Chapter Thirty-Seven
Obedient to her father’s wishes but reluctant to spend any more time in Mr. Morton’s company than she had to, Charlotte arrived at the parson house the next morning after breakfast. The sooner they started, she reasoned, the sooner the job would be completed.
A maid showed her to the dining room where she found Frederick still at his meal. Seeing her, he jumped up and bowed.
“Good morning, Miss Kendall. I was not anticipating you would arrive so early. Pray forgive my still being at breakfast. I slept in a bit as it took me a while to fall asleep last night.”
“No doubt the unfamiliarity of the room,” Charlotte said, avoiding looking at him directly. “I hope you are finding the parsonage to your liking?”
“Oh my, yes, it is quite nice. In fact, I really do not think there is much to be done in the way of improvements.”
Charlotte shrugged. “My father has decreed that updates must be made, so we shall walk through each room and decide what, if anything, needs changing. But please,” she gestured to him to sit, “finish your meal. I do not mind.”
Instead of taking his seat, Frederick went to the sideboard and retrieved another cup and saucer. “You’re very kind. May I offer you a cup of tea while you wait for me?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Charlotte nodded and took a seat at the table two chairs away from his.
She accepted her tea from him with a nod and saw that he had already added a splash of milk.
She tasted it. He had remembered her preference of one sugar, too.
She glanced up to see him looking at her eagerly for approval.
“Exactly how I take my tea, Mr. Morton, thank you,” she said simply. His relieved smile puzzled her. Why was he making such an effort? Likely, he was still attempting to make amends to her for his brother’s behavior.
“Good. I thought I had it right.” He grinned and returned to his breakfast.
The palms of Charlotte’s hands were damp, and she wiped them surreptitiously on her napkin.
What on earth was wrong with her? She had always been perfectly at ease around Frederick before.
She concentrated on her tea, wondering if she should try to converse.
Oh, but what could she possibly talk about that wouldn’t lead to the one subject she was certain neither of them wished to speak of—Robert’s betrayal.
For a moment, Charlotte considered that she was being unfair.
Perhaps Robert had never even spoken to his brother of his attachment to Charlotte.
It was possible Frederick knew nothing about her heartache.
Possible, she thought, but highly unlikely.
Frederick had seemed reluctant to discuss in detail the hasty marriage at dinner last night.
Was it because he knew it would pain her?
Or was it a general disapproval of the elopement?
Charlotte felt agonized over the whole topic.
Best to ignore it completely and concentrate on the task at hand.
She gazed around the dining room and, after a moment, cleared her throat.
“The draperies and furnishings here seem more than adequate, Mr. Morton. Our former rector was unmarried and did very little entertaining. I understand he preferred his dinner on a tray in his study. Perhaps we can cross this room off our list of needing improvements?”
“Yes, it seems perfectly satisfactory to me, Miss Kendall.”
“Unless you would wish for new wallpaper,” she added hastily. “I am sure my father would not object should you wish for something more modern. These flowers and birds might be thought somewhat dated.”
He looked at the wallpaper as though seeing it for the first time before turning a serious gaze back to her. “What would you prefer?”
Charlotte looked away and gave a little laugh. “I am not the one who will be living here, Mr. Morton.”
“But, if you were?”
Charlotte turned a puzzled countenance to him. “If I were?” she repeated.
“Pretend that this were your home; would you think the birds and flowers old-fashioned? I rely on your very good taste, you see, so please tell me what you would enjoy.”
Charlotte frowned a moment, considering.
Then, her mouth turned up into a small smile.
“Well, I actually always favored this paper, to own the truth. I remember when my sister chose it for the prior rector. You see, she had taken me along to help her choose it, though I was but seven years of age. I felt very grown up to be allowed to go with her. Looking back, I can see now how she gently guided me in the direction she ultimately wanted, yet, Dorothea had a way of making me feel as though this paper was my choice and mine alone. I felt so proud.”
“Then, the paper stays,” Frederick said decisively. He had a few more bites of breakfast, before continuing, “Lady Gillingham always looks out for your best interests. I saw that clearly this summer.” His eyes tentatively sought hers and she saw regret—or was it compassion in them?
There it was. The subject was broached. Charlotte could either ignore it, acknowledge it with a small jest, or bravely speak the truth. She took a deep breath.
“Yes,” she finally replied. “Dorothea has always been a bit like a mother to me. But that does not mean all that she does is correct. Her…encouraging me toward your brother, for example.” She took a moment to steady herself, before continuing, “I must tell you she was absolutely certain of his…affection for me. And that is one reason I allowed myself to believe I was in love. But, clearly she—and I—were mistaken, else he would not have married Miss Graham so soon after we departed for Clayton House.”
“I am not at liberty to tell you the reasons behind Robert’s actions, Miss Kendall.
I can assure you, however, that I was as shocked as everyone in the county to learn of the elopement.
” He lowered his voice. “And, your sister was not mistaken in his attentions toward you, although as we all saw, in the end, his heart did not seem to be as…firmly fixed as we had all believed. Please permit me to say how very sorry I am for the pain he caused you.”
Charlotte fought back tears and took a shuddering breath. After a moment she managed, “Whatever the reason for his acts, what’s done is done, and I wish him every happiness.”
Frederick clenched his jaw and shook his head.
“You are kinder toward him than he deserves, Miss Kendall. Kinder to him than I was. To be away from Brentwood just now is a great relief to me, and your father’s offer of the living here came at a most opportune time.
But—although I have accepted the living, I must entreat you to tell me the truth: will it be too painful for you should I be the new rector?
Will my presence cause you unhappy memories?
For should that be the case, I shall resign my acceptance of the living at once. ”
Charlotte bit her lower lip as she considered his statement. She finally gave him a small smile.
“No, pray, do not consider resigning. You and I were always friends. Despite the heartache Robert caused me, I…I should like our friendship to be one pleasant memory that came out of this summer. To ask you to give up a good living would only compound the unhappiness of his actions. In time, what took place at Haverstone will be long forgotten, even though at this time I cannot fully forgive him. Or myself.”
“Miss Kendall, you are too good. Although I am a man of the cloth, it is not for me to ask you to forgive him. I can just beg you to believe that—not all men would act in such a manner.”
He spoke the last words with a firm conviction and his hand stretched out across the table toward her, before abruptly pulling it back.
She looked at his earnest face—not as handsome as his brother’s, but still well favored.
His words and expression were sincere; Charlotte saw no artifice in his countenance.
She slowly nodded as his meaning became clear—she understood he was signaling that he would not tempt her heart and therefore, she had nothing to fear.
He was saying that he would be a friend. And nothing more.
“Thank you, Mr. Morton.” She rose from the table, and he immediately jumped up, too. “Let us begin our work. Shall we go into the drawing room and see what needs refreshing there?”
Without waiting for a reply, she moved briskly out of the dining room, grateful that as he followed, he would not see the tears gathering in her eyes once again.