Chapter 13
21 st July 1815
Three days! Three days had passed since their arrival at Bathwick Abbey, and Charles had been little more than a ghost. Since their confrontation in his study, he had been absent at dinner, claiming a headache due to the dust of the road on the first evening, which was unlikely in a summer that had boasted of more rain than sun. The second, he had spent the entire day out on the estate with his brother. She never happened upon him when she went riding, but she did not venture out near the tenant farms where he was more than likely spending his time. Her stomach sank low in her belly. Charles had been scarce today as well. Thus far, he had taken great pains to avoid her. Not that she had expected any less from him.
She paced in her bedchamber, walking to and fro in the richly appointed room. The wall coverings featured a simple pattern of birds and flowers in the palest of pinks and fern greens, while the fabrics on the furniture and draperies were various shades of ivories and greens to complement the wall coverings. The effect was one she enjoyed immensely.
Her hands grasped and fluttered her nightgown as she attempted to cool herself. The day had been unseasonably warm, and the evening proved to be no better. The weather had been hotter since they arrived in the country—a much better place to be than London when the heat was unbearable. They had not had many such days this summer, yet the two or three they had endured were not to her liking, and truth be told, the heat was not of aid to the situation with Charles—the intolerable stickiness only added to her frustration.
She bit her lip and stared at the door for a moment before tiptoeing over and peeking into the passage. The heat was too great for a dressing gown, at least to her it was, but no one would be about at this hour, so she crept out and in a slow meander, wandered the house much as she had the day of her arrival.
The hour was beyond late, and as she had presumed, no one was about. A clacking sound at the end of the corridor drew her towards a room she had yet to enter. With quiet steps, she made her way past Charles’s study to the last room on the left where she found him standing before a table—a billiards table, his stick propped on the floor beside him. Her brother had a similar room at Pemberley. He and Richard often played late into the night when they had important matters or business to discuss.
At that moment, the man before her—the man she loved—stood with his back to her. His topcoat and waistcoat had been shed and thrown over a piece of furniture to one side and a glass of what had to be brandy rested on the edge of billiards table.
Before she could second guess herself, she entered and placed her hand between his shoulder blades to garner his attention. He gave a bit of a start but did not turn around.
“ You should be asleep ,” he said aloud.
She stepped around to his side. “I cannot sleep when the air is so thick. Do you object to my presence?”
“ That depends why you are here. I made my feelings and wishes known as did you. I believe there is little left for us to discuss. Do you not agree? ”
“Your proposal was an insult.”
He sighed and shifted to lean over the table. After aiming his shot, he drew back the stick and hit the white ball that, in turn, struck another, sending the red ball into the corner pocket. “ I am offering what I can—what I am able to provide. Would you prefer I lie to you? I have no wish to hurt you. ”
With a hand to his shoulder, she tugged him around. “’Tis too late for that. Every day that you endeavour to separate yourself from me only serves to rip my heart further from my chest.” She levelled him with a hard glare. “And do not dare pretend you do not feel the same. You may not have expressly said what was in your heart, but your eyes give away your every emotion, as did the way you loved me that night at the inn. So do not feed me falsehoods, for I know better. I know you love me as much as I love you or you would never have become so free with me.”
“ Miss Darcy, I am grieved to know I have injured you so. It was never my intention to engage feelings in you that I could not reciprocate— ”
“Do not.” The motions of her words were unforgiving.
“ You may stay at Bathwick as long as you need or wish, but I shall never offer more than what I have. ’Tis the sole way I can protect you in this world .” Her chest caved at the blow his words created, yet his countenance remained impassive. “ If you recall, we never had any understanding .”
“No, we avoided speaking of that, yet you held me and kissed me. We had agreed to take our friendship day by day. You insinuated we could become more when you were ready. Do you not remember how happy we were together in that field of poppies? You have spoken more and smiled more since then. You have even laughed from time to time. Yet, since the inn, you have even gone so far as to avoid looking at me. You would not behave so if you did not—do not care.”
He shook his head. “ Pray, do not —”
“Charles—”
He snapped back from her. “ Pray, do not be so informal with me .”
She clenched her hands into fists until her fingernails dug painfully into her palm. “You were the one who invited me to call you Charles, or have you forgotten?”
“ A mistake on my part. Forgive me .”
His words made her flinch as if another hard strike had been made to that hollow place now forming behind her ribs. “No, I do not believe you.”
“ Believe me or not, I tell the truth .”
