Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
“Pray you now,
forget and forgive.”
***
Never look at his face for more than two seconds.
Never let him see how he affects you.
Never smile at him.
Never stray from a business-like demeanor.
Never let him touch my hand or face or arm.
Never agree with him.
Never forgive him.
Iadded these few points to my list before leaving for the village.
It was important that I had all my rules in order.
This meeting with James was nothing but a brief business exchange.
Clara deserved to be happy, and I would not allow anyone to stop that from happening. Especially not James Wortham.
With nervous feet, I walked all the way to the village.
The snow had been falling lightly when I left our cottage, but as I continued down the path, the wind blew harder and large flakes of snow hit my face, leaving me numb and red.
I pulled up the hood of my cloak and kept my head down until I reached the market area of the town.
Hardly anyone was out, so I rotated the other direction and started toward James’s house.
I kept my head down and the snow out of my eyes, recalling the route to his house without looking up to find landmarks. After several minutes, I spotted it and rushed to the doorstep, cold enough to care very little about the awkwardness of the situation and the confrontation I was about to make.
I knocked hard three times and waited. The faint sound of footsteps reached my ears and the door opened abruptly.
James’s features lifted in a mixture of surprise and concern, but he soon recovered and ushered me inside. He forced the door closed behind him, locking the freezing air and snow where it could no longer touch me.
“Charlotte?” His brow furrowed in exasperation. “Do you wish to become ill?”
“No.” My voice was weak. I shivered.
“Come sit by the fire.” He gestured to the sitting room.
I walked ahead and he followed, pulling two chairs close to the hearth.
Awkward silence filled the air between us as he sat down and crossed his arms. “What the devil were you doing out in a storm like that? And alone?” His voice was calm, but his eyes were hotter than the fire. “It’s dangerous.”
“I needed to see you—to speak with you.” My voice was much too quick.
A flash of concern crossed his expression. “It must be quite urgent.”
I took a deep breath and gave him the sternest look I could manage. “Why have you turned your brother against Clara?”
He didn’t deny it, but leaned forward in his chair, so close that I could see the flecks of grey in his eyes. “I care about my brother, and I don’t want him to be hurt.”
I crossed my arms. “To separate the two of them surely is hurting him. Do you understand how it’s breaking my sister’s heart? She is not trying to win his fortune or title. She loves him. You are not protecting your brother by keeping him from her. If he loves her in return, then let him.”
“Perhaps I’m protecting him from precisely that.” His voice was throaty and full of doubt. “He loved his wife once, and he lost her. It is better to not love at all than to experience the pain that always follows. It isn’t worth it.”
I was even more angry now. “So you knew he loved Clara, and that she loved him…and still you turned him against her?”
He shook his head. “All I did was tell him the truth about why you came here. He has chosen to distance himself.”
“But they will be happy together! Clara has never wanted anything more. When love is true and good, doesn’t it bring happiness?”
James’s gaze was heavy. “Perhaps, but I have never seen it.”
I paused, letting the silence and power of his words settle. My heart beat loudly, and the anger boiling in my veins fell to a simmer. “Nor have I.”
My gaze locked on his and my heart threatened to burst. The flames from the fireplace reflected dancing shadows on his face. The air between us was taut with misunderstanding and heartbreak—desperation to understand…something. I breathed in slowly, drawing closer to him against my will.
James’s eyes flickered over my face one more time. He ran his hand over his hair with a sigh. “If you are certain that her feelings are genuine, then encourage your sister to prove it to him. Change his mind.”
“How might she do that?” I scowled.
“That is for her to decide. There are a number of things she could do to show him she loves him. And if my brother truly loves her, he will stop at nothing to win her back.”
Clara would know what to do, but if James had thoughts on the subject, I wanted to hear them. “Do you have any ideas?”
He focused on my face again, and I felt my heart pound harder. How could he affect me with something so simple as a look? Never let him see how he affects you. I lifted my chin and looked him right in the eyes, willing myself to look confident.
“Ideas?” he asked in a quiet voice.
I swallowed. “Of how to show someone they are loved.”
“That depends on the circumstances. Clara would not do the same things that I would do.”
“Well, what would you do?” I was straying far from the root of my inquiry, but I was suddenly far more curious about what James would do to show his feelings than what my sister would do. She was predictable and romantic, but James was a complete mystery.
He was silent for several seconds. “I believe love is found in the small moments—in ways that are constant and repeated often. If I loved you, for instance…” Without warning he reached forward and took my hand in his.
Unfortunately I had forgotten my gloves at home, and he had chosen my ugly hand.
I cringed through my beating heart and told my hand not to shake. How could he bear to touch it?
“…I would hold your hand, like this, whenever you sat beside me, or whenever you needed comfort.” He was so gentle, so careful, as he held my hand where it fit so perfectly in his.
His thumb traced the scars with the softness of a feather.
When I looked at his eyes, the softness there was more intense than before, burning deep inside my chest. “I would share with you everything I have, every wish, every dream, every secret. Every hour and every kiss.” He was still holding my hand, but I refused to look at his face again, so I just stared at our hands, where there wasn’t a set of green eyes saying things I didn’t understand.
