Chapter Nine #2
And that? That was the most dangerous thought of all. Given their history, and her reservations toward him and his family, it might end only in torture for him. Because if he wanted more, if he let himself believe, even for a moment, that she might let him in—
Then there would be no coming back from it.
And then there was that woman.
It was probably nothing.
“Ah,” his mother’s voice carried across the room. “There you are, dear.” He turned his head slightly to see her standing in the doorway, her gaze assessing. “You were out early today.”
“Riding,” was all he said.
His mother arched a brow, gliding into the room. “Ah, riding. You never go riding so early in the mornings. What changed today?”
She changed everything.
The world changed because she loves me.
He swallowed back the words and let out a slow breath instead.
His mother was not easily deceived. She had a mind sharper than most men he knew and an intuition that was even sharper. He would have to tread carefully.
Lowering his hand from his face, he sat up and studied her. “How would you overcome an obstacle in your path?”
She arranged her skirts as she sat across from him and replied without missing a beat. “I would trample on it.”
Adam snorted despite himself. “I can’t do that.”
“Then ignore it.”
“Can’t do that either.”
“Challenge it, then,” she said, her eyes narrowing with interest. “That is your only recourse.”
Challenge it.
That was what he was doing, right? However, he didn’t know if he was going about it the right way or the wrong way. Instead, he was just going with his heart. He didn’t know how else to do it.
His mother was watching him closely, her keen gaze unwavering. “You are troubled.”
“I am not troubled,” Adam muttered. “Merely…” He trailed off, unable to find the right word.
“Vexed?” she offered.
“Not quite vexed, either.”
“Bewildered?”
He huffed a short laugh. She wouldn’t give up. “I suppose that is a bit closer.”
Her lips twitched. “Ah. Then let me guess—there is a woman involved, then. A particular one?”
Adam tensed.
That was answer enough.
His mother’s expression turned knowing. “Who is she?”
“No one.”
“No one has ever made you look like this, my dear.”
He sighed, rubbing his temple. “It is complicated.” Too complicated for words.
Her expression softened, but there was amusement there, too. “Is it not always the case? I have yet to meet an uncomplicated matter when it comes to the two sexes.”
Adam leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “She dislikes me. Strongly. She has reason to.”
His mother tilted her head. “And yet, you do not wish for her to dislike you.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “No.”
“Why?”
The question was deceptively simple.
Adam stared at the patterns on the carpet, his thoughts tangling together like a knotted rope. Yes, why? Because Charlene made him wish to feel like his old self again. Because she also challenged him. Because the thought of walking away from her left a hollow ache in his chest.
Instead of saying any of that, he exhaled sharply and murmured, “Because I’m an idiot.”
His mother chuckled. “That is a given. All men are idiots when it comes to any matters that are not from the head.”
He shot her a dry look. “Who said anything about it being anything but?”
She merely smiled. “No one had to.”
Adam groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “This is why I never speak to you about these things.”
“Oh, my dear, if you did, your life would be infinitely easier.”
“I rather doubt that.”
His mother nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps that is where you must start, Adam. This doubt of yours. What is it that you truly want from this woman?”
The answer should have been simple.
And yet, it was anything but.
He wanted her forgiveness.
And especially her trust.
Most of all, he wanted the chance to see if they could be something more than enemies.
His mother must have read the conflict in his face, because her expression softened. “If you seek to change her heart, Adam, then you must be willing to risk your own in the process.”
He swallowed.
Risk.
He had never been afraid of it before. But this? This felt like a battle he had no armor for.
His mother rose, smoothing out her skirts. “Well, I can introduce you to a lady or two if you wish?”
“Please don’t.”
She chuckled. “Well, perhaps after your duties.”
Suspicion instantly rose. “What do you mean?
She turned toward the door but paused before exiting, glancing back at him. “Why, you need to do the rounds of the family estates.”
Right. He had forgotten about that.
Bloody ducal duty. This almost made it seem like he couldn’t be with the one who was perfect for him because his brother did, in fact, ruin it. Her and Adam’s chances with her.
