Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Magnus made no effort to sugarcoat the story for Charlotte’s benefit.
She’d asked for his version of events and that’s what he was going to give her.
If she was disposed to think ill of him because of it, then that’s how it must be.
He’d had worse disappointments in his life than the loss of one young lady’s good opinion.
Though, admittedly, at the moment, risking this particular young lady’s good opinion felt like a risk rather too great to take.
But he owed her his honesty if nothing else.
“There were tears on Miss Farr’s part,” he said.
“A great many. Her father was away in Upper Beadwell, so it fell to her brother to allay her disappointment. Unfortunately for me, Jeremiah wasn’t disposed to wait for his father’s return.
He took the whole affair as a slight, not only against his sister, but against his entire family.
Yet another example, he claimed, of the peerage treating the local gentry with disrespect. ”
Charlotte leaned forward in her seat. Chase’s lead had gone slack in her hand. “He called you out?”
“He did.”
She drew back slightly, betraying her disbelief.
“But no one does that anymore! It’s an antiquated practice.
The sort of thing our grandfathers would have done.
Indeed, my grandfather, Lord Allendale, often dueled with pistols.
My grandfather Heywood too. It was common in their generation, though I expect they were greater shots than most. My family is known for it. ”
Magnus inwardly grimaced. Of course it’s what her family would be known for. Duels and marksmanship. And she had brothers, did she not? Two of them, each probably well-armed to act in defense of her honor.
“My family isn’t known for it,” he said. “Nor was Miss Farr’s.”
“Then why would her brother—?”
“The same reason that his sister imagined herself in love with me,” Magnus said.
“Village life in these parts is excessively dull. People are prone to making their own dramas. Gossip about their neighbors, long-running prejudices, and whispers of scandals long past. Miss Farr and her brother were no different. They were both of them prone to ridiculous, outsized gestures.”
“They were young,” Charlotte suggested. Her frowning gaze drifted over his face. “You must have been quite young too.”
“I was not yet seventeen.”
She stilled in surprise. “Why, that’s practically a child!”
He smiled briefly at her dismay. “You’re not much older yourself.”
“I’m one and twenty,” she replied, on her dignity. “That age in a young lady is far older than a gentleman of the same years. It’s a simple fact.”
“I won’t dispute it.”
She paused before asking, “How old was Miss Farr?”
“Sixteen as well.”
She shook her head. “You were children.”
“It seems so now,” Magnus said. “Not so much at the time.”
“My father would never have allowed me to marry at sixteen. And to a gentleman no older!”
“Miss Farr’s family had no such qualms.”
“Because you were the son of an earl?” Charlotte asked. “And because your family was so rich?”
“That was the root of it,” Magnus said. “It would have made Miss Farr a countess one day. It’s not a title many would willingly relinquish. Not if there was the smallest chance it might happen.”
“She still believed there was a chance you wanted to marry her?” Charlotte’s skirts rustled as Chance slipped past her to wander across the kitchen. He got as far as the end of his lead. “Did you want to, Magnus?”
“Want to? No.” He gave another humorless laugh. “Even if I had agreed in order to keep the peace, my father never would have. He was obsessed with his own countenance. With this house. With those gardens. It was the sole of his focus after my mother’s death. He couldn’t see past it.”
Sometimes Magnus had felt that his father couldn’t even see him. Magnus had only existed as far as he burnished the family honor. Once he’d ceased to serve the purpose, he’d been as disposable as a stranger.
“He may not have been mad,” Magnus said gruffly, “but I realize now that he wasn’t in his right mind for much of that time. The scandal didn’t cause it outright, but it was sufficient to push him over the edge.”
Charlotte regarded him with solemn attention. “What happened?”
“Jeremiah and I had words that day, but nothing was resolved. He issued a challenge, which I ignored. I believed cooler heads would prevail. But Jeremiah was past that. He came here to the Manor the next morning having stewed about the matter all night, presumably over several glasses of whiskey. He was armed with a pistol.”
She covered her mouth with her hand.
“One of the servants admitted him into the small parlor. Another slight, Jeremiah believed, which only made things worse.” Magnus took a deep breath.
He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d last related this story.
A decade at least. “I met him in the parlor. We’d barely exchanged a dozen words before his sister burst in.
It was all excessively melodramatic. She was sobbing and he drew his pistol.
She made a grand show of trying to wrest it from his hand.
I attempted to take it from him too. Miss Farr thrust herself between us while we struggled.
I almost had the pistol in my grasp when it went off. ”
Charlotte stared at him, lips half parted in horror.
Magnus picked up his cup again. His mouth was suddenly dry. It was the damnedest thing. The affair had happened so long ago. He’d thought it didn’t matter anymore. Yet, even now…
He downed the remainder of his tea.
“The bullet struck Miss Farr’s heart,” he said.
“It went straight through her chest and into her brother’s midsection.
She was dead almost instantly. His death came later.
