Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
The morning was bright, but a gloom lingered over Nathaniel’s heart. His movements were stilted, his muscles leaden. Every step was a lurch, and his breakfast had tasted bland. Even Brutus and Hector’s antics had not been enough to amuse him.
It was almost as if he were in mourning.
He longed to take Bastion for a ride, but that would have to wait.
Duty required him to see the Hartley family off.
A wry smile crossed his face. Duty had been an anchor, a compass to guide his actions, but now it seemed like a brutal weapon that was slashing his heart to ribbons. He possessed no defense against it.
A nearby clock chimed.
It was time—time to say farewell to the woman who would always haunt him.
Everyone else was already there. Clara was practically in tears, hugging Charlotte tightly. For once, he felt exactly as Clara did, but of course, he could not display his emotions so openly.
“…and you must come to our estate once I return. We shall host you and have a splendid time,” Agatha said, kissing Beatrice on both cheeks.
“Yes, we must. We shall be seeing a lot of each other in the future,” Beatrice replied. Agatha beamed.
“Well, Your Grace, it all comes to an end. Thank you for your hospitality, and as my grandmother suggested, our estate is always open to you. There will always be a bottle of port waiting,” Edmund said with a half-smile, thrusting out his hand.
Nathaniel took it and nodded his head in response. After what Charlotte revealed about her parents, he studied Edmund a little more closely than before. There was something hidden in his eyes, and Nathaniel wondered if he had judged Edmund too harshly.
Charlotte and Lydia came to bid farewell too. They both curtsied before him. His throat felt swollen. Unspoken words lodged in his mouth, but what was the use now? It was far too late.
His gaze lingered on Charlotte, watching as she disappeared into the carriage.
The last thing he saw was the hem of her gown sweeping out of sight.
He committed it to memory, along with her smile, her laugh, her kiss.
He would never experience these things again, but he was not willing to forget them.
Edmund was the last to enter the carriage. He spent a long time speaking to Alfred and Mary before finally bidding his last farewell. The carriage door closed and began to trundle across the courtyard, creaking and swaying, disappearing between the gates.
Nathaniel blinked slowly, unused to the stinging tears that appeared. He quickly excused himself and returned to the house.
He heard footsteps following him.
“I thought you were going to stop her,” Mary said. Clara was beside her. Alfred and Beatrice were just a few steps behind.
“To whom do you refer?” Nathaniel replied in a dry, broken tone.
“I am your sister now, Your Grace. There’s no need to be coy with me. I can tell that you are in love. It takes one who knows love to recognize it in others.”
“Preposterous,” Nathaniel forced a laugh, but it lacked the ring of truth.
“What is this talk?” Beatrice asked, concern and confusion dancing across her face.
“I think perhaps we should leave, Mother,” Alfred said, attempting to pull Beatrice away. However, Beatrice dug her heels into the floor and remained unmoved.
“I would like to know who is in love with whom,” Beatrice demanded.
“Nobody, Mother. This is all just a big misunderstanding.” Nathaniel then turned back to Mary. “Charlotte doesn’t love me. She loves her research. She hopes to honor her parents, which is a sentiment I can respect. She has chosen her path in life. It is a solitary one.”
“Charlotte… love?” Beatrice stammered, flabbergasted by Nathaniel’s comment.
“Charlotte claims to know her own mind, but she doesn’t always know what’s best for her,” Mary replied, an imploring look in her eyes.
Nathaniel’s cheeks began to turn crimson as his personal affairs were being shared.
He was about to turn away and seek out Bastion, but Clara spoke before he had a chance to.
“She does love you. Lydia is sure of it, and Lydia knows all about love. She has read all the stories. And Charlotte sometimes goes red when she speaks about you. And she was looking at you a lot, especially at the wedding. But she’s going far away anyway.”
“The Stonewood estate is not that far; perhaps we should arrange a visit sooner rather than later,” Alfred suggested.
Mary turned to him.
“Charlotte isn’t staying in Stonewood. She’s visiting the north with Grandmother.”
“What? For how long?” Nathaniel asked, a sudden panic rising within.
“Why should any of this matter at all? It doesn’t matter if Lady Charlotte has feelings for Nathaniel. She’s hardly the type to be a duchess. And I am tired of women who shirk the idea of marriage.” Beatrice looked aghast at her son.
Nathaniel was already moving. Mary, Alfred, Lydia, and Clara were all saying the same thing. It didn’t seem possible for them all to be wrong. And it was one thing for Charlotte to return home, but quite another for her to venture up north.
What if she never came back?
What if this was his only chance?
He was about to step over the threshold of the door when Beatrice’s voice made him stop.
“Nathaniel,” she said sharply, in the same tone she used when he had been a child. He stopped and turned. She marched up to him. “What do you think you are doing?”
Beatrice’s eyes were cold and harsh. For all the joy she felt at Alfred and Mary’s union, she still had a strict, demanding streak that could not be ignored.
“I am going after Charlotte,” he said.
Beatrice adopted a haughty expression. Nathaniel felt torn again. Every moment he spent with his mother allowed Charlotte to get a little farther away.
“Lady Charlotte,” Beatrice emphasized her proper title, “has left our premises. There is no need for you to chase after her. I can’t think of a single reason why you should wish to do anything so reckless. It is quite out of character for you.”
“There is a reason, a very important one. I love her.” He paused before he uttered these three words. When they left his mouth, he could feel his soul soaring. The freedom was intoxicating. He felt as though he could breathe again.
Clara let out a cry of delight. Mary and Alfred leaned into each other and smiled.
Beatrice remained confused.
“Love? What has love got to do with any of this?” she asked indignantly.
“Everything, Mother. I intend to ask her to marry me.”
“You shall do no such thing. She is not suited to be a duchess.”
“But she is suited to be my wife. I cannot think of anyone else in the world I would want to stand beside me.”
“But you can’t… She is outspoken, disrespectful of traditions, and willful.”
A dreamy look drifted across Nathaniel’s eyes.
“Yes, and she is many more things besides,” he replied, finally accepting that the things he used to see as flaws were actually attractive qualities.
Beatrice looked utterly mortified.
“But think of the family. Nathaniel, you have a duty to us, to our history. Do you really think she is the one who can uphold our standards?”
“I think perhaps this family needs new standards. Alfred has shown me the way. We should not feel obliged to put our personal desires aside for duty. It strangles me, Mother. It will only give me a living death if I cannot marry Charlotte. The only duty I care about now is the one to my heart.”
With that, he marched out of the house. Beatrice continued calling his name, but he did not stop. He broke into a run and reached the stables. He pulled Bastion out and mounted him before setting off at a gallop, hoping to close the distance between himself and Charlotte.
If you love me, then let me love you, Charlotte. Everything else be damned.