Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

Charlotte waited for a beat in the carriage, pressing the back of her glove against her mouth, unsure if she were to be sick or if she were merely tired. She hadn’t slept in nearly three days.

She hadn’t done much of anything after Ian left.

Sure, she had pretended then to be all iron and brute strength, but inside she had been crumbling. Inside, that horrible nagging emptiness had emerged again, urging her to follow her head and not her heart.

And so she had.

And so, after he left, she remained in bed for a few days before continuing the trip to London. And when she had stepped out of bed, she sat at the window for hours, watching, barely moving. Stuck and waiting.

Ian had left as she had asked.

Where? She didn’t know.

London didn’t hold anything for her except a hug from her dearest friend in the world.

“Your Grace?” the driver asked, holding his hand out to help her out of the carriage.

Charlotte pulled on a smile and stepped out, glancing up at the gloomy June evening hovering over Town. The black storm clouds appeared as cheerful as she felt.

Lily and Rafe had recently moved into a much larger home in Portman Square, not far from Charlotte’s home in Mayfair. It might be silly, but she didn’t wish to be alone.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” the butler answered. “Please come in. It appears it will rain any moment.”

“Thank you,” she said, peeking up once more at the brewing storm clouds, then stepped inside and was instantly met with what could only be best described as pure and utter chaos.

Lily was standing at the end of the hallway, covered in flour, waving her hands dramatically at the housekeeper as the boys yelled…

Rafe ran from the dining room to her right and dove, tackling Mr. Hawkins into the sitting room as the boys jumped up and down wearing folded newspaper hats.

“He sank our ship, Papa! Don’t let him get away.”

The two grown men grunted and flipped, before Rafe fell back and hit his head on the sofa.

“Mrs. Davies,” the butler interrupted, unaffected.

“One moment,” she said, glancing back toward Charlotte in the front hall. Then once more before she stopped and ran toward Charlotte, throwing her arms around her.

“Everyone, leave,” Lily ordered, her arms still wrapped around Charlotte. “Or I will make you walk the plank.”

She pulled back enough to glance at her husband, wagging her finger in warning. “No jokes.”

He wagged his eyebrows, lifting his hands in surrender and helped Liam to his feet. But his business partner swatted his hand away as Adain jumped onto his back and knocked the man flat to the floor.

“Boys,” Lily warned again.

Through all the madness, Charlotte clutched Lily, holding on as if she were the last tether before she fell to pieces.

“Rafe.” Lily didn’t let go. “Please take the boys and play somewhere else for a moment. ”

He nodded and gathered the boys and Liam, and they left, leaving Charlotte and Lily in the hall.

Charlotte backed up and looked at her friend, her eyes already welling with tears. As she bit back a sob, Lily nodded as if she knew what had happened, brushed her forehead, and looked down at her skirts. “I am a mess. Oh, and look,” she reached out and brushed off Charlotte’s gown, “Now I have flour on your beautiful purple gown. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Lottie.”

Charlotte shook her head. A little flour was the least of the problems she faced at the moment.

“Well, come in, come sit down.” She brought Charlotte into the drawing room, pausing for a moment under a painting of a large ship, before thinking better of it. “Actually, I feel as if this is a conversation for upstairs. Follow me. Mind the ladders and the missing floorboards.” She tossed her hands up in the air, laughing as she navigated her way up a half-demolished grand staircase. “This house is either going to fall in on us or bankrupt us. I’m not sure why I let Rafe talk me into thinking buying this old mansion was a good idea.”

“It’s beautiful,” Charlotte said, hit with a wistful sentimentality.

Rafe and Lily were building a home together.

“It will be once it’s finished,” Lily said, “but right now it’s nothing but a death trap. You know the boys. I am certain someone is always going to fall and cut their head open or break an arm. I swear these boys are made of something different—they take after their father. They never cease moving or yelling. I feel as if I am doing them a disservice by being so far from the sea.”

As they reached the landing, Lily turned. “You look exhausted, Lottie. I knew once you walked in the door that something was the matter. You wouldn’t have visited otherwise.” She stopped, dropping her face into her hands. “No, let me rephrase that. It’s not as if you wouldn’t have come to visit normally. You are always welcome here. But you are alone, and it appears like you’ve been crying for days, and you don’t look the least bit happy. The last time I saw you, you had a lovestruck smile stuck to your face.”

No, love. You deserve for everyone to see you tonight .

Charlotte began to sob. Lily shut the door behind her and guided her friend to the chaise by the window.

“What’s happened, Lottie?” Lily braced her hands on Charlotte’s arms and sank to her knees, gazing up at Charlotte.

“He left,” she said at last. “He asked what I wanted, and I told him to leave, and he left.”

“Really?” Lily asked, puzzled for a moment. “I feel as if I am missing some of the story.”

Charlotte nodded, quickly wiping her eyes and sucking in a deep breath. Despite the fact that she cried often, she hated crying. It was only that she felt everything much more deeply than her friends. She felt the good and the bad in a way that was almost too big for her to contain. Others either thought her too sensitive or grew uncomfortable at her crying.

She hated that she couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard she tried. If she were sad, then she cried. If she was furious, eventually she would cry. And if something happy happened, she would cry tears of joy.

Kate had once mentioned that being able to feel so deeply and be vulnerable was a great strength of Charlotte’s, and she had felt it to be a curse most of her life.

She sighed, unsure of what to say or perhaps too exhausted.

“We had an argument, and before we could talk it out, I left furious, and then he found me,” she laughed at the recollection. “Anyway,” she continued, “he burst through the doors and came searching for me. He begged on his knees to come in, to talk to me, and I stood there, furious, heartbroken all the same. I pretended as if I didn’t care, as if my heart wasn’t there, broken along with his. He said he only wanted for me to be happy.

“And if I couldn’t be happy with him, then he would proceed with the divorce I asked for. I didn’t stop him. I asked him to leave, and he left, and now I’m here in London by myself. I can’t stomach the idea of returning to our home, a few streets away, because he won’t be there. And the last time he was there, it became more than a house. I found love there, the damnedest thing, Lily. I think, no, I know I love my husband. I know I love him, have loved him, and he hurt me all the same. I’m here, and he is gone. He’s gone, and I don’t know where he went. But if I could find him, would I forgive him?”

Lily interrupted. “For whatever he did?”

Charlotte paused. “Since his return, he has shown me a kind of love I never thought I would experience, certainly not as a wallflower. I had waited years for his attention, and suddenly he returned. At first, I thought nothing had changed, but after my accident, he had, and surely, I think, he proved to me that he had loved me all along. Our parting was messy and, in many ways, immature. We both had our pride hurt, but our hearts were both broken. And I know when I married him that day, I was marrying him out of love, not obligation or to seek out the title of duchess. But I was never sure if it was the same for him.

“And I think since he’s returned, I still worry he’s here out of obligation. That I am not a woman to love, but a wife to provide him with the heir that the title needs.”

She wiped her eyes again and shrugged her shoulders, blinking back at Lily. Her friend reached out and brushed back her hair.

“ Oof, I am terribly sorry. I shouldn’t just barge into your home and dump all my troubles on you.”

“Stop, stop. Charlotte?”

She gazed back at her friend, exhausted and broken.

“No apologies. Lord knows Kate and I have sought out your advice plenty of times. You might have lost your parents, but I am still your family. Kate and I, and lord help us, