Chapter 31 - Charlotte #2
But there was no time to ponder it. Each second that passed brought her closer to discovery, closer to someone at the church realizing that the bride had fled. She hurried to the third door, her pulse racing as she gripped the handle and pushed it open.
Stephen stood in the small room, packing his belongings into a worn leather bag. He turned at her entrance, shock transforming his features.
“Charlotte?”
He straightened, his tall frame nearly touching the slanted ceiling.
One hand rose to run through his dark curls—a nervous gesture that sent a flutter through her stomach.
There was something about the way his fingers disappeared into those unruly strands that was unreasonably attractive.
The memory of how soft that hair had felt beneath her own fingers almost made her reach up and touch it again.
She tried to speak, but her breath was still coming too fast from the run, from fear, from the sheer impossibility of standing here, in his room, with everything she’d ever known crumbling behind her.
“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice came out strained, almost broken. “You need to leave. Right now. This will ruin you.”
Still catching her breath, she took in the sight of him.
The strong line of his jaw. The intensity in his expression as he looked at her, searching her face with something she couldn’t quite read.
She noticed how different he looked in the morning sun streaming through the small window, and he was somehow even more handsome than she’d remembered.
“I can’t marry him.” The words burst out, tumbling over each other. “I can’t go to that church and pledge my life to someone else when every part of me belongs to you.”
He turned his face away, looking up at the slanted ceiling. “This is madness, Charlotte.” He ran his hand over his face. “The scandal will destroy your family’s name. Your father—“
“He’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that.” His jaw clenched, tension radiating through every line of his body. “And even if he will be, what then? I have nothing to offer you. No position, no money, no future except—“
“You think I care about any of that?” She stepped closer. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? In the garden?”
His eyes closed briefly, his chest rising with a deep breath. “Charlotte—“
“You said you loved me.” Her voice softened, tears threatening to spill.
“And I was so scared, I didn’t say it back.
I let you walk away thinking I didn’t feel the same.
” She moved closer still. “But I do, Stephen. I love you. I’ve loved you for weeks and I was too much of a coward to say it until now. ”
She watched his composure crack, just slightly. His hands clenched at his sides as if physically restraining himself from reaching for her. He still wouldn’t look at her, his breath coming harder now.
“That changes nothing.” The words came out rough, almost desperate. “Love doesn’t put food on the table or keep a roof over your head. You deserve security, Charlotte. You deserve a proper home.”
“You are my home, Stephen.” The certainty in her voice made him finally look at her, his eyes dark and burning with an intensity that made her knees weak. “Don’t you understand? Wherever you are, that’s where I belong. Not in some grand estate, not in London society. With you.”
“Do you think I don’t want this?” His voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. “That I haven’t dreamed of it? She reached for him, but he caught her wrist gently before she could touch him, his thumb brushing against her pulse point.
“Then why are you fighting this?”
“Because I love you far too deeply to watch you cast aside everything.” The honesty in his voice brought fresh tears to her eyes that blurred his face until she had to blink to see him clearly.
“Consider what this would mean, Charlotte. Breaking your engagement, running from the church—all to be with someone like me. You would face nothing but scandal and whispers, doors closed in your face, your reputation destroyed. You deserve better.”
“There is no better.” She twisted her wrist free of his grasp and laid her palm against his chest. Through the thin shirt, she could feel his heart thundering as rapidly as her own.
“You’re smarter than most men who went to university, yet you never make anyone feel lesser for not knowing something.
You care so deeply about people and help anyone who needs it, whether they’ve asked or not.
You’re kind, not because it benefits you but because that’s who you are.
” Her voice filled with genuine bewilderment.
“You’re perfect. How can you possibly not know that? ”
A flush crept up his neck, coloring his cheeks. He looked away, as if her words physically pained him.
“I’m far from perfect, Charlotte.”
“Not to me.” She reached up with her free hand, gently turning his face back to hers. “You’re everything I want. Everything I need.”
He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the feeling of her palm against his cheek. Slowly, he raised his hand to cover hers, holding it there for a heartbeat before gently pulling her forward and tucking her head against his chest, his arms wrapping around her.
Her arms came around him, her hands sliding across his back where she could feel the solid strength beneath his shirt. The familiar scent of old papers and ink surrounded her as she pressed closer, wanting to memorize everything.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, one hand coming up, fingers threading gently through her hair. His other arm remained wrapped around her waist, keeping her close.
After a long moment, she pulled back to look up at him and found him already watching her, tears shining on his face.
“My Charlotte,” he breathed, his thumb brushing away a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. “My brilliant, beautiful, impossible Charlotte. What am I to do with you?”
“Take me to Scotland,” she whispered.
He went perfectly still, watching her. “Right now?”
“Right now.” Her hand tightened in his. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
The clock in the hallway chimed the hour, startling them both.
“We must go,” she said, though everything in her wanted to stay in this moment forever. “They’ll be looking for me.”
Stephen’s hands slid from her face to thread his fingers with hers. “Once we do this, there’s no turning back.”
“I know.” And she did. Knew it with a certainty that settled in her bones, that sang through her blood.
“Then let’s go,” he said quietly. “Together.”
She paused at the door for one last look at him, memorizing the way he stood, bathed in the morning light filtering through that small window. In a few hours, everything would change. And soon after that, this view would be hers every day—no more stolen glances, no more goodbyes.