Chapter Eighteen
The carriage ride to London had been uneventful until they got closer to town.
By the time they hit the outskirts of London, the weather was changing.
Not for the better, either. What had started as a partially cloudy day with a variety of clouds quickly changed.
The clouds and sky had turned to an almost dark-gray in color.
The wind had whipped up, and there was the smell of a storm brewing nearby.
Cathryn had been peering out the window for quite a while watching not only the landscape but the worsening weather rolling in. “Do you think it’ll blow over?”
“Yes, the wind has picked up. It won’t stay long.”
“I hope you’re right,” she replied.
Charles smiled and looked out the carriage window at the darkening sky. “Of course, I am. I believe it’ll stay for the afternoon and evening, but everything will be back to normal tomorrow morning.”
“Where did you learn to be such an expert on weather?”
“Wight. The weather was always changing, and changing at the spur of the moment. I began to see a pattern.”
“Of course, you did. I imagine Wight is no different than any other coastal area.”
He nodded. “You’re right. The coast is where the storms come in and start out with a vengeance.”
“You see,” she said, looking at him, “living on Wight taught you a lot of things most men would overlook.”
“It did, but you must remember the season is beginning to slowly change. Autumn is coming, and that’s why we see more bad weather than usual.”
She settled into her corner of the carriage, pulling a blanket around her. “I think I’m going to rest my eyes. The carriage ride isn’t agreeing with me today, and I don’t know why.”
“Of course,” he said. This was quite unusual for Cathryn. Usually, she was the rock when it came to things that made some women swoon. The roads were in good order. No unusual holes to cause the carriage to sway unnecessarily.
The swaying of the carriage was lulling his eyes heavy.
With the inside now quiet from conversation, he couldn’t help but give into sleep.
Besides, he figured he was probably still tired from his adventure a few days ago and the lovemaking he and Cathryn shared last night.
He always figured her for a passionate woman, but last night brought it out two-fold. She was becoming quite the seductress.
Charles shut his eyes and tried to void his mind of everything.
If he didn’t, he would find himself wide awake, unable to sleep.
His mind would grab on to something he hadn’t solved earlier and wouldn’t let go.
It didn’t matter what it was. Today was no different.
He focused on a curtain in the carriage.
Its movement and how much the movement of the carriage made it sway.
That didn’t last. His mind had moved on.
Moved on to the Prince of Wales. Would he remember him?
Maybe he wouldn’t. That would be just fine with Charles.
To put it mildly, the prince was loud and boisterous.
A narcissist. Everything revolved around the prince, as he had to be the center of attention.
The man disliked being around people who wanted to discuss something meaningful.
He would turn the conversation around to him in a matter of minutes, and those involved would find themselves listening to the prince once again manipulate what he thought was important.
Subject matter could also go to matters best suited to an audience of only men.
Bedroom talk was one of the prince’s favorites, and he didn’t mind the ladies being near.
He had a very unusual sexual appetite and was quick to point out he liked to watch or try new things.
Things that he could do with his large girth.
After all, after sex, food was the Prince of Wales’s favorite topic.
He liked only the best. It didn’t matter what it was: caviar, steak tartar.
As long as the prince wanted something, he kept his staff hopping to find what he wanted.
Charles tried to keep this sort of thing tucked away in the back of his mind.
He would be going to the prince and princess’s musicale where his wife would be the top billing.
All he could hope was that they would be enthralled with Cathryn’s playing and that would be that.
But the prince being who he was wouldn’t be so tolerant.
He’d want to show her off to anyone who would give him time.
He would probably brag to his wife about what a superior piano player he was but that he hadn’t pursued it because of being who he was.
He had so many other duties, practice eluded him, but he was known to have house parties that went on for days and at which he sometimes played.
Another way to keep himself as the center of attention.
This was what happened when Charles had too much time on his hands. His mind wrapped around something and wouldn’t let go. His thoughts never truly left him. Something always was waiting to grab on to his attention.
