Chapter 22
Henry took an urgent step in the direction Charlotte had fled, his heart hammering wildly as her words rang in his ears, but William’s firm grip landed on his shoulder, halting him in place.
“Let her go,” William growled. “She needs to be alone right now. Forcing her to speak of her feelings will only push her further away. I’ve learnt this about my sister over the years… and you seem to know her well enough that you should realize this.”
Henry cursed sharply under his breath at both William’s words and the implication in them. He ran a hand roughly through his thick, dark hair, frustration gnawing at him as he paced restlessly across the manicured lawn.
“Damn it, William, I never intended any of this,” he rasped, though his anger was directed at himself rather than his friend.
What had he been thinking?
He should never have kissed Charlotte, knowing he couldn’t marry her. No matter how much he might want to.
William’s piercing eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching visibly, anger emanating from every rigid line of his posture.
“Perhaps,” he began icily, “you shouldn’t have been kissing her, then.
You are hardly short of female attention.
Do you need to turn your attentions to my sister?
You’ve known her since she was a child.”
Henry stopped pacing and spun sharply to face his friend, his dark eyes blazing. “But Charlotte is no longer a child. She is a woman—a grown woman who deserves to be respected and treated as such.”
William’s expression darkened further, a sardonic edge curving his lips.
It bothered Henry to see the sudden contempt on his friend’s face.
“Oh, I am well aware of how grown she is. But you, Henry—you’ve been treating her far too much like a grown woman already and certainly not in a manner befitting an unmarried lady. ”
Henry’s gut twisted, the guilt making it difficult to breathe. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t think.”
William set down the gun and shoved him. “Perhaps that’s the problem. You should have thought.”
Henry staggered backward before catching himself.
There was a pause as the two men glared at each other, then, just like he had when they were scrapping as boys, William charged Henry, grabbing him around the waist and grappling him to the ground.
Henry was still stronger than William though, and he caught him in a headlock, but William kicked out, causing Henry to bellow with pain as his boot caught Henry’s shin.
“Is this really necessary?” Henry panted.
William elbowed him in the ribs, but Henry grabbed him again until they were tussling on the ground.
“You ruined my sister!” William shouted, rolling him onto his back. William’s rifle lay discarded on the ground next to them, but neither man made any attempt to reach for it as they tumbled across the grass.
“I didn’t mean to!” Henry yelled as he hooked the other man to the ground when he tried to stand.
“I’m getting sick of hearing that,” William snarled, twisting Henry’s ear.
They fought for a while longer, neither doing serious damage to the other. Eventually, they sprawled side by side on the damp ground, breathing raggedly.
It was Henry who spoke first, breaking the heavy silence that settled between them.
His voice was softer now, tinged with genuine remorse.
“I’m sorry, William. Truly.” Henry’s eyes fixed on the cloud-filled sky above.
He hated that they’d fallen so far. “I swear on my honor, I never intended to compromise Charlotte. I honestly just intended to walk her back to the house after she was injured. But I can’t deny what I feel for her.
It was never meant to happen this way, but the kiss—I couldn’t help it. I love her.”
William was silent for a long moment, catching his breath. He rolled over to study Henry’s face and slowly his expression softened. “You do, don’t you?”
Henry nodded, surprised by the admission.
Now he’d said it out loud, he knew it wasn’t just undeniably true but had been for some time.
“More deeply than you could possibly imagine. And were it not for the secrets I carry and my obligations toward my family name—these cursed obligations and dark truths—I would ask for Charlotte’s hand without hesitation.
She deserves nothing less from me, but I can’t give her that, which is why I am deeply sorry I kissed her as I did. I should have had more self-control.”
“Can your secret be so important that you would break my sister’s heart?” William asked.
Henry shook his head wretchedly. “She wouldn’t wish to marry me if she knew.”
William pushed himself into a sitting position, brushing grass and dirt absently from his clothing, a thoughtful expression settling across his features.
“Have you considered that it may be finally time to face this secret that holds you back? It cannot be anything so bad. I know you. Whatever it is, it can’t be any wrong that you’ve done.
Why don’t you be honest with her and see what she wants?
Give her the option, at least? You owe that much to her and to yourself. ”
Henry sat up beside him, fatigue weighing heavy on his soul. “I cannot subject Charlotte to that. She would ruin herself out of love for me.”
William shook his head, his disappointment plain. “Then you must keep away from her. At all times. I will keep quiet about what has happened here today, but you must leave her be if you would not hurt her further.”
