Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
L ady Delphine trailed after Christopher, her footsteps deliberate as she approached the line of carriages. Christopher paced the area, his eyes fixed on the retreating carriage carrying Matilda away. As it disappeared from view, a wave of panic surged through him.
Had he lost her for good?
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his thoughts racing. The weight of Lady Delphine’s earlier announcement bore down on him like a leaden shroud, and with sinking certainty, he realized he had.
"Lady Delphine, what are you thinking about announcing our faux engagement like that?" He clasped her hand and marched her toward an enclosed carriage, needing to return home posthaste and clear this horrible mess Lady Delphine had created.
"We, madam, are not engaged, " he growled, barely containing his anger. His stomach churned, a storm of emotions roiling inside him as he tried to fathom how to fix the disaster Lady Delphine had so brazenly created.
Lady Delphine settled into the plush squabs with infuriating calm, her gloved hands smoothing her skirts. "You asked for my hand." She remained composed, though her eyes glinted with calculation. "I am simply holding you to your word. Our parents are delighted, and I am, too. I’ve never stopped loving you, Christopher, and I am ready to become your wife. You should not have made your proposal if you did not mean it."
Christopher slammed the carriage door shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the enclosed space. He dropped onto the seat opposite her, his jaw tight with frustration. "What is wrong with you, Delphine? Do you truly believe this is acceptable? We were children. Children! That promise meant nothing then, and it certainly does not mean anything now."
Her lips curved into a practiced pout that might have seemed innocent without the stone beneath it. "I am seven and twenty, my lord. At my age, few men will offer marriage. I have not had a Season nor sought suitors because I trusted your word. You asked me to be your wife, and I waited patiently for you. Perhaps you should apologize for your lapse in judgment rather than chastise me for expecting you to honor it."
He dragged a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to bellow. "I will not marry you. As soon as we return to the estate, I will amend this catastrophic error and see that you understand the truth of the matter. Then you will leave my home and return to yours."
Lady Delphine’s smile tightened, but her composure did not falter. "If you wish to create a scandal, by all means, dissolve the engagement. But I assure you, the whispers will follow you—and Lady Matilda. Everyone saw her flee the picnic in tears after our secret engagement was announced. Do you think society will not put the piece together and assume the worst of her?"
Her words struck like a blow, and he recoiled, his breath catching. "I do not wish to hurt Matilda.”
"Then I suggest you do not." Delphine’s tone was smooth as silk. "Do the honorable thing, Christopher. Marry me, as you promised. Lady Matilda will find someone else, someone more suited to her. As for you, I will be a devoted wife and ensure our union is one to be envied."
Her words twisted like a knife in his chest. Devoted wife? She might as well have said jailer.
The carriage rolled to a stop after what felt like eons stuck in the carriage with Lady Delphine. Christopher seized the moment, leaping down before the footman could open the door. He strode into the house, his pulse thundering as he scanned the foyer.
Relief poured through him but for a moment at the sight of her—Matilda.
Luggage cases surrounded her. She spoke in hushed tones with his parents and sister, her words steady though her eyes betrayed the storm within her.
"Lady Matilda," Christopher called, his heart clenching as she turned to face him.
Her pleasant smile was a facade, her expression too composed, too polite. She dipped into a curtsy. "Lord Charteris."
"You're leaving?" His words came out more a statement than a question.
"Yes," she replied, as cooly as the marble beneath their feet. "I think it’s time I begin my journey to Lady Genevieve's. She’ll be having her baby soon, and I wish to be there for her. Charlotte will join us in a week or two."
"Have a safe journey, Lady Matilda," Delphine interjected, appearing at his side and slipping her arm through his as if she belonged there. The gesture sent a fresh wave of guilt and rage crashing over him.
"Congratulations again to you both." Matilda's voice was steady, but her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. "I’m certain you’ll be very happy together."
Delphine’s lips curled into a triumphant smile. "I’m certain we shall." She paused, her gaze as sharp as a blade. "Will you attend our wedding, Lady Matilda? We would so like to have our friends there to celebrate."
Matilda leaned down to pick up a small valise, her movements slow and deliberate. "I’m afraid I cannot. The Tyndall estate is a considerable distance from here, and I won’t be able to make such a journey so soon after leaving. But I will be thinking of you both."
A footman entered the foyer and bowed. "Lady Matilda, your carriage is ready. Shall we collect your cases now, my lady?"
"Yes, thank you." She started toward the door, Christopher’s chest tightening as he watched her turn away. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stop her.
"Excuse me," he muttered, untangling himself from Delphine’s grip and following Matilda outside.
He caught up with her just as she was about to enter the carriage. "Matilda, you cannot leave. Do not leave. Let me attempt to rectify this farce."
She froze, one foot on the step, before turning to face him. "Fix what?" she asked, her response laced with disbelief. "How can you fix anything, Christopher? You’ve been secretly engaged to Lady Delphine for years. Whether it was a mistake of youth or not, you owe her your hand."
She stepped into the carriage and sank onto the squabs, her movements graceful even as her composure began to unravel. Her blue eyes, glistening with restrained emotion, met his. "You should be commended for doing the honorable thing. Lady Delphine adores you—it’s clear to everyone—and she will make a good wife. She will try her best to make you happy. There are worse fates."
"Worse fates?" He could not think of any right at this moment. "Matilda, there is no fate worse than the one I now find myself in. Do not leave me. Please."
She gave a soft, humorless laugh, leaning forward to speak through the open window. "But that’s where you’re wrong, my lord. My fate is worse. I will live my life loving a man who married another. The result is the same whether it was out of obligation, duty, or love. You will marry her, and I will become the spinster. A wealthy one, perhaps, but a spinster nonetheless. I would have preferred a life here with you." The vulnerability in her words cut through him like a blade. "I think we could have been happy, Christopher. I know I would have been."
He reached for her hand, gripping her tightly. "I’ll resolve this, Matilda. I promise."
She pulled her hand free, her expression hardening. "Don’t make promises you cannot keep. Your path is set, and so is mine." She leaned back, distant and aloof. "I wish you happiness, Lord Charteris. Be kind to Lady Delphine—she is innocent in all this."
Christopher stepped back as the carriage lurched forward, his hand falling uselessly to his side. He stood frozen a second time in one day, watching the vehicle disappear down the drive, taking Matilda with it.
The emptiness that followed was crushing, a hollow ache that threatened to consume him.
What have I done?
He turned sharply, his jaw tightening with determination. Whatever it took, he would end this farce of an engagement. Delphine’s scheming had cost him the woman he loved.
His steps skidded to a stop on the gravel.
Love?
He took a deep breath, knowing deep within his heart that what he felt for Matilda was true. Was love.
He loved her. No, he adored her and would win her back.
He would not let his youthful folly cost him his future.
Without hesitation, he strode back into the house, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders and the consequences that determination would bring.
No time like the present.