Chapter 21
Charlotte took a deep, shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest as her gaze darted from Henry to William and back again. She could still feel the press of Henry’s lips against hers, the warmth of his touch, the way time had slowed in that perfect, breathtaking moment.
He had kissed her. Henry had kissed her. And then…
This.
William stood rigid on the bank, glaring at both of them, his mouth hanging open in shock.
His rifle was still slung over his shoulder, and his grip on it looked dangerously tight.
His focus narrowed on Henry, sharp and furious.
Charlotte swallowed hard as Henry leapt to his feet and stepped slightly in front of her as though to shield her should William decide to use that gun.
But she knew it would never be her that her brother shot at.
“What on earth is going on?” Miranda called from farther back. “William? What is the matter?”
Charlotte briefly closed her eyes. Darling Miranda must have been so distracted by the plant life that she hadn’t noticed the kiss. When Miranda drew near, Charlotte held up her hand to stay her and slowly got to her feet.
“Put the gun down, William,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady even as her whole body trembled.
“I don’t think I will,” William replied, his voice clipped. “I’m still deciding whether I want to use it.” He didn’t look at Charlotte as he spoke. His eyes were still boring into Henry.
Charlotte’s stomach twisted. She had seen William angry before and knew he could be quick-tempered when provoked, but this was different. This was a cold, sharp, deliberate fury. It terrified her, especially with him gripping that rifle.
Henry took a step toward William, raising his hands as though to placate him. “This isn’t what it looks like, I assure you.”
The words hit her with the force of a slap. Charlotte stared at Henry’s profile, but he wouldn’t look back at her.
It wasn’t what it looked like?
Then what was it?
A mistake? A lapse in judgment?
For her, that kiss had been something she’d dreamed of for longer than she cared to admit, but for Henry it apparently hadn’t meant much at all.
She looked from him to William, and fury scorched through her veins.
She met Miranda’s eyes and noted the confusion there but now wasn’t the time to explain.
William’s eyes darkened at Henry’s words. “Is that so?” His voice dripped with skepticism. “Because to me, Your Grace, it looks an awful lot like you had your hands all over my sister.”
Miranda’s eyes widened. Charlotte’s cheeks burned, and she tried to calm herself, to remember that she didn’t actually want to smack her brother or Henry.
Miranda started forward but Charlotte motioned for her to stop. She didn’t want her friend to be at risk while William was so clearly furious.
“William,” she began, stepping forward to intervene.
“Do not try to defend him, Charlotte,” he interrupted. “How long has this been going on? How long has this rake been taking advantage of you and how far have you allowed him to go?”
Her jaw dropped. Did he honestly believe that they’d been sneaking around behind his back? If so, how could she make him see that nothing had been going on before this? That until today, she hadn’t even dared to believe Henry saw her as anything more than William’s little sister?
But of course he would react this way. If anyone else were to find out what had happened between them today, she would be utterly ruined. Even that cretin Sir Roger would consider her beneath him.
Before she could figure out what on earth to say, another horrible thought occurred to her. “Where are the other gentlemen?” If William was here, then surely the rest of the hunting party were close behind. “Is the hunt coming this way?”
William’s gaze flicked to her, his jaw still tight and the pulse at his temple throbbing.
“Lord Fairweather was feeling ill and decided to return to the house for lunch,” he said.
“I rode back with him and then walked this way to catch up to both of you and the other ladies. And thank the heavens I did, or how much more damage would you have done to my sister’s reputation? ”
Charlotte exhaled roughly. At least the rest of their houseguests were not here to witness this altercation. Things weren’t quite that bad.
“Miranda was present,” she said stiffly. “Nothing would have progressed further.”
William snorted. “Miranda was paying more attention to the flowers than the world around her, as usual.”
Miranda flinched, and Charlotte narrowed her eyes at her brother’s unkind words.
“I meant Charlotte no harm,” Henry said finally, drawing William’s attention back to him. “I would never seek to disgrace her. She turned her ankle. I was escorting her back, accompanied by Miss Sutton. Charlotte needed rest so we sat and… I never intended harm, you must believe me.”