Except if he could undo that somehow… remedy the situation—avert the crisis?
Adam didn’t want to leave right now. Every nerve in his body resisted the idea. He had finally—finally—moved an inch with Charlene. And now, just when he needed time to think, to strategize, to act—he was being dragged away by obligation.
He let his head fall back against the sofa with a groan.
It wasn’t just a formality. These visits were necessary. His tenants depended on him. There were leases to review, accounts to settle, disputes to mediate, roofs that needed repairing before winter settled in.
But the timing—the timing could not be worse.
His mother watched him struggle, amusement flickering in her eyes. “It won’t take more than a fortnight.”
A fortnight.
Fourteen days away from Charlene.
Away from that sharp tongue and heated gaze. Away from any opportunity to close the impossible distance between them.
He clenched his jaw.
He didn’t have much choice. If he stayed, his mother would hound him relentlessly.
Perhaps this was for the best.
Perhaps distance would bring clarity.
Or perhaps it would drive him mad.
*
Two weeks had passed, and Charlene had not heard a word from Adam.
Not even a note.
Why hadn’t he?
The drawing room at Ashley’s townhouse glowed with a serene charm, soft light spilling from the chandelier.
A subtle honeyed candle scent fused with the earthy bitterness of sealing wax melting on its silver spoon, balancing the faint metallic tang of fresh ink spread in delicate loops across the wedding invitations.
The warmth of the fire crackled faintly behind the three women, its waves of heat brushing against their ankles despite the slight chill carried in from the cooler autumn air.
Charlene sat beside Ashley at the table, smoothing her skirts each time the paper crinkled beneath her hands.
Even the velvet upholstery beneath her, paired with the comforting pops of chatter from Ashley and Maddie, couldn’t halt the restless pacing of her thoughts.
Her hands, usually sure and steady, fumbled as she folded an ivory sheet for yet another pristine envelope.
The fibers of the paper stung after sliding against her fingertips for what must have been the fiftieth time that afternoon.
“Ouch.” The word escaped under her breath, sharp and sudden.
Ashley’s head whipped toward her. “What happened?”
Charlene stuck her fingertip into her mouth instinctively, the sting of the paper cut small but sharp. The taste of salt met her tongue as she winced from the tender ache flaring across the small slice in her skin.
“Is it bleeding?” Maddie peered over from her place on the other side of the table, where she had given up on ribbons in favor of arranging the paper slips into neat stacks. “Should I fetch my apothecary bag?”
“No, not yet,” Charlene murmured, withdrawing her hand from her lips to inspect the thin, faintly red mark trailing across her index finger.
Ashley shook her head with a sympathetic cluck of her tongue as she warmed yet another stick of wax over the flame. “Paper cuts. Nasty hurts, those. Remember when I jabbed myself in the palm folding programs last Yuletide? Awful.”
Her words might have drawn a wry smile on another day, but at that moment, Charlene felt emotion rise unexpectedly, catching her off guard and forging a hot sting in her throat.
She dropped her gaze to the table, her shoulders falling even as her nervous fingers traced the edges of the envelope resting before her.
“What is it, Char?” Maddie teased lightly. “Has it gone deep?”
Her laugh was quick and bright, but it trailed off when Charlene didn’t respond.
Deep, yes. Like cupid’s arrow to her heart.
Ashley had paused mid-movement, her brow furrowing as her friend sat silent, shoulders hunched.
“Charlene.” Ashley’s voice dropped, the warm companionable tone shifting to one of concern. “Surely it doesn’t hurt that badly. By all that’s certain, I’ve seen you give yourself worse cuts in my mother’s greenhouse with those pruning shears.”
It was meant to soothe, to draw out the ghost of humor between Ashley’s words, but Charlene just swallowed hard, her chest tightening as tears unexpectedly slipped over her lower lashes. She turned instinctively toward the window, ashamed of the weakness surging forward so unbidden.