The surgeon was able to remove the bullet, but there was fabric within the wound.
Part of his coat, the surgeon said, or possibly Miss Farr’s dress. ”
“Oh, Magnus,” Charlotte breathed. “Oh, how dreadful.”
“Their father was devastated, naturally. He never recovered. When he died, I was blamed for that too.” Magnus paused, empty teacup still in his hand. “While my own father…”
Charlotte held his gaze.
“He never forgave me,” Magnus said.
“It wasn’t your fault. Surely he knew—”
“But it was my fault.” His mouth twisted into a brief, bitter smile. “Just as I told you.”
“For being too kind? Rubbish.” She paused to reel Chance back to her again. The little dog came reluctantly now they’d finished their meal. “Miss Farr was responsible for her own actions. Her brother was too, more to the point. You said he was older? How much older?”
“Twenty,” Magnus admitted. “It makes no difference—”
“Of course it does! Unless…” A thought seemed to occur to her. “Were you found to be at fault?”
“It would have been better if I had been,” Magnus said. “Instead, the inquest returned a verdict of Death by Misadventure.”
She sucked in a breath at the scandalous implication. “There was an inquest?”
“Oh yes.” Again, Magnus smiled. “And that, my father could never forgive. He cast me out not long after.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t quite understand—”
“Don’t you? I have been in exile, Charlotte. Eleven long years, first at sea, then acting as something of a mercenary after having had my head nearly blown off during the Battle of Kagoshima. And it’s exile where I intend to return directly after I’ve finished my business here.”
Her face was transformed by concern. “Is that what happened to cause your burns? An attack on your ship?”
“Cannon fire,” he said.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s responsible for my swift rise through the ranks.
Both my captain and commander were killed in the bombardment.
I was promoted on the spot, and elevated again soon after.
Whether it was owing to my father’s influence or my own idiotic efforts at playing the hero I’ll never know.
” He stood, his hands still resting on the table.
“Now, if I’ve sufficiently answered all of your questions—”
Charlotte was at once on her feet. “Magnus—”
“No more,” he said. “I’ve already said too much.” He directed a glance to the window, gauging the position of the sun. “And you’ve stayed too long.”
“Not that long,” she objected.
“Your presence here isn’t going to help either of our situations.” He reached for Chance’s rope lead. “So, unless you fancy yourself joining me in exile—”
“I dispute this whole analogy. Or metaphor. Or whatever you call it.” She relinquished Chance’s lead to him. “You’re not really in exile. Even if you were once, you’re not anymore.”
“What I am,” he said, “is done answering questions about the past.”
Charlotte didn’t move from where she stood. “I have but one more.”
A muscle spasmed in Magnus’s jaw. He folded his arms, facing her in surly silence from across the kitchen.
For the first time since her arrival, Charlotte appeared to hesitate. A delicate bloom of color rose in her cheeks. “When I left here last week with Miss Champion and the constable…”
“What of it?”
“You kissed my hand when we parted.”
Magnus’s chest constricted. His every instinct told him to beat a hasty retreat, but for the life of him, he couldn’t break free of her gaze.
“Was that only kindness?” she asked.
His heart pounded heavily. No, he wanted to say. It wasn’t kindness at all. It was—
But he didn’t know what it had been
“I suppose,” he answered finally, “that I’d come to feel responsible for you.”
“Responsible,” Charlotte repeated.
“A natural inclination. You were in my charge for a time.”
“But no longer.”
“No,” he agreed. “You’re not my responsibility anymore.”
“So that kiss was—”
“Something of a farewell.”
Charlotte’s chin ticked up. Her blushing countenance was instantly transformed into a look of reproof. “Friendships don’t work that way,” she informed him.
She’d no sooner finished her words than Turner’s hammering suddenly resumed. Strike after brutal strike against the rotting paneling. The walls of the kitchen trembled on their timbers.
Chance milled anxiously around Magnus’s legs. Magnus scarcely noticed him. Charlotte held the whole of his attention.
“Of course it wasn’t a farewell,” she said. “Indeed, it was nothing of the sort.” She regarded him stubbornly from across the kitchen. “So long as I remain in Yorkshire, and so long as you continue to treat me with courtesy, I will continue to visit you. That is what friends do.”
Magnus looked back at her, uncertain whether to give way to a burst of frustration or to an equally inappropriate shout of laughter.
Was there nothing he could say to persuade her that he wasn’t worth her efforts?
She’d seen his estate, his manners (or lack of them), had even learned about his past. And still she remained, steadfast in her own dogged convictions.
“Very well,” he said abruptly. “Come back again. But be warned. The next time you darken my doorstep I shall put you to work.”
Charlotte’s eyes went wide. She gave him a fascinated look. “Doing what, exactly?”
Another hammer strike splintered through one of the upstairs’ walls in timely answer.
Magnus’s mouth quirked grimly. “That.”