Henry nodded even as the thought of never seeing Charlotte again threatened to tear him in two.
William laid a hand on his shoulder. “Can you not confide in me? It may not be so bad as you fear. Perhaps together we can find a way around it. Or I can help you bear your burden at least.”
Henry rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled roughly.
He should never have let things come to this.
“Perhaps. Let me think on it for this evening. Certainly, I could do with an ally while I still have this unknown blackmailer to deal with.” He met William’s eyes.
“Thank you. I don’t deserve your friendship after what I’ve done. ”
William reached out a hand and helped him to his feet.
“Forgive me too. I should never have insinuated anything further had occurred between you and Charlotte. It’s only—” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
“If you truly have no intention of marrying, you must keep your distance, as I’ve said.
Her heart is tender enough without you inadvertently encouraging feelings that will only cause her deeper pain.
If you cannot own this secret to her, you must go away for a while so she can heal. ”
Heaviness settled in Henry’s chest, along with a sinking sensation he could not shake, for he knew William was right. “You speak the truth.”
Perhaps some time on the Continent was needed, away from the situation he had created. Maybe that would rid him of this blackmailer. But could he actually physically leave the woman he loved? Was he capable of making himself do so?
As they began the slow walk back toward the house, William glanced sideways. “Will you never tell me what is it exactly that holds you back?”
Henry paused, considering his reply. “Give me time.”
William stopped briefly, turning fully to face his friend. “Henry, you have always been my closest friend, more akin to a brother. You know any secret you entrust to me would never be betrayed.”
“I do know,” Henry admitted, his throat tight. “But the habit of secrecy runs deep, drilled into me since boyhood. It’s not easily undone.”
William offered an understanding nod, pressing the matter no further.
In silence, they continued toward the house, the large stone facade soon coming into view, imposing yet familiar.
He could lose all of this if his true origins came out, but for once, he didn’t care.
He was tired of bearing such a grave responsibility.
As they reached the drive, Lady Fitzgerald appeared at the entrance, concern etched deeply into her features.
“William, do you have any idea what’s wrong with Charlotte?
She is demanding to leave and acting most unlike herself.
I have never heard such defiance from her.
She is quite overwrought. Do you think she is ill? ”
Henry’s stomach twisted painfully, guilt and fear entwining. The thought of Charlotte departing before he had the chance to speak with her again sent panic surging through him even as he knew he should keep his distance. He just… hated the thought that he had driven her away.
William gave his mother a reassuring smile, though Henry recognized the worry behind it.
“I’m sure it’s nothing serious, Mother. According to Henry, she turned her ankle and is perhaps in some pain, but I’m assured it was a tumble, nothing more.
I think this is all just too overwhelming for her.
You know what she’s like. Perhaps it would be best to take her home. ”
Lady Fitzgerald’s brow remained furrowed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied her son, her skepticism evident. “Very well, but I must see that Charlotte is not having some kind of turn. She was terribly upset, and I would not like to offend Her Grace by leaving early.”
Henry bowed to her, which gave him the opportunity to hide his face.
He felt sure that Charlotte’s mother would read his guilt written all over it.
“Not at all, my lady. I will speak to my mother. There will be no offence if Charlotte wishes to leave. Indeed,” he said as he straightened.
“I am becoming quite tired of the whole affair myself.”
He left William to deal with his now bewildered mother and took the stairs to his rooms, reflecting on his last words to Lady Fitzgerald.
He really had had enough. This whole affair was draining him and setting his teeth on edge.
He wanted his guests to go so he could deal with whatever conflict awaited and plan his trip abroad.
As well as nurse his broken heart.
He went to his mother’s room, where he found her perusing her gowns, no doubt deciding what to wear for tonight’s dinner.
“Henry! Why are you not with the ladies at the folly? You must make yourself agreeable, or all my efforts will have been for nothing.”
Anger flared within him, hot and unexpected. “Your efforts? Your efforts are precisely why I’m in this impossible position. If not for your choices, I could have had a chance at happiness without endangering someone I care about!”
She stiffened, her eyes narrowing in shock and displeasure. “How dare you speak to me in this manner—”
“I dare because it is the truth,” he interrupted fiercely. “Understand this: I have no intention of marrying any of those women.”
“Henry!”
“No, Mother,” he said, his tone firm. “I am done with this charade. No matter how much you beg and plead, I will not marry. I will not carry this secret on any further for another generation to deal with. I will hear no more on the matter.”
Before she could reply, he turned abruptly and walked out of her room.