27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A fter supper, the tables and chairs were moved to the edges of the room for a dance to celebrate the impending wedding in the morning. Reid stood near the door, watching Charlotte with Stephen. Though there was an awkward newness to their relationship, there was also an undercurrent of familiarity that could not be denied. During the meal, which Reid couldn’t stomach for different reasons, there had been a lot of uncertain smiles, flushed cheeks, and hesitant glances—but mingled in between those moments were deep laughter, nods of understanding, and animated conversations that suggested they were recalling old memories and shared experiences.

Occasionally, Charlotte had glanced in Reid’s direction, and he had tried to smile for her—but there was so little to smile about he struggled to do her that small favor. He knew she was doubtful, that she felt obligated to follow through with her promise to marry Stephen. He’d once told her that he would try to convince Stephen not to marry her, but it would be a futile attempt. Stephen and Charlotte were good and honorable people. They would do the right thing. It would only make them uncomfortable and unhappy if he tried to interfere.

“Reid?” Joseph moved to stand beside Reid. “May I have a word with you?”

“Aye.” Anything to give Reid the excuse to leave the party.

He followed Joseph to his office, where a candle flickered on his desk. Outside, the storm still blew forcefully and without ceasing. Even if he had wanted to leave before the wedding, he would be hard pressed to travel right now.

“Have a seat.” Joseph motioned to one of the chairs across the desk from where he sat. “I’d like to speak to you about your post.”

Stephen had mentioned that Charlotte had already spoken to Joseph on his behalf, but he hadn’t told him the details or what Charlotte had said.

“Lady Charlotte was very persuasive.” Joseph’s smile was large. “I can tell she cares a great deal for you. She said you saved her life several times and defended her honor as well.”

Reid didn’t speak. What could he say? Charlotte’s word was just as good—if not better—than his.

“She has convinced me that you were only acting as a gentleman on her behalf—and since she is a lady, I am honor bound to believe her.” He leaned forward. “’Tis still against the rules for her to be here, but in this instance, with your impeccable reputation and service to the North West Company—and Lachlan McCoy’s arrest—I’ve decided to overlook your behavior.”

Reid sat perfectly still, unsure how he felt about Joseph’s decision. He had been expecting a dismissal from the North West Company, and now that it was not forthcoming, he felt—disappointed, even frustrated. Had he wanted to be dismissed? But why? Hadn’t it been his desire to become a shareholder? It was the only thing that had driven him these past fifteen years.

Or had it been something else entirely?

Did he want to be a shareholder—or did he simply want revenge? All these years, he’d thought the only way to show his father he was the better man was through his ascension in the North West Company. Now that Lachlan was in custody facing murder charges, there was nothing else to prove. His desire to continue in the fur trade no longer held the same appeal.

And without Charlotte at his post, the years ahead suddenly felt bleak and meaningless.

But what else could he do? Returning to Montreal without the income from being a shareholder meant he’d have to start over in a different trade. That didn’t sound appealing either.

He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I dinna expect you to say that.”

“You thought I’d send you home to Montreal?”

“Aye.”

“You look disappointed that you’re staying.”

Reid tried not to look disappointed. He had no right to be. He was a fur trader, and Charlotte was an English lady. It was foolish to wish for things that were not meant to be.

“Reid.” Joseph studied him carefully. “Staying in the fur trade is not worth the sacrifice.”

Reid frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Lady Charlotte. I have eyes, and I can see how she feels about you.” He smiled. “I dinna ken until now how you felt about her.”

Was it that obvious? He straightened and set his face. “I’m a fur trader.”

“And she’s not a fur trader’s lady?”

Reid was unwilling to discuss it further. There was little choice. Reid must return to his post and continue with his plans—though he no longer had the same burning desire to capture the trade from the XY Company.

Joseph didn’t press any further but reached for a letter on the corner of his desk. “I have started to pen a letter to McTavish, Mackenzie, and Pond to recommend you as a shareholder when we gather at the Rendezvous in July.” He turned it for Reid to see. “I have always been impressed with your hard work and dedication to the North West Company, and barring this one instance with Lady Charlotte, you have been above reproach.”

He should have been relieved—or even proud. But he felt nothing.

“Now that we’ve settled our business,” Joseph said, “shall we return to the party?”

“’Tis been a long day. I think I’ll go to bed.” Reid stood, not tired, but needing to stay as far from Charlotte as possible tonight.

