Chapter 2
Outskirts of London
Charlotte adjusted the blanket on her lap to keep her warm as the carriage rounded a curve in the road. Although the sun was shining, the brisk autumn air had her wishing for the warmth of the afternoon summer sun. She only had snow to look forward to in the months to come.
She ignored the other occupants inside the carriage while lost in thought over how she might be received at this impromptu visit to see Joseph and the progress he had thus far made on his home.
Her brother Garrett had tried to warn her to stay away until a formal invitation had been given, but she was never one to listen to his advice once she had her mind made up.
She shifted in her seat, feeling her brother’s gaze upon her.
She lifted her head and found she was right…
he was silently watching her as if waiting for her to tell him she had changed her mind. That was never going to happen.
She gave a sigh of relief when his attention returned to his friend, Lord Pierce Hartwell, who was sitting beside him.
The two gentlemen began to quietly converse amongst themselves leaving Charlotte once again to her own thoughts.
The carriage was crowded, since her own friend, Miss Florentia Eddowes, and Charlotte’s chaperone Mary sat with her on the forward-facing seat.
Garrett had insisted Mary travel with them.
Never let it be said her brother would risk his sister’s reputation when she entered an all-male household.
With London’s busy streets stretching away to a less-traveled country road, Charlotte began doubting her decision and the welcome she might receive.
If Michael was in residence, and she was certain he was, she knew she would be brought into the front parlor and a tea service would be placed before them, as if they knew she had been invited for a visit.
Michael had been a dear friend for years but Charlotte was also uncomfortably aware that he had at one time held an affection for her she would never be able to return.
Not when her heart had always longed for his older brother Joseph to notice her.
But though Joseph had always been polite, she wondered if he would ever think of her as anything else but his best friend’s sister or his brother’s crush.
Joseph always put everyone else in front of his own desires.
This was an admirable trait, but she worried that, when it came to her, he would never think of himself first.
“There’s no sense in doubting your decision, Charlotte. You’ll know shortly if you’ll be welcomed or not,” Florentia quietly murmured. “Unless, of course, you’d like to turn around and return to London. Your brother can make that happen with a short rap on the roof.”
“I still think this is a bad idea,” Garrett grumbled. “Bringing ladies to a man’s house unannounced is never a good idea.”
Charlotte gave a sniff of aggravation. “Pish, posh. Joseph won’t mind and we can again offer to help with whatever needs to still be done. Christmas will be here before he knows it and I can only imagine what still needs to be done with the manor.”
Pierce turned his attention from the passing scenery to the women seated across from him. “I can only imagine the house is in a sad state of repairs. Didn’t you say, Garrett, that Joseph planned to have the place completely remodeled so nothing of the original architecture remained the same?”
Garrett nodded. “So, I was told. Basically, he’s renovating everything he can. He doesn’t want his mother to be reminded of the past nightmares that occurred within those walls.”
Florentia shook her head. “From the little Charlotte has told me, he has his work cut out for him, then, especially if he wants to host a Christmas holiday party.” She gave a shudder.
“Joseph will see that, if nothing else, the first floor will be ready. I have faith in him,” Charlotte replied, with a smile of confidence.
She watched one brow on her brother’s forehead rise as if quizzical about her knowledge of his friend. “You haven’t been sneaking over to see what progress Joseph has been making since July, have you?” he asked, in a warning tone.
“Are you questioning my common sense, Garrett?” she returned sarcastically.
“If I had any sense of my own, we would be anywhere else instead of trekking out to the countryside uninvited,” her brother grumbled again.
The carriage rounded another curve and began the short ride to the front of Joseph’s manor house. She began to fold the blanket on her lap. “Well, it’s too late to further debate my impromptu decision. We’ve arrived.”
And arrive they did, as the carriage wheels now smoothly rolled over a well-maintained easement to the house where the previous potholes had been filled in.
The red bricks of the four-story manor had been cleaned of the moss along with the ivy that had threatened to overtake the windows.
Charlotte’s eyes roamed over the lawn, which had been neatly manicured since her last visit.
