Chapter Twenty
Snow drifted lazily past the windows of Alverton Grange’s breakfast parlour as Charlotte stood adjusting her pelisse, her gloved fingers smoothing the fine wool with a precision that belied her inner turmoil.
The morning light caught the delicate embroidery at her cuffs - Margaret’s clever work, a Christmas gift given early to match her new winter bonnet.
“You need not do this.”
William’s voice from the doorway was again calm and unemotional in a way that made her heart ache.
Though their conversation in the morning room near two weeks ago had begun to bridge the chasm between them, his careful distance remained - as though he stood perpetually poised between reaching for her and withdrawing completely.
“I must.” Charlotte turned to face him, noting how the grey morning light emphasised the shadows beneath his eyes.
Had he slept at all? Or had he spent another night pacing his study, wrestling with secrets he still refused to share?
“The Christmas Fair has always drawn everyone of consequence in the neighbourhood. If Caldwell means to spread his poison further...”
“Then let him.” William moved into the room with measured grace, though something in his stance suggested barely contained tension. “Charlotte, what you propose... the risk of public scandal...”
“Is nothing compared to the risk of allowing his lies to destroy everything you’ve worked to rebuild.” She lifted her chin, meeting his troubled gaze directly. “Unless you mean to forbid me from attending altogether?”
The question hung in the frost-touched air between them. William’s jaw tightened, that small movement which revealed how deeply her words had struck.
“I am not in the habit of forbidding my wife anything,” he said finally, his voice roughening slightly on the word ‘wife’. “Though I might wish...”
A discreet cough from the doorway interrupted whatever admission might have followed. Phillips stood there with his usual dignity, though something in his expression suggested that he regretted the necessity of interruption.
“Your Grace, Lord Parrington’s carriage has arrived. And Lady Margaret asks me to tell you that she will meet your party at the Fair.”
Charlotte nodded, grateful for the butler’s impeccable timing.
Her carefully laid plans required precision - Edmund’s steadfast support, Margaret’s social connections, and most importantly, William’s absence during the initial confrontation.
The last thought sent a pang through her chest. More secrets, more delicate manipulations.
.. yet what choice remained, when he refused to let her help directly?
But… she rather thought that he suspected at least a little of her plan.
“The weather grows worse,” William observed, moving to the window. Snow swirled more thickly now, dusting the formal gardens with white that somehow emphasised the dormant rose beds’ stark beauty. “Perhaps it would be wiser to postpone...”
“Brother.” Edmund’s arrival brought a gust of chill air and characteristic energy.
He bowed to William with careful precision that did nothing to mask the concern in his eyes.
“Surely you don’t mean to deny the neighbourhood the pleasure of seeing the new Duchess of Alverton at her first Christmas Fair?
Think of the gossip that such an absence would generate. ”
Charlotte shot her brother a grateful look. Trust Edmund to strike directly at William’s pride in the maintaining of appearances. Even now, even with their careful accord still fragile as new ice, William’s protective instincts warred visibly with his sense of social obligation.
“The roads to town are perfectly passable,” Edmund continued smoothly. “And I’ve promised Charlotte the pleasure of choosing ribbons for her Christmas gifts. Unless you mean to accompany us yourself...?”
“I have business with Harrison this morning.” William’s voice held a tone that made Charlotte’s heart ache anew. Always business, always that distance, even now, when her entire being yearned to bridge the gap between them. “Though perhaps this afternoon...”
“We shall look forward to it,” Charlotte said softly.
The aching hope in her voice made William’s expression shift slightly - that momentary shift in his expression which revealed such deep and tangled emotion beneath.
Before he could respond, Phillips reappeared.
“Your Grace, Mr Harrison has arrived for your meeting.”
William’s shoulders tensed beneath his perfectly tailored coat. For a moment, Charlotte thought that he might refuse to leave - might insist on accompanying them, despite the careful plans that she had laid. Yet his ingrained sense of duty won out, as she had known it must.
“Take care,” he said quietly, the words meant for her alone.
Then he was gone, his measured stride carrying him away as snow continued to drift past the windows.