Joseph nodded with understanding and clapped him on the back. “You deserve some rest.”

Reid parted ways with Joseph and started down the hall to the stairway—but then he saw the door leading into Daanis’s room, and he took a deep breath. He couldn’t simply dismiss her without speaking to her first. Yes, she had aided Lachlan’s scheme, but he also knew she had been a victim of her circumstances. If anyone needed a bit of reassurance or hope tonight, it was Daanis.

He knocked on her door and when she answered, he opened it wide.

She sat in a chair, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, staring out the window at the dark. Snow swirled around the window frame, but the candle on the small table near her elbow reflected off the glass and didn’t allow much to be seen outside.

When she saw it was Reid, she sat up straighter, fear tightening her face and shoulders.

“Dinna fash,” he said quickly. “I willna harm you.”

She pulled the blanket tighter. “What do you want?”

He kept her door open but entered the room to stand before her. “I want to help you, lass. However I can.”

Her dark eyes filled with uncertainty. “Help me?”

“I ken you’re just as innocent as I am.” Though innocent wasn’t quite the right word. Both had made choices that had not been wise, though they had done it for the people they loved.

She stared at him. “Does this mean you will take me as your wife?”

He sighed. “No, lass, but I will speak to your faither on your behalf. And I will give you aid whenever ’tis in my power.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “My father will be angry with me.”

“I suppose he will. But he will forgive you.” He tried to smile. “And I hear you have a wee bairn coming.”

She nodded and looked down at her stomach. She rested her hand there, and her face softened. The baby would be hers, and she would love it and care for it under the protection of her father. Hopefully, in time she might find a man to love and help her raise the baby. But until then, she’d have Noemie’s friendship to see her through the difficult days ahead.

“We will wait until this storm passes and then head back to Crow Wing with Jean-Paul and the other men,” Reid told her.

Daanis finally looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry for everything. I was only trying to please my father.”

“I ken, lass, and I’m sorry too.”

There was nothing left to say, so he exited her room and closed the door.

The hallway was dark and empty, making the sound of revelry all the louder. With a sigh, he turned toward the stairs and went to his cold room.

He wouldn’t sleep for many hours, so there was no reason to go to bed. Instead, he did as Daanis had been doing and took a seat near the window without lighting a candle. Below him, long rectangles of light spilled onto the snowy yard from the front room. Music and laughter filtered up through the floorboards, making him think about the woman who was celebrating down below.

Would he ever find a way to forget Charlotte?

He sat there for several minutes, thinking about the day she had shown up at his house, then the day she had cut her hair to join him in the fur trade. Of the nights they had lain in the tent, talking for hours on end, or the day he’d discovered she could draw—and had found the picture she’d drawn of him. So many memories returned, each one a gift he’d treasure as long as he lived.

A knock sounded at his door, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Aye?”

“It’s Charlotte.” There was a brief pause. “May I come in?”

Reid’s pulse thrummed at the sound of her voice. Was she alone or was Stephen with her?

Part of him wanted to run to the door and yank it open to see her—the other part wanted to send her away. Seeing her and not being able to hold her would be torture.

But he could never turn her away. Rising, he crossed his room and opened the door.

She stood there in the green gown, her chest rising and falling, her eyes large and luminous as she searched the darkness for his face. Her curls looked as soft and inviting as ever, brushing her shoulders.

Neither one spoke for a moment. “May I come in?” she asked again.

“Is it proper for an English lady to be in the room of a single man on the eve of her wedding?”

“I think this is the least of our transgressions.” Her voice was low and teasing, though there was truth to her words that sobered him.

“Aye.” He stood back and opened the door wider.

She entered his room, the heels of her shoes clicking on the wood floor. She moved with an elegance and grace that looked foreign in this far-off fur post.

“Would you like me to keep the door open?” he asked.

Charlotte turned and tilted her head. “Do we need to worry about propriety? We slept in the same tent together for over three months.”

He left the door open. “Things are different now, lass.” The room was dark, but his eyes had adjusted, and he could see her plainly. She had a sad smile on her face.

“I wish they weren’t.”

“Why have you come?”

“You don’t need to be Stephen’s best man tomorrow morning. Anyone can fill that role.”

“Aye.” Someone else could do a better job as best man—and as Charlotte’s husband. Once again, he was second best when it mattered the most. First with his father, and now with Charlotte.

