Chapter 7 #2
He raised his eyes to mine. “You never considered me a gentleman before today. So why should I be one now? When I ran after your stolen reticule, or fed you for a week, I was not a gentleman because I wasn’t dressed in the latest fashion, strutting about like a peacock in search of spectators.
It is your prejudice I find so amusing, Charlotte. ”
The way he emphasized my Christian name hardened my resolve not to give this man anything he wanted. He was hateful and disagreeable, and I could not stand him. “My prejudice, as you call it, is a precaution.”
He shook his head. “Think of what you might miss if you overlook so many people. If you assume the worst, you’ll never see the best. Wealth and title are on the surface, easily seen and easily desired.
” His features fell for a brief moment, but the expression was quickly shaken away.
“I assure you, anything you tell me in confidence will remain discreet.”
I held his gaze. “Why do you wish to know so badly?” I repeated my question from outside.
“It is a precaution.” He smirked. “For an acquaintance of mine.”
My heart pounded. “Do explain.”
His eyes bore into mine as he leaned across the table. “It would not be the first time this acquaintance has been pursued for his title and fortune—beautiful ladies coming to steal his heart with no interest in giving him one in return.”
My stomach dropped. Did he suspect my true motive? I swallowed and smoothed one of my curls. I didn’t know if it was a nervous habit or an attempt to look my best under his unwavering gaze. “You assume that is why I have come to this tragic place?” I laughed under my breath. “How ridiculous.”
He studied me carefully, and I managed to hold his eyes. After a moment, the firm line of his mouth softened. “You came from a household of high regard, did you not?”
I nodded, so subtly I wasn’t sure he noticed.
“Did your parents send you here to make a match? Or has your family been faced with a financial burden, so they chose to abandon you to a place where you might cost less to maintain?” His voice had lowered.
I was angry that he was prying into my life and asking so many questions.
But the gentleness in his eyes undid the threads tying my delicate emotions together.
Tears stung behind my eyes. I hoped he couldn’t see them glistening.
I thought my anger would counteract every emotion, but it seemed to only propel me into an even more uncollected state.
A tear fell from my eye. What on earth was wrong with me?
Mr. Wortham reached into his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief. As he extended it to me, a small square of parchment fluttered out of its folds and landed on the desk between us.
He noticed it quickly, a look of panic widening his eyes. Seizing the opportunity, I snatched it and stood from my chair, taking a step back.
He stood too, making the desk shake as he pushed away from it. I clutched the square in one hand. I stared at him. Silence lingered thick between us like a tangible thing.
“Give that to me, please.” His eyes were fixed on the parchment, and I thought I detected a flush to his cheeks. Out of anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.
My heart beat quickly in my chest. I was hesitant to look away from Mr. Wortham, expecting him to rush at me at any moment.
But too curious, I dared to flick my gaze at the parchment I held.
It was distressed at the creases, as if it had been folded and unfolded many times.
Small tears marred the edges like trim. I could see marks of ink showing through, writing evident within.
Why was he so protective of this document?
I smiled inwardly. This could be the thing I had been searching for—a way to gain the upper hand.
I took two steps back and hastily unfolded the square.
He walked around the table, uncollected in a way I had never seen before. “That’s personal,” he grumbled.
But my eyes were already skimming the words on the paper.
I didn’t have time to read the whole thing, but I noticed the handwriting was decidedly masculine, and I caught several words that piqued my interest. ‘yours,’ ‘always,’ ‘heart.’ Mr. Wortham must have written it.
Forgetting my tears, I grinned like a cat after catching an elusive bird.
“A love letter?” I laughed loudly in triumph. “To whom?” I scanned the top, but found that it was addressed vaguely as, My love. I held back another giggle.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Something like that. Now give it back to me. Now.” He took another step forward.
I held the letter behind my back. “Why was it never delivered?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, and I took it as a warning that I should have left the subject untouched. “Would you prefer that I wrestle it from you?” His voice was an eerie calm.
I gasped and raised an eyebrow in reprimand. “You wouldn’t.”
“Do you really believe that?” He moved even closer.
I skirted around him and stood in the doorway, prepared to make an escape if needed. This letter was my only leverage, and I didn’t plan to let it leave my grasp. “Just answer my question.”
He remained silent, jaw tight.
“It is much easier to pry into the business of others, isn’t it?” I said with a grin.
His eyes flashed. “It was never delivered because she married someone else.” He spit out the words as if they were poisoned.
“She married for money. So forgive me, Miss Lyons, if I have suspected the worst of you. When your heart is broken by an act, it’s not one you soon forget, and though I’m not hunted for such a thing as fortune, I can imagine it’s equally painful to be loved for your holdings rather than your heart. ”
I pieced his words together in my mind, trying to make sense of them.
“Are you implying that I’m here to secure Lord Trowbridge?
He was a friend of my father’s and I wish to meet him.
” I knew the lie was pathetic, but I no longer cared.
I had an advantage in my hands now, and I knew precisely how I intended to use it.
Mr. Wortham uncrossed his arms and fixed me with a look of reprimand. “I do hope that is true.”
It took much effort, but I didn’t look away from his intense gaze.
That seemed to be answer enough, because his posture relaxed.
His eyes returned to the letter, and I instinctively gripped it tighter.
“Now, James,” I appreciated the slight roll of his eyes, “I intend to keep this letter. And unless you provide me the information I seek, I will send it to Lucy Abbot and her father, binding you in honor to marry her.” My heart pounded.
He watched me with scrutiny, his stare cold as ice. “You wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“I’m afraid there’s a great deal you don’t know about me.” I repeated his words with a look of triumph.
I turned around and walked out the door, knowing he would follow me. I stepped into the crisp, wet air, and tucked the letter beneath my shawl to keep it from becoming soaked. Turning around, I watched Mr. Wortham trudge toward me, an unforgiving look in his eyes.
I smiled. “I do not seek your good opinion. I am simply doing what needs to be done to receive what I want.”
He approached tentatively. Every line of his face was drawn out in exasperation and irritation.
When he stopped, he was only two feet away.
“You would willingly ruin my life for a few pieces of trivial information?” His eyes seemed to touch my soul, and I knew he was expecting an answer.
I found myself suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze.
Weeks before I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. But something inside of me had begun to change, something I didn’t dare examine for fear of what I might find. There was vulnerability in the answer ‘no,’ so without knowing for certain, I answered what Charlotte from Hampshire would say.
“Of course.”
Mr. Wortham ran a hand over his hair and muttered something I didn’t quite catch.
After standing for several moments in silence, he said, “Very well. Come with me.” He didn’t wait to see if I would follow, but walked up the path without turning his head.
I took the opportunity to slip the letter in my boot unnoticed.
I caught up to him, struggling to keep up with his long strides. We walked in silence for several minutes, until I saw the rooftop of Lord Trowbridge’s home peeking out between the dark clouds.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
James gave me a look out of the corner of his eye that was more glare than glance.
“As it turns out, both your demands come intertwined. You wish to know more about the mysterious Lord Trowbridge, and you are in desperate need of suitable employment. I hoped to know of your past before I recommended you for the job, but it seems I have no choice in the matter now.” Another barbed look was cast my way.
“Lord Trowbridge is seeking a governess for his young daughter, and I am taking you there to meet them.”
I almost stopped walking. A governess? A young daughter? I tried to make sense of those words, but we were drawing closer to the house with each second. Working in the earl’s household while trying to win his heart would be vastly improper. “Should—should you not call before barging on his door?”
Mr. Wortham shook his head swiftly. “I am always welcome.”
I scrunched my forehead in confusion. “How did you come to know him so well?” We were in front of the enormous house now, and Mr. Wortham moved forward, undaunted, up the front steps. I followed, wondering if he had even heard my question.
I was about to ask again, when he rapped his knuckles against the door and answered, “I know him so well, Charlotte, because he is my brother.”