He glanced over at Cathryn who was sound asleep and envied her for being able to peacefully sleep through anything.
She looked like an angel lying there. His life certainly had taken a sharp turn when he met her.
She was the only person in a long time who understood him and his oddness.
Not to say she didn’t have her limits. Despite differences, they complemented each other, and he was thankful for that.
Before Cathryn, he never considered that he would ever find a woman who would become his wife.
A solitary life is what he imagined was in store for him.
Being alone never bothered him, but as soon as he met her, that all changed.
Closing his eyes for a matter of minutes, he tried to guess where the carriage was as they neared London.
He could tell when they were getting near because the carriage would slow and then the horses would liven up again before slowing because of the traffic.
People like them headed into London. Some on business, some for pleasure, and others both.
The change of pace woke Cathryn. He heard her move around next to him. Her hand gently touched his shoulder.
“Charles, are you awake? I think we’re getting close to town. The traffic has everyone slowed down.”
“I’m awake,” he replied. “I was wondering when the slowing down and speeding up was going to wake you.”
“You’re beginning to know my habits, Charles.”
“Your likes and dislikes too.”
She giggled and edged closer to him. “Really? Do tell.”
He danced around her question. “Your nap must have agreed with you.”
“How’s that?”
“You weren’t feeling well and appear to be much better now.”
She nodded. “I feel much better. I’m not sure what brought that on.”
“You’ve had a lot going on lately. Some days you go from the moment you wake up until you get into bed. It would wear the best man or woman down.”
Leaning her head on to his shoulder, Cathryn sighed. “I don’t like to make excuses for my actions, but I do like this.”
Charles had to agree. The more they were together, the more he liked even the simplest of gestures like this. “As do I.”
He turned his head to peer out the window on his side. The carriage had slowed down to a walk and from what he could tell, there was a very long line in front of them. There would be no relief until they were farther into London and carriages began to veer off to their destinations.
Ordinarily, he would exit the carriage and walk to his destination.
The carriage would come, but a bit later, and by then he would be sitting back in front of a cozy fire.
There would be none of that today. She’d just gotten over him disappearing on the estate and he didn’t need to pull another one. So he’d just stay put.
“Who knows? Maybe some of these people have been invited to hear you play.”
“If you’re trying to make me even more nervous than I already am, it’s working,” she said.
“You’re nervous? I find that hard to believe.”
“What has me on edge is the idea that I have no real experience playing private parties. Except for my parents’ soirees, of course.”
“Can you not pretend no one is in the room with you?” he asked.
“That’s what I try to do, but if there are even a few who insist on whispering during my performance, it takes all I have not to stop and reprimand them for being rude.”
Charles burst into a fit of laughter. He could imagine her doing that. Stopping midway through a piece, getting up from the piano, and confronting the offending party.
“I’m glad you think that’s funny,” she said. She was trying not to smile.
“I apologize, but I can see you doing this.”
“That’s because I have.”
“What? Do tell.”
Cathryn smiled and turned to face him better.
“It happened at one of my mother’s teas.
I was in the middle of a piece by Mozart.
An entire table, sitting off to my right, had sat there the entire time I’d been playing, whispering and just being rude.
I stopped playing and stood in front of them and told them off.
One of the women was a dowager duchess, who I shan’t name. She looked at me like ‘how dare you.’”
“Did you continue? Or did you quit?”
“I went back, sat down, and started the piece from the beginning. And before you ask, no, the duchess and her friends continued on as though nothing had happened.”
“They didn’t!”
“Oh, yes. The duchess even told my mother I was rude and had no manners and that my mother needed to fix my bad behavior before it was too late.”
He snorted. “Sounds like the duchess had the bad manners.”
“Yes. I’ve never seen her since that day. My mother said she’d bought a home in Paris and had moved there.”
“I’d say she’ll get along just fine with the French.”
She nodded, saying nothing for a few moments. Charles could tell she wasn’t feeling well again. He kissed her on the forehead.