The wound his words had formed began to wane, and in its place, another wave of emotion began to rise, coursing through her and making her step boldly up to his chest. “Very well, do as you will, you coward.” She spat the last as she signed.
This time he flinched, but she gave him no time to respond before she strode with purpose from the room. She could not return to her bedchamber. She was not tired in the least, and her entire body hummed in a manner that made her restless. The next room was the library, so she hastened inside and straight to the glazed glass doors that led to the gardens.
Since she had been in the billiards room, a steady rain had begun to fall upon the grounds. Her hand released the latch, and she stepped outside into the night. The air was milder and provided a modicum of respite. As she stepped from the protection of the house, the cool droplets covered her heated flesh and provided some much-needed relief. She plodded down onto a patch of grass off the small terrace and let the blades tickle between her bare toes, her head tipping up towards the sky, her eyes closed. What she needed was to be soaked through—to let the rain wash the heat as well as her confusion and anger away. Perhaps then her heart would not ache so.
Hot tears leaked from her eyes and mingled with the rain droplets upon her cheeks. Charles had once declared that he could be husband to no one, but she had allowed the barriers to her heart to fall, and now, she was paying the price. She could have and should have protected herself, but she had been na?ve and thought having love for a time and losing it would be better than not experiencing it at all. Charles had slipped through the cracks in her armour, and he had required little effort. After all, he could be kind and attentive when he was not guarding his own heart. He could also be affectionate. How could a lady not fall for such charms in a gentleman?
She also could not forget how Charles had journeyed to London with her from Hemel Hill and braved the jewellers, despite his discomfort around those who may not have accepted him. He also arranged their picnic in the poppies, which had become more of a nap amongst the brightly coloured flowers. That day, more than any other, had caused her to hope as she had not allowed herself to hope before. She had been a fool.
Her feet carried her to a row of lavender planted around the perimeter of the rose garden, and the scent of the tiny violet buds combined with the larger blooms was fragrant in the warmth of the night. As she started towards a nearby bench, a pull at her elbow turned her around.
“ What are you doing? ” said Charles aloud. “ You will catch your death .”
In the darkness, he would not know what she signed, so she pushed him back and made to continue. The pull to her elbow occurred again, but this time, he made no attempt at speaking but instead, lifted her over his shoulder and began striding back towards the house.
Georgiana beat at his back. “Put me down this instant.” Only he could not hear her demands, so she twisted and pushed in an attempt to free herself, but the endeavour was fruitless. He was too strong.
When they entered the house, she ensured she did not voice her frustration with his treatment lest the entire household be alerted to what was afoot, but she continued to struggle as he carried her up the stairs, which only made him add his other arm so she was secure.
No sooner had she been set back upon her feet than she let her hand swing, slapping him across the cheek with enough force to make a sharp pain shoot through her wrist. “Do not ever treat me so again! Now, get out!” He had brought her to her bedchamber, so now, he was the interloper.
His jaw worked while he stared for a moment, then gave a curt bow and departed without delay. As soon as the door closed, she ripped her drenched nightgown over her head and threw it onto the floor. She used the towelling with the basin to dry herself. After she found another nightgown amongst her belongings, she paced.
Charles strode to his bedchamber and leaned against the door once it was shut. He squeezed his eyes closed and dropped his head back. Of all the stupid, foolhardy things to do. He had told Georgie that she would catch her death, but in truth, the night was so warm and uncomfortable, the cooling effect of the rain was welcome, even for him. He should have just left her to wander the gardens. He could have stood guard from the window of the library to ensure she came to no harm, but no, he had to drag her back inside. The slap had been unexpected, though he welcomed the sting. He deserved it.
What he had not planned was the sight of her when he lowered her to the ground. Her white nightgown soaked through, almost transparent, and clinging to every part of her. The rosy peaks of her nipples were easily discernible as was her navel and lower. His tongue craved the flavour of her bare skin, craved the sweetness of her.
He swallowed hard. She was a tempting siren who would lure him to his demise, and now, he would go mad with wanting her. He had long desired her, but this only added further kindling to the inferno.
And what was worse was that while his traitorous body had responded to the vision before him, he had almost missed the red-rimmed eyes that had meant she had been crying. He had hurt her yet again. He would need to keep his distance as he had endeavoured to do before. She was not the only one whose heart was engaged. He had gone and fallen in love with her, and only now, after the reminder at the inn of why he should never marry, did he know the truth of his own heart. He had doomed himself to live in misery without her. What other choice did he have? She surely hated him by now.