William made a scoffing noise. “Please, Henry. I saw you kissing her. Do me the courtesy of not lying so brazenly to my face.”
Henry sighed and gave a curt nod. “I went too far. We shared a moment, and I could not help myself. The fault is mine, not Charlotte’s.”
Charlotte stiffened. A moment. That was all. As if it had been some fleeting, inconsequential thing. As if it hadn’t set her entire world spinning.
William let out a short, humorless laugh. “A moment? That won’t do. You cannot expect me to forget about this.”
He took a step closer to them both, still gripping his gun. “So, I assume if you’re willing to go around kissing unmarried ladies where anyone could see, then that means you’ve resolved whatever your ‘problems’ concerning matrimony were.”
Henry’s brow creased. “What do you mean?”
“You must be ready to offer Charlotte marriage. Surely you are not such a cad as to think otherwise.”
Charlotte’s breath caught. Marriage? Everything had happened so quickly that she hadn’t fully processed the implications of what had happened. Of course marriage would be the reasonable expectation after being caught in such a way.
But Henry didn’t want to marry—and according to William, there was a deeper reason for this. She looked over at Henry, her confusion rising like a tide.
What problems?
What had actually been keeping him from marriage? And why had William spoken as though he knew something she didn’t?
“No,” Henry said, his face pale.
Any hope she had that Henry might say yes—that he might look at her and see a future—vanished in an instant.
“I haven’t resolved anything. And I cannot—will not—marry Charlotte. I’m sorry.”
He looked horrified at the very thought. As though the idea repulsed him.
Charlotte covered her mouth, tears burning her eyes. So much for his claim to care for her. He would rather see her ruined than marry her.
Something inside her cracked. She had feared rejection before, feared that Henry might not return her feelings. But this was even worse.
He wouldn’t marry her. Not just couldn’t.
Wouldn’t.
What was so wrong with her that it was so utterly impossible? That he could kiss her, but then refuse to marry her when the stakes—for her, at least—were so high?
Any chance of a future began to crumble to dust before her eyes. Before, she had been terrified of being married to someone she disliked. Now, that would be a haven compared to the societal rejection that would follow. William had no intention of keeping this quiet, that was clear.
And Henry…
Henry didn’t want her.
Her throat tightened, and she forced herself to drag in a breath.
Then she lifted her chin, determined not to let them see how much this hurt.
Miranda darted around William and strode to Charlotte.
As soon as she reached her side, she looped their arms together, and Charlotte drew comfort from her friend’s silent support.
“You’re sorry?” William demanded. “What the hell good is that? You kiss my sister, but she isn’t enough for you? You’ve treated her as though she’s no better than a woman from the taverns! Is that how you see us? Are we so far beneath you?”
Charlotte shrank into Miranda, the accusation stinging bitterly, but he was right. William was right.
Henry’s lips thinned. His expression had become opaque, and Charlotte had no idea what he was thinking. “You know it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” Charlotte asked before her brother could respond, finding her voice at last. “Because I must confess that I’m at a loss to understand this treatment from you.
” She straightened her shoulders and stood her ground in spite of her distress, staring directly at him, forcing him to meet her eyes.
Henry ran a hand through his hair, looking suddenly exhausted. “It isn’t you, Charlotte. It’s me. There are things about me that you don’t know. Things I can’t explain.”
She swallowed hard. “Try.”
He hesitated and looked away, but that was answer enough.
She laughed, but it was humorless. “Right. Of course. Because I’m just William’s little sister, aren’t I? No need to explain anything to me. I don’t matter. I was just, what, a dalliance for the moment?” She flung his words back at him.
Henry took a step toward her. “Charlotte, please….”
“Don’t, Your Grace.” She held up a hand, blinking back the sting of her tears. “You’ve made yourself perfectly clear.”
Henry’s jaw clenched. “I’m trying to protect you. There are reasons…”
“But you won’t share them?” she demanded. “You won’t explain?”
“I can’t.”
William, who had been staring at them with a grim expression throughout their exchange, exhaled sharply. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He turned to Charlotte and held out his hand. “Come, Charlotte. I will escort you back to the house while I decide what must be done about this.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her heart was in pieces, her stomach twisted into knots. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?