I cannot give you the happiness you deserve."
She shook her head stubbornly. "I think you should let me be the judge of that."
He drew in a steadying breath, knowing he needed to be direct, no matter how much it might sting. "I do not love you, Delphine. I’m sorry to speak so plainly, but it’s the truth. This arrangement—this mistake of our making—should have been set aside long ago. I cannot offer you what you want, and I won’t pretend otherwise."
She moved away from him, silent now, and he felt a pang of guilt for his harshness.
"I suppose Lady Matilda is the reason you’ve changed your mind," she countered with accusation.
Christopher almost choked on the denial that rushed to his lips. "Of course not," he quickly countered. "This has nothing to do with Lady Matilda or anyone else. My feelings—or lack thereof—are independent of anyone else. Please understand that."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Whatever you say, Lord Charteris. I’m sure, in time, I’ll find a match better suited to my character than you ever could have been."
He ignored the barb and tried to ease the tension. "You will see. When you meet a man who truly adores you, you’ll understand why I’ve said what I have today. I do not say this to hurt you but to ensure your future is happier than I could make it."
He pulled the carriage to a stop near the picnic location, setting the brake before climbing down to assist her. She stepped off the carriage with practiced grace, avoiding his gaze as she adjusted her skirts.
The other carriages soon arrived, and under the shade of a copse of trees, the servants began setting up a picturesque picnic with blankets, cushions, and baskets of food.
"Oh, it’s been far too long since I was last here." All but bouncing with excitement, Charlotte tugged her husband toward the lake that glittered in the sunlight.
"This way to the grotto," Christopher called, motioning for the remaining guests to follow. Yet, glancing over his shoulder, he saw that only one person had heeded his invitation.
Matilda.
He paused, watching her approach with a lightness in her step that belied the teasing glint in her eyes.
"Where is everyone else?" he asked, feigning confusion. "I thought we were here to see the grotto, not the lake."
Matilda glanced back at the others. Charlotte, the reverend, and his wife had all drifted toward the water while Lady Delphine seated herself on a picnic blanket and sipped lemonade.
"I suppose they had other priorities." Matilda shrugged. "But I want to see the grotto—if you’re still willing to show me."
He smiled despite himself. "I’d be willing to show you anything," he blurted before realizing the implication of his words.
Matilda’s lips twitched. "Really?" Her tone playful. "After yesterday’s disappointing lesson in your office, I’m not sure you should make promises of pleasurable outings unless you intend to follow through."
His body tensed, desire flaring to life as he led her into the grotto. Once they were out of sight of the others, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
Christopher slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her into a shadowy corner. "You think I didn’t suffer yesterday, not being able to finish you off as I wanted?" he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "I was hard for hours, Matilda. I hungered for your taste, to hear your breathless cries of my name that never came. And then, last evening, just when I was free from our guests, you slipped off to bed before I could steal you away."
Her arms looped around his neck, her smile a Siren call. "Well," she murmured, her voice flowing over him like silk, "I’m here now."
He didn’t hesitate. Lowering his head, he captured her lips in a kiss that spoke of all the frustration, longing, and passion that had consumed him since their last encounter. But even as the kiss deepened, he knew one thing for certain.
It would never be enough.