“I would write you notes to convey the things that are hard to speak aloud. I would tell you how I adore you, and how my heart is yours. I would keep you close and protect you. I would try every day to whisk away your sorrow, and lighten your burdens. And I would remind you how much I love you if ever you doubted it. I would keep your heart very safe, if I was ever allowed to have it.” I heard him draw a breath, slow and heavy. “If I loved you.”
I took a brief glance at his face, trying desperately to hide the blush on my own. I was surprised to see the heartache flickering in his eyes, the muscle clenching in his jaw as he released my hand.
He managed to bring up a smile, to excuse every word for something less than they had really been.
But there was something alive and real buzzing between us and I wanted it.
His words rang in my head like a chant, If I loved you.
He didn’t love me. The things he had said had been merely hypothetical, nothing meant for my ears or my heart.
“That sounds like a great deal of effort,” I said, trying to smile back. My voice shook. “It’s a fortunate thing that you don’t love me then.”
His expression faltered, and I saw in his eyes one more secret, one I knew he never intended to tell.
I couldn’t decipher what it meant. I wanted to know it.
I wanted to know everything about him, in fact.
I wanted everything he had said he would do if he loved me.
My heart ached as I realized it could never be mine.
He could never be mine.
This was not my place; this was not where I belonged. Mama expected better from me, and so did I. There was no time for ridiculousness and false hopes. Besides, James had deserted love and I had forsaken it.
His jaw clenched again and he looked down at the floor. “But if Clara does love my brother and not his title and money, then she must find a way to prove it to him.”
I nodded and stood up, eager to escape the uncertainty in this room and in James’s eyes. I had accomplished what I came here to do. Almost. “Will you speak with him at least? Help convince him how perfect a match he and Clara are?”
James looked up wearily, smiling. “What a romantic you have become. I never would’ve expected it.”
I put a hand on my hip. “It is not for me, but for the sake of my sister.”
“Contradictory, to be sure.”
I frowned. “Kind.”
“Hypocritical.”
“Thoughtful!”
He grinned with amusement. “Nothing short of ridiculous.”
“I did not come here to be mocked.” I lifted my chin and stepped farther away from him. “I came here to help my sister, regardless of how it might make me appear. Now, I thank you for your time, but I must be going. Good day.”
I showed myself to the door and walked out into the snow. The storm had calmed considerably, but I still shivered, pulling my wet shawl back around my shoulders.
“Charlotte.” James’s voice came from behind, and I turned to see him jogging in my direction. My heart leaped.
“I can’t allow you to walk home alone.” He caught his breath, dark brows drawn together in a scowl. “It’s not safe.”
“Well, I can’t allow you to accompany me. It’s not proper.” I whirled around fast.
I heard his approach from behind, and a surge of frustration rose in my throat. “Do not follow me.” I turned, glaring up at him.
“Being alone in my house is more proper than this?” He raised an eyebrow.
I released a huffed breath. “It was a matter of business.”
“Ensuring your safe return home is a matter of business for me.” He extended his arm with an expectant look.
I hesitated for a long moment before taking it. “I am still cross with you.”
“You have made that quite clear.”
I eyed him carefully as we started our walk, then turned my gaze forward. I did not need to explain my emotions or reasoning to him. He knew he had done something wrong by driving a wedge between Clara and Lord Trowbridge.
We walked in silence for a long moment before James spoke again. “My brother is stubborn. Even if I did try to change his mind now, he will not forget what I told him about the fortune hunting.”
My jaw tightened. I couldn’t blame him for trying to protect his brother. I was trying to do the same for my sister. “I will not ask you to involve yourself further on the subject. Clara and I will sort this out.”
James sighed. We were approaching my cottage now, so I dropped my grip on his arm and marched toward the front door. I rotated to face him one last time.
He stood several paces back. I felt strangely vulnerable under his gaze. His features were exasperated, yes, but also warm and soft. Perhaps he liked when I ran away from him. He seemed amused by it, at least.
“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” he said. “I am sorry for my interference. If you are telling the truth, then I wouldn’t wish to separate Thomas and Clara.”
I lifted my chin, a jolt of surprise passing through me. If only I found it so easy to apologize. My pride was like a stone wall in front of my heart. “I am glad you recognize your folly.”
James gave a grim nod, but his lips twitched. “The damage can be undone. Love is quite stubborn, like my brother.” He paused, meeting my gaze. “And like you.”
My jaw lowered, and I tried to plan a retort, but he had already turned around.
“Good day, Charlotte,” he said over his shoulder.
I did not wish him a good day. I stared at his back as he walked away.
Did he think he had insulted me? In truth, I took being stubborn as a compliment.
It meant I would not compromise on my ambitions and dreams. It meant I would not allow anyone to ruin my plans.
I took a deep breath to calm my vexation and turned toward the cottage door.
I would do well not to focus on James any longer. I had goals to achieve.
A new confidence soared within me, and I made the decision not to run from him any longer.
I would go to the Christmastide parties and have a wonderful time, and James would have no effect on me.
I would keep myself from falling in love with him or anyone else.
I was strong and would achieve every single one of my dreams.
Nothing could stop me now. Not a deformed hand, not a cottage in the North, and most certainly not Mr. James Wortham.