Looking down at her clasped hands, she nibbled her bottom lip. “You don’t need to come to the ceremony tomorrow.”

“You dinna want me there?”

“I think, given the circumstances, it would be best if you stayed away.”

Neither one spoke for a moment. He didn’t want to be there when she promised her life to another man, but he didn’t want this to be goodbye either.

She stood only three feet from him, but she felt a world away. Everything within him wanted to hold her one last time, to feel her in his arms.

“Is this goodbye then?” he asked.

Her eyes were rimmed with tears when she finally looked up at him. One slipped down her cheek, trailing across the smooth skin. “I think so.”

His chest tightened, and he struggled to take a deep breath.

She moved around him toward the door, the sleeve of her gown brushing his hand as she passed. He longed to reach for her, to pull her into his arms, but he simply flexed his fingers.

She stopped at the door and then turned around. With a small cry, she rushed back into his arms.

He wrapped her in a tight embrace, pressing his lips against her curls. “Charlotte.” He whispered her name. Though it was but one word, it held every emotion he felt.

Her arms were around his waist, her pounding heart pressed against his torso.

“I love you,” she said on a breath.

And then as quickly as she came to him, she was gone.

Tears streamed down Charlotte’s cheeks as she walked through the dark hallway toward her room at the opposite end. She had no heart to stay at the party and had excused herself from Stephen’s side to say goodbye to Reid. She had thought it would make her feel better somehow, but she felt worse than before and wanted nothing more than space to be alone and cry the pain from her heart.

“Charlotte?” Stephen appeared at the top of the stairs, a candle in his hand, uncertainty on his face. “Is something wrong?”

She quickly wiped her cheeks and tried to smile, but her lips wobbled with the effort. “I’m fine.”

He frowned but didn’t press her for more information—not like Reid would. He would have tried to find the answer for her, to heal her, to make her feel better, but Stephen simply stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Is there anything else I can get for you before I retire for the evening?” he asked.

She closed her eyes at the request, hating that he sounded like her servant and not her fiancé.

“Can we speak for a moment?” She needed him to understand his role as her husband. She needed a lord for her manor—not another servant. He must find the confidence he lacked before they returned to England, or she feared he would never take his rightful place as the head of their family.

“As you wish.” He gave a slight bow. “Where shall we go?”

“My room?”

His eyes grew wide. “Before we’re married?”

She had to fight impatience as she walked to her door and opened it. “There are few other places that will offer as much privacy.”

“Should I get a chaperone?”

“Stephen.” She said his name with more irritation than she intended and then paused to take a steady breath. “I have been living as a man in the northwest wilderness for the past seven months. Having you in my room the night before our wedding is the least of our worries right now.”

He nodded nervously and followed her into her room, looking up and down the hall before closing the door.

His candle sent shadows dancing on the walls and over the bed. When he saw where she slept, he turned so suddenly the flame flickered and almost died—and he ended up facing the wall.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” She took his arm. “Over here by the window.”

He sidestepped across the room until he reached the chair and waited until she sat on the one opposite.

After he sat, he set the candle on the table nearby. His hands shook so violently the clay candle holder tapped against the wood until he let it go, then he clamped his hands tight between his knees.

Her impatience was mounting, and she didn’t know how to tamp it down.

“There are things we should discuss before tomorrow.” Charlotte was not nervous. Her feelings had been raw and tender with Reid, but now that she faced Stephen, she felt almost nothing.

Stephen struggled to meet Charlotte’s gaze.

“First, I want to thank you for coming all this way for me.” She was truly grateful. “But I need to know if you plan to return to the fur trade or if you will go home to England with me.”

“Whatever you wish.”

She frowned. “I want to know what you want.”

He opened his mouth, but then he closed it again. “I want to make you happy, Lady Charlotte.”

As he sat before her, she couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to sit across from Reid and discuss her future. She couldn’t imagine him being this uncomfortable or rigid—or indecisive.

Stephen’s discomfort made Charlotte uncomfortable. How long would it take before she was used to his company? Would she ever long to be with him, like she did with Reid? Would she crave his love and affection, his tender embrace? What would it feel like to be kissed by Stephen?

The thought of consummating their marriage the following day made her feel physically ill. How could they go from hardly knowing one another to sharing something so intimate? Shouldn’t they at least kiss?

Nerves bubbled in her stomach, but she stood. “Will you kiss me, Stephen?”