Trees and shrubbery had been skillfully pruned.
Roses would most likely bloom in a variety of shades come the spring and she wondered if the gardeners had had a chance to make the back of the house look as appealing as the front.
She smiled in pleasure, knowing how satisfied Joseph must feel at the transformation taking place.
But, as the footman let down the step for the occupants of the carriage to descend, her smile quickly faded when she observed Michael bolting through the front door. Concern was etched upon his brow.
“Now isn’t a good time for a visit, dear Charlotte,” he uttered, before a resounding crash came from somewhere within the manor.
“What the devil is going on?” Garrett questioned as he held onto to his sister’s arm to prevent her from running inside.
“It’s Joseph… exorcising some demons on the third floor is the best way to describe it,” Michael warned as he swiped at the hair falling over his forehead.
A growl of rage echoed in the air as another crash came from inside. Charlotte wrenched her arm from her brother’s grasp.
“You can’t go in there, Charlotte,” Garrett bellowed, as she ran toward the front steps.
“Watch me,” she replied, never once looking back before she ran through the front door, across the entry way floor, and lifted the hem of her dress to take the stairs two at a time. This was hardly a time to be lady-like. Not when Joseph needed her.
She didn’t think how inappropriate this might appear to anyone other than her brother, Florentia, and Lord Hartwell.
Once she reached the third-floor landing, she tried to get her bearings on where exactly Joseph was located.
Hearing what sounded as though an ax was being taken to some furniture, she raced in that direction and swung open the door.
“I told you to leave me alone, Michael!” Joseph’s voice was full of rage and Charlotte ducked in time to miss a vase being thrown toward the doorway. Her gasp of surprise caused Joseph’s grey eyes to grow wide in alarm. “Charlotte! My God! What did I almost do?”
Her eyes took in the sight of him. She had never before seen him so disheveled.
His black hair was sticking up on end, but that was hardly what drew her attention to the young man she had been attracted to for many a year.
His linen shirt was open to his waist, giving her a view of a dusting of dark hair on the muscled skin of his chest. A chest that heaved after the exertion of destroying the room.
She gulped at the sight of him as he came rushing across the room to take her hands.
“Are you injured?” he asked, with a worried frown etched across his tormented face. “I will never forgive myself if I inadvertently caused you harm.”
She shook her head no before noticing he was the one who was injured, if the scratches on his cheek and hands were any indication of the damage he had unknowingly done to his own body.
Her eyes scanned what was once a bedroom and the destruction told her much.
This room held plenty of unwanted memories that Joseph wanted to eradicate from his house.
He had done a good job of destroying anything of value that remained in the bedroom.
Glass from a mirror was shattered on the floor, the furniture hacked to bits.
Even what she could see of the multicolor floral print wallpaper had been torn from most of the walls.
She clucked her tongue and reached into the reticule dangling from her wrist to pull out a handkerchief. She held the linen up and gently dabbed at one of the scratches dripping blood down his cheek.
“I don’t know what demons from your past you were trying to get rid of in this room, Joseph, but I should tell you I believe they are now gone,” she murmured softly. “Perhaps if you told me about them, it might help erase such unwanted memories.”
He glanced back at the mess he had created. “I wouldn’t wish to burden you,” he replied so quietly she almost missed his words.
Her hand reached up to caressed one cheek.
“Dearest Joseph… Telling me something that upset you in your past is no burden when I know confiding in me would help someone I care for. I am a very good listener.” She hoped the smile she showed him was one that elicited confidence.
Something terrible had happened in this room, enough so that Joseph wanted no part of the memories in his future.
He turned from her as if remembering his appearance and began putting himself back in order.
He found his waistcoat and shook off whatever debris had found its way onto the garment.
His cravat came next and he tied the linen efficiently before at last turning around to face her.
A lock of his black hair fell over his forehead and she crossed the distance between them.
Impulsively, Charlotte reached up to brush the thick locks back into place.
“Tell me,” she urged, taking hold of his arm.