Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
“Love looks not with the eyes.”
Ijerked back, nearly tripping on a cobblestone.
“Charlotte.” James stopped walking. A smile melted over his face.
“Ja—er—Mr. Wortham.” I swallowed hard, my eyes shifting to the pair of servants passing to my right.
“Where, may I ask, is your chaperone?” James asked with a raised eyebrow.
I lifted my chin slightly. “That is none of your concern.”
He seemed amused by that, dipping his chin beneath his collar. Was he smiling under there? I couldn’t quite tell. His eyes lifted to mine.
I ran through my list in my mind. Never admire the color of his eyes. My gaze flickered to his face. One, two, three. I looked away.
Never look at his face for more than three seconds.
I cleared my throat. “What brings you here?” I tried to brush a strand of hair from my eyes but there was nothing there. My hand dropped awkwardly to my side.
He looked confused—and somewhat entertained—by my behavior. His expression smoothed over and he smiled. “I came to oversee my men, but I am pleasantly surprised to have found you instead.”
My cheeks tingled with heat against my will. Do not let him make me blush. Blast it all. I had already broken three of my rules in a matter of seconds.
He stepped forward and offered me his arm. “Are you on your way home? I ought to walk you there since your chaperone appears to have vanished.”
I tentatively took his arm, grateful he had offered me the side of my undamaged hand. I kept my gaze forward and my expression neutral. “We ought to be careful of gossip. People may think it odd that we are walking together like this.”
“Why would I ever object to being seen with a lady on my arm?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Especially one so lovely.” I tried my very hardest not to visibly react, but I still avoided looking at his face.
We walked slowly, in no hurry and bound for no specific direction.
I didn’t speak for at least a full minute, and the only noises I heard were the sounds of people as they rushed past—small segments of conversations that didn’t make sense, a cool breeze ruffling my hair, costermongers shouting, and in the distance, those blasted fishing traps being hauled out of the water, scraping against the sand.
“You are quiet today,” James said. “Is something amiss?”
I gave myself three seconds to look at his expression. He was still smiling, but he also looked confused.
“Nothing is amiss.”
I felt his gaze on the side of my face. “You are acting rather cold.”
“I am not acting any colder than you acted before leaving Clearfield House a fortnight ago.” My voice was clipped and hard. I hadn’t meant to sound so hurt, but I was.
I heard him release a slow breath. “I had forgotten the time.”
“No. You simply wanted to escape me.” My eyes flicked to his. “Why?”
“That is not true.” He stopped walking near the doors of a milliner’s shop. “Not in the slightest.”
I released my hold on his elbow and turned to face him. “You stopped calling upon me.”
“Because I thought you didn’t want me to.”
I looked down at the cobblestones. “I never said that.”
He crossed his arms in front of him. “I have other responsibilities here I can’t abandon. Surely you understand. I need to make a living somehow, Charlotte, modest as it is.”
“And you didn’t care to see me these past weeks because you have paid me enough favors?”
James shook his head. “I didn’t mean that. I just—”
“Mr. Watkins removed the stitches from my hand,” I said abruptly. “Would you like to see it? Perhaps the sight will keep you away longer this time.” I spit the words out, tugging at my glove.
“Charlotte. Charlotte, stop—” James reached out just as I pulled the glove away from my hand.
He touched it softly. My heart quickened at the gentleness of his fingers and even his eyes as he took in the sight of my mangled hand.
Just when I thought he would drop it in disgust, he took it in both of his, turning it over.
He slid his thumb gently over the back of my hand, over the healing cuts and pink skin.
His gaze lifted to mine, but he still didn’t let go.
“I did not leave you that day because of this. I promise you that. Please, don’t be ashamed. ”
I couldn’t find the strength to pull my hand away. “I have everything to be ashamed of. The place I live, the cruel person I am.” I turned my gaze to the ground and tightened my jaw against an onslaught of emotion. “I hate it. My deformed hand is only another thing I cannot escape.”
James was quiet for a long moment before speaking in a soft voice, “I saw what you did today for that young child. That was not the deed of a cruel person.”
My eyes flew up to his.