Charlotte allowed herself one moment to press her gloved hand against the cold glass, then turned and watched, through the open breakfast room door, William’s tall figure disappear into his study.
The distance between them remained, yet something had most definitely changed, albeit slowly, since their rain-soaked confrontation in the morning room.
As though the first stones had indeed begun to crumble from his carefully constructed walls. She had to believe that to be true.
“Charlotte.” Edmund’s voice held gentle urgency. “If we mean to arrive before Caldwell...”
“Yes.” She turned from the window, squaring her shoulders beneath her pelisse. “Phillips, please inform Mrs Walden that we may be late returning.”
The butler bowed with practiced dignity.
“Very good, Your Grace. I trust that the weather will prove clement for your outing.”
Something in his tone suggested that he understood far more than his neutral expression revealed.
Charlotte offered him a small smile as she accepted Edmund’s arm for the walk to the waiting carriage.
Snow dusted their shoulders as they crossed the short distance, the gravel drive already wearing a thin white blanket that muffled their footsteps.
Charlotte’s gloved fingers tightened on Edmund’s arm as another gust of wind set her skirts swirling.
“Are you certain about this?” her brother asked quietly as he handed her into the carriage. “Once we begin...”
“I have never been more certain of anything.” Charlotte settled herself against the squabs, smoothing her skirts with precision. “William would sacrifice everything to protect Alverton’s reputation. His pride, his happiness, perhaps even...”
She stopped, unable to voice her deepest fear.
Edmund settled opposite her as the carriage began to move.
“Perhaps even your marriage?”
“Yes.” The admission emerged barely above a whisper. Charlotte stared out of the window, watching snowflakes dance past like scattered diamonds. “He builds such determined walls, Edmund. Every time I think that I’ve found a way through them...”
“He retreats further?” Her brother’s voice held understanding. “Charlotte, are you quite sure that this confrontation will not simply give him more reason to withdraw?”
“What choice remains?” She turned from the window, meeting Edmund’s concerned gaze directly.
“Allow Caldwell to continue spreading his poison through the neighbourhood? Watch William shoulder these burdens alone until they break him completely? Even after Mr Harrison has discovered so much, William still hesitates to act to prevent Caldwell’s actions, because it would expose so much to public scrutiny.
I feel that I have no other choice left. ”
The carriage swayed slightly as they turned onto the main road towards the town. Edmund studied his sister’s face with the keen attention that had always made him such a formidable ally in childhood schemes.
“You love him,” he said finally, the words holding neither question nor judgment. “Enough to risk his anger, his trust, perhaps even his regard - all to protect him from a threat he refuses to fully acknowledge.”
“Yes.” Charlotte’s fingers twisted together in her lap, then stilled. “Though sometimes I wonder if he will ever allow himself to...”
She trailed off as the carriage crested a small rise, revealing the town spread below them like a picture from a children’s story.
Snow dusted the slate roofs and cobbled streets, and smoke rose in straight columns from countless chimneys.
The marketplace had been transformed for the Christmas Fair - colourful awnings protecting merchant stalls from the weather, evergreen boughs decorating every available surface, ribbons and baubles catching what light filtered through the clouds.
“Lady Margaret will meet us near the milliner’s shop,” Edmund said as their carriage joined the steady stream of vehicles approaching the town.
“When we’re ready, she’s agreed, if needed, to engage Caldwell in conversation while I fetch Harrison and his proof.
Harrison knows that he needs to make his way back here as soon as possible. You need only...”
“I know my part.” Charlotte’s voice steadied as she focused on the carefully laid plans. “Though I confess, I never thought to find myself arranging such elaborate schemes. Sometimes I hardly recognise myself these days.”
“Love changes us,” Edmund observed quietly. “Though perhaps not as much as we imagine. The courage was always there, sister. This situation merely gives it purpose.”
The carriage drew to a halt near the marketplace, which was transformed by the Christmas Fair into a festive wonderland, despite the steadily falling snow. Charlotte accepted Edmund’s hand to descend, her poise masking the thundering of her heart.