Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
M atilda settled with others on the picnic blankets, the sunlight dappling through the trees, casting fleeting patterns across their gathering. She tried to ignore the satisfaction that still hummed through her veins after being alone with Christopher. The memory of his touch, his lips, and the desperate passion they shared in the grotto made her heart race and her skin flush with warmth.
In all her years attending the Season, mingling with suitors, and enduring the half-hearted attentions of gentlemen admirers, she had never felt such an overwhelming sense of rightness as when she was with Christopher. Everything fell into place with him—her desires, her dreams, her very sense of self.
She sipped her champagne, its cool bubbling doing little to ease the heat rising within her. The lively conversation around her barely registered. He consumed her thoughts, and inevitably, her gaze sought him out again and again.
Christopher continued to lean against a pile of plush cushions. Just as their eyes met, he popped another ripe strawberry into his mouth. Her stomach clenched with longing, a fresh wave of hunger overtaking her. How was it possible to still want him after what had transpired mere minutes ago?
She clenched her hands in her lap, struggling to maintain her composure. How was she to keep herself from throwing caution—and propriety—to the wind and throwing herself at him right here, in front of everyone?
"What a beautiful spot, Lord Charteris." Lady Delphine’s voice was exceedingly sweet as she shifted closer to Christopher. "I cannot thank you enough for bringing me here."
Matilda’s smile froze. Lady Delphine’s intention was clear to anyone with eyes. The woman’s movements were deliberate, her manner saccharine. It was unmistakable she wanted Christopher as her husband and seemed determined to secure her prize.
Matilda’s heart tightened. There may have been a time when she would have let Lady Delphine have her way without a second thought, but not now. Not when her feelings for Christopher had grown into something undeniable, something she could not ignore.
Surely, their connection, the fiery chemistry that burned whenever they were near each other, was mutual. She couldn’t have imagined the desire in his dark eyes or the passion in his touch.
Lady Delphine’s syrupy smile widened. "I must say, it’s a joy to have everyone together. In fact…" She paused dramatically, her gaze flicking to Christopher, who looked up with a faint frown. "I believe this is the perfect moment to share some wonderful news."
Matilda stilled, her heart thudding loudly in her chest. Whatever news was she talking of? She had not heard of anything untoward or newsworthy that had happened at the ducal estate.
Lady Delphine’s voice turned coy, her smile triumphant. "Lord Charteris and I have an announcement to make."
Christopher sat up, his frown deepening. "We do?" He cleared his throat and moved to close the space to Lady Delphine. "I do not believe there is anything to say…"
Lady Delphine’s laugh was high-pitched and brittle and broke into Christophers words. "Don’t be coy, my darling lord. This is no time for teasing."
Darling…
Matilda met Christopher's eyes and saw the apprehension in his brown gaze.
Lady Delphine turned to the gathered guests, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Since we were young adults—we have been secretly engaged! But now, there is no longer a need to keep it a secret." She paused, smiling at everyone in their party. "Do you not wish us happy?"
The words struck Matilda like a physical blow. Her ears rang, and her grip on her champagne glass tightened.
"Lord Charteris asked me for my hand in marriage over ten years ago, and I joyfully accepted." Lady Delphine clapped her hands as if she had just declared the most delightful news in the world. "Now that we are of an age where delaying is no longer wise, I thought it was time to announce our impending union."
Matilda watched Christopher, who appeared utterly bewildered. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.
"Lady Delphine," he began, glaring at her in warning. "What are you doing?"
Lady Delphine's laugh tinkled like a bell, but it resembled a death knell to Matilda. "I informed our parents this morning, and they are, of course, overjoyed. We shall be married within the month, and you are invited." She turned to them all, her eyes bright with triumph. "Isn’t it wonderful? Even you shall attend, Lady Matilda, before you depart the estate."
The world seemed to tilt, and the cheerful chatter of the other guests turned into an indistinct hum, blending with the pounding of her heart. Charlotte congratulated her brother and Lady Delphine, and the vicar offered his services for the ceremony.
All were so happy for the couple, but Matilda could not breathe.
Her thoughts tumbled in a chaotic whirl of disbelief and betrayal. Engaged? To Lady Delphine? After everything they had shared—after everything he had whispered to her—how could this be happening?
Her gaze found Christopher’s, searching for answers, but his expression was unreadable. He looked as though he had been blindsided, yet he said nothing to refute Lady Delphine’s claims. He did not try to salvage a future between herself and his lordship.
"You’ve been secretly engaged?" Matilda’s voice broke through the fog of conversation, trembling with barely restrained anger. "Is that why you’ve insisted you have no interest in marriage? Because you were never truly free to choose?"
Lady Delphine turned to her, her expression one of feigned innocence. "Oh, dear Lady Matilda, I understand why you might be surprised. But yes, we’ve been betrothed for years. It was our little secret, wasn’t it, Christopher?" She beamed at him, though her grip on his arm tightened possessively.
Christopher opened his mouth as if to speak, but Lady Delphine forged ahead. "It was difficult, of course, to keep our love concealed. But we thought it best until the time was right. And now, the wait is over. I can finally celebrate our union openly and begin planning the wedding we’ve both dreamed of."
The sharp ache in Matilda’s chest was unbearable. She couldn’t reconcile the man who had kissed her, touched her, and whispered promises in the grotto with the one sitting silently beside Lady Delphine.
Her cheeks burned with humiliation, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. She had been a fool. He had used her, and she had let him like some stupid harlequin she was not.
"Well…" Her voice sounded brittle, even to her ears. "Congratulations to you both. I’m sure everyone will be eager to begin planning your nuptials."
Standing abruptly, she placed her glass on the blanket and turned toward the carriages.
"Lady Matilda," Christopher called after her with an urgency she’d not heard before. She ignored him, quickening her pace as tears pricked her eyes.
He caught up with her just as she reached the carriages, his hand closing around her arm. "Matilda, please wait."
She wrenched her arm free, her eyes flashing with anger. "What could you possibly have to say to me, my lord? Commiserations? An apology? Spare me your excuses. I have no interest in hearing them."
"Let me explain," he pleaded, a desperate edge to his words. "This isn’t what I want. I swear to you?—"
"Swear to me?" she yelled, interrupting him. "Swear to me when everything you’ve said and done has been a lie? You let me believe…" Her voice broke, and she drew in a shuddering breath. "You let me believe I mattered to you. That we…"
Her words faltered, and she shook her head. "I was a fool to trust you. But no longer. I’m leaving."
"Don’t." He reached for her hand. "Please do not leave like this."
She wrenched away. "I’m going to Genevieve’s. She needs me, and I cannot stay here another moment."
"Matilda," he implored.
Her eyes locked with his, and for a fleeting moment, she saw the regret in his gaze. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
"Goodbye, Christopher." She stepped into the carriage and closed the door.
Through the window, she saw him move back, his hands clenched at his sides as the carriage rolled away. Lady Delphine’s smug expression lingered in her mind, a bitter reminder of the triumph she had claimed at her expense.
Matilda’s heart ached, but her resolve hardened. She would leave this place, leave him, and never look back.
But as the carriage rumbled away, she couldn’t stop the silent tears that slipped down her cheeks.
He was the one man she had ever truly wanted; now, he was lost to her.
Forever.