Maddie placed the papers in her hand atop the others, leaning back in her chair to give her full attention. “Char?” Her tone, lighter moments before, softened with the tender prodding of a sister’s patience. “What is the matter?”
Ashley set her wax seal down with a small tap on the wooden table and turned fully in her chair toward Charlene. “It’s him, isn’t it?” Maddie’s sharp gaze flicked to Ashley. “It’s the duke.”
At this, Charlene stiffened, her throat closing further under the weight of their attention.
She shook her head, though her hands had grown as cold and bloodless as the paper they rested on.
“It’s nothing,” she murmured. “Nothing at all.” Her gaze dropped to her hand. No blood. That, at least, was lucky.
“That doesn’t seem like nothing.” Maddie’s expertise in wheedling wore patience like a well-tailored sash. She folded her hands in her lap and tucked one slipper under her chair, an image of innocence gilded by determination. “Whatever it is you’re holding in, it won’t give you rest to sit in it.”
“And if it’s about him…” Ashley’s voice braced, rich with the tone of a loyal knight unsheathing her sword. “If something has happened, say the word and I’ll see to it.”
The warmth of their support, though well-meaning, only threatened to shatter her already fragile resolve. Charlene straightened her shoulders, seeking composure as her trembling fingers brushed back an unruly curl behind her ear. “He hasn’t sent word,” she admitted quietly. “Not once.”
Maddie tilted her head as Ashley’s eyebrows rose indignantly. “Why,” Maddie asked pointedly, “should he send word? Have you done anything?”
A faint blush rose up Charlene’s neck. Before she could respond, Maddie’s eyebrows shot upward in realization. “You did, didn’t you?” Her tone carried an elegance laced with jest, tempered only slightly by her affection. “Did something, I mean.”
“Oh, Char,” Ashley said, placing her seal aside to focus entirely on Charlene. “What have you done now?” She frowned, then added in a softer voice, “You know we are your friends, dear. If you must unburden yourself…”
“Or,” Maddie cut in with a teasing grin, “who?”
“Maddie!” Ashley swatted her arm, shooting her an almost real glare behind the red creeping along her cheeks. “Honestly.”
“It’s not funny,” Ashley said sharply. “The city thrives on gossip worse than dogs to a bone. The M-Press already threatens fire for the Cross brothers alone. Adding you to that would fuel an inferno.”
“What gossip?” Charlene interjected, gripping the arms of her seat as her pulse quickened.
Ashley hesitated, her lips pursed under Charlene’s urgent stare. “Rumors,” she admitted cautiously. “A Cross brother in Green Park. Masquerade dances are more scandalous than secretive. Pall Mall carriages sweeping blinding beauties…”
“Stop,” Charlene whispered, her voice low but heavy. Her chest tightened to bursting under the weight of a question begged first softly, then roaring angrily within her rib cage. Something about those rumors set her shoulders tight and her palms cold.
Ashley’s next words came faintly to Charlene, muffled as though through a fog. She caught fragments of her friend’s voice, scattered and broken. “Some unknown woman… Said to be quite beautiful… That hat of hers, it’s become infamous now, if whispers are to be believed.”
The warmth of the room seemed to recede abruptly, her senses clouded by the icy grip of fear clutching at her chest. Maddie laughed lightly, a sound meant to tease, but it cut sharper than Charlene expected. Each note seemed like a soft chisel against her composure.
“Charlene…” Maddie’s voice was less distinct now, though her persistence prickled like a persistent drop of rain sliding down the back of her neck.
Charlene’s hands trembled as she pushed the curling edge of a ribbon aimlessly across the table. Her knuckles brushed against waxy drips hardened like tiny monuments of productivity, but her mind was far from the present. The possibilities surged in her thoughts, all unwelcome and none clear.
Her throat tightened as she lowered her gaze to the ribbon, willing herself not to break. Could it be true? Her pulse quickened at the thought, her worry blooming into an ache more cutting than any paper’s edge.
Had Adam replaced her so easily? Had all those years of longing, of quiet patience, meant nothing to him after all? It couldn’t be and yet, why had he vanished after that morning at the park?