He looked up so quickly, she was afraid he had hurt his neck. “Kiss you?”

Charlotte nodded.

“Do you think it proper? Here, alone in your room, before we’re married?”

“Of course it’s not proper.” She reached out her hand to him. “But I would very much like for you to kiss me right now.”

He stared at her for a heartbeat, then took her hand and stood. His palm was cold and moist.

Stephen was a tall man, but not nearly as broad shouldered as Reid. When he stood before her, she had to look up at him.

They faced each other, and she waited for him to make the first move—but he didn’t. His hand shook and he cleared his throat.

She lifted her eyebrows.

“Now?” he asked.

Nodding, she tipped her head back a little farther so he could easily reach her lips.

Stephen did not step closer but bent at the waist and puckered his lips. He closed his eyes and bobbed like a chicken pecking at cornmeal. The brief touch of their lips carried no passion whatsoever. His lips were dry and scratched her skin.

Dropping his hands to his side, he took a step back, putting even more space between them.

Charlotte’s eyes stung with unshed tears. What was she doing with this man, when there was another down the hall who loved her passionately and with abandon? If she had not committed to marrying Stephen and asked him to come all this way, she would run back to Reid’s arms, no matter the obstacles that faced them.

Stephen swallowed and looked like he might become ill. But why? Surely, kissing her couldn’t be as bad as that.

“Do you want to marry me?” she asked quietly.

“Of course I do.” He backed up until he was behind the chair and put his hands on the top. He clutched the wood until his knuckles turned white.

“Why?” she asked.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you come all this way to marry me? Do you love me?”

“I would be a fool not to marry you. You’re the lady of Blissfield Manor.”

“But do you love me?”

“I am fond of you,” he said tentatively.

“Fondness is not love.”

“Won’t love grow in time?” he asked, as if he really needed to know.

“I’m not sure.” She thought about the love she felt for Reid and was more concerned about the love she needed to forget than the one she needed to find. “Have you ever been in love before, Stephen?”

He dropped his gaze, and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Yes.” When he finally looked at Charlotte, sadness and joy mingled within his gaze. “I have loved someone very deeply.”

“What happened?”

He didn’t speak for a moment, then said, “I left her to come to you.”

Charlotte’s mouth cracked open. “You’re in love with someone right now?”

“I didn’t mean to fall in love.” His voice was apologetic. “She nursed me back to health when I was sick last summer. I met her after I wrote the letter to you.”

Charlotte walked across the small space and put her hand on his arm. “Why did you leave her?”

“Because I made a promise to you, and I’m a man of my word.”

Charlotte’s breath caught at the declaration. “Do you still want to be with her?”

Pain pinched his eyebrows together. “I could never do that to you.”

Shaking her head, Charlotte laughed with joy. “You do not need to marry me, Stephen.”

“But your guardian—”

“There is someone else who has asked me to be his wife.” Yet even as she said the words, she wondered how she and Reid could ever make such a marriage work. He would stay with the trade, and she would need to return to England. The thought of being apart was almost unbearable. Yet—if she had to give up Blissfield Manor for him, she would. She could always sell the property and stay in Montreal. At least then, she would be closer to him, and it would not take as long for him to come to her when he had his leave.

Stephen took a tentative step away from the chair. “You do not need me?”

“I would never want you to marry me out of obligation when you are already in love with someone else.” Tears formed for a different reason this time. “I know what it feels like to be separated from the person you love, and I could not bear to be the reason you are apart from the woman you wish to marry.”

He took her hands, and this time they were warm. “Do you mean that, Lady Charlotte?”

“I mean that with all of my heart.” She smiled. “And I will compensate you for your efforts in coming to my aid.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Having your blessings to pursue Marguerite is all the compensation I need.”

When he took her into his arms, it was the hug of two old friends.

“It was good to see you again,” Charlotte said. “When I see your parents, I will send them your love and tell them they have a courageous and honorable son.”

Stephen stepped back and gave her a slight bow. “It’s been my honor to serve you, my lady.”

“Thank you.”

He walked across her room and opened the door. Then, he turned and smiled at her before slipping out into the dark hallway.

Charlotte took a deep breath and faced the flickering candle. If Reid refused to marry her, she’d be at a loss with what to do with her life. She still needed a husband to keep Roger from forcing her to marry him. If Reid said no, she would have no choice but to marry a stranger.

But it was a risk she was willing to take.

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