He looked down at me, all sincerity and kindness, and it made my heart skip.
“If you must be ashamed of the person you once were, then bury her. Start again, here, in this dreaded place of yours, and you can forget your shame.” He looked at my hand in his, and I followed his gaze, watching for any clues that he was disgusted by it too, but saw nothing.
“I am sorry this happened to you, but I hope you will allow it make you stronger. You were determined enough to try to pull in those traps by yourself, and you were determined enough to reclaim music when you nearly abandoned it. Now be determined enough to love your flaws as much as your beauty. And be determined enough to approach the flaws you are capable of changing, and do it. Be a person you can love.”
The power of his words settled deep inside me and I clung to them with a tight and desperate grip. “I fear I am not capable of that.” I lowered my hand and replaced my glove.
“You have changed so much already.”
“No, I mean I am not capable of love.” I looked away from the intensity of his eyes and took a step away from him.
“Hate is too heavy a burden to carry, Charlotte. Leave it behind you.”
I gave a shaky smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “I suppose I will just settle for something in between, then.” My reference to our previous joke brought a smile to his face too, but it was dull and lifeless compared to the way he usually smiled.
Be a person you can love. His words echoed in my mind.
Throughout my life, I had often wondered if anyone in the world loved me.
Perhaps I had pushed away the idea not because I didn’t want it, but because I wanted it so badly.
I had held myself to a high standard, one that if I did not meet meant I was not deserving of love or respect.
My heart had been bruised with every failure, and I had been the one inflicting those wounds.
“Try to be happy here,” James said, breaking through my thoughts. “Despite everything.” He looked at me through sincere eyes, and I realized that I had been staring at his face for far too long. I quickly moved my gaze to the ground.
He was about to say something more, but I spoke first, without thinking. “I wish to repay you for helping me play the pianoforte.”
His eyebrow twitched and he was smiling again. “And how would you do that?”
He was so close. I could smell the fresh sea air on him, the masculine scent I couldn’t describe, and something that reminded me of home—rolling hills and bright sunshine, although there were none to be found here.
His eyes were locked on mine, there was a faint line of stubble on his jaw, his lips were quirked in a smile, and for the first time I noticed the creases in his cheeks that begged to be called dimples.
My gaze locked on his smile, and I had to shake myself to look away.
I took a deep breath and recited my rules in my head.
Never think about kissing him. Never. Never. Never.
But it was nearly impossible to obey when he was standing so close to me and smiling in that way.
The only way to focus was to step away, and once I did, I could finally speak again.
“I wish to tell you why I came here. The truth. But in exchange, I want you to tell me about the woman who broke your heart.”
“If I must tell you something in exchange, then how are you repaying me?” He chuckled.
“Fine. We’ll call it a trade.”
He stared at me for a long moment. I waited, half-expecting him to refuse, but finally he nodded. “Very well. I know the perfect place for a proper tête-à-tête.” A faint smile touched his lips. He pulled off his coat and draped it over my shoulders before I could refuse.
“Where are we going?” I asked, taking his arm hesitantly.
He didn’t answer at first, casting me a sidelong glance. “I’m afraid that’s a secret.”
My stomach filled with dread as we walked to the unknown destination James had in mind. I scolded myself silently for breaking all but one of my rules, then realized my last rule was about to be broken. Never spend time alone with him.
My heart beat frantically, knowing the danger it was in.
James Wortham was quite capable of stealing it, and I feared I lacked the strength to keep it any longer.
I swallowed my worries and walked with him, reminding myself, in a last effort, to keep every other rule I had made.
If it was necessary that I be alone with him, then so be it.
I leaned closer to James as the cold breeze chilled me to the bone. Snow had begun to fall, mingling with the wind. We were past the busy streets of town and on the same narrow path that led toward Brackenridge Hall. But today it was empty.
With my cloak wrapped tightly around me, I was unable to catch myself when I slipped on a thick patch of ice.
I let out a small screech and fell to the ground, arms pinned at my sides. I stopped my head from hitting the ground, but my back hit hard, knocking the air from my lungs. I squeezed my eyes shut. My cheeks burned despite the cold.