17. In Which a Gentleman Faces the Question – Ashford House to Ashbourne House, London #2
"And Charlotte? What did you tell her?"
"The same thing. That if this is real, you'll both know it's not just about rescue. And if it's not real—it's better to find out now than after you've built your lives around it."
I stood. "Lucas, I understand you're trying to protect her. But Charlotte isn't a child. She knows her own mind. And if you ask her to prove something she already knows is real, all you're doing is making her doubt herself."
"Maybe she should doubt. Maybe you both should." Lucas's voice was quiet. "Edward, I love you. You're family. You've been family since you were eight years old. But Charlotte is my daughter. And my job is to protect her. Even from family. Even from someone I care about."
"I would never hurt her."
"Not intentionally. But what if Juliet is right? What if this is built on rescue, and it collapses the moment one of you no longer needs saving? Charlotte gets hurt. You get hurt. The family is torn apart. And all because no one asked the difficult questions before it was too late."
I didn't have an answer for that.
Lucas walked to the door. Opened it. "Go home, Edward. Think about what I've said. Think about whether you can prove this is love, not rescue. And when you can—when you're ready to show me that what you and Charlotte have will last—come back. We'll talk again."
"And if I can't prove it?"
"Then I refuse you. And you leave. Go back to the Continent. Let Charlotte find someone else."
The words hit like a blow.
"You'd ask me to leave?"
"If I thought it was best for Charlotte? Yes." Lucas's voice was firm. "Edward, I'm not trying to be cruel. I'm trying to be careful. Because if you and Charlotte build a marriage on rescue and gratitude, it won't last. And when it falls apart, you'll both be devastated."
I walked to the door. Paused.
"I love her, Lucas. Not because she needs me. Not because I need her. Just—because she's Charlotte. And I'm going to prove that to you."
"I hope you do."
I left.
Walked out of Ashbourne House into the London afternoon.
And tried to process what had just happened.
Lucas hadn't said yes. Hadn't said no. He'd said prove it.
Prove that loving Charlotte wasn't just about rescue.
Prove that we'd still love each other when there was nothing to save each other from.
I didn't know how to prove that.
But I had to try.
Because the alternative—leaving, going back to the Continent, letting Charlotte find someone else—was unthinkable.
I went back to Ashford House.
Father was waiting in the library.
"Well?" he asked.
"He wants me to prove it's not just about rescue."
Father raised his eyebrows. "Juliet's concern."
"Yes. She thinks Charlotte and I are rescuing each other. That we're confusing need with love. And Lucas—" I sat down heavily. "Lucas thinks she might be right."
"Are you? Rescuing each other?"
"I don't know. Maybe. But does that make it less real?" I looked at my father. "Can't need and love exist together? Can't I need Charlotte and love her?"
"Of course you can. But Edward—" Father's voice was gentle.
"The question isn't whether you need her now.
It's whether you'll still love her when you don't need her anymore.
When you've worked through your guilt about your mother.
When Charlotte has settled into her life and no longer needs rescuing. Will you still want her then?"
"Yes."
"You sound certain."
"I am. Because I've already tried walking away. Tried being noble. Tried staying away to protect her. All I did was make us both miserable."
"And that's what you'll tell Lucas?"
"I did tell him that. He wants proof. Evidence that this is real. But how do you prove love? How do you prove something that exists in moments and conversations and the way someone makes you feel?"
Father was quiet for a moment. Then: "You prove it by showing him who Charlotte is to you. Not what she does for you. Who she is. And by showing him that you see her. Really see her. Not just someone to rescue, but a person. Complicated. Brilliant. Impossible. All of it."
"And if that's not enough?"
"Then you try again. And again. Until Lucas believes you." Father paused. "But Edward—you also need to ask yourself the question Juliet raised. Honestly. Are you in love with Charlotte? Or are you in love with being needed?"
I sat in silence. Let the question settle.
Was I in love with Charlotte? Or was I in love with rescuing her?
I thought about the churchyard. About her riding forty miles to tell me I wasn't a burden. About the way she'd looked at me and said, “You lived”, like it was simple. Like I deserved to be loved.
I thought about the library at Ashford Hall. About hours of conversation. About the way she challenged me, questioned me, didn't let me hide behind guilt or nobility.
I thought about the Penworth terrace. About kissing her and not caring who saw. About her saying "I want you" and meaning it.
That wasn't about rescue.
That was about Charlotte.
Stubborn, brilliant, impossible Charlotte, who made me want to be better. Not because she needed saving but because she deserved someone brave enough to choose her.
"I love her," I said quietly. "Not because I need to rescue her. Because she's Charlotte. And I'm going to prove that to Lucas."
"Good." Father stood. "Then figure out how. Because Lucas isn't going to accept words. He's going to need to see it."
I nodded.
Spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how to prove something that felt as fundamental as breathing.
How to show Lucas that Charlotte wasn't just someone I needed.
She was someone I wanted.
For who she was. Not what she did for me.
I had to find a way.
Because losing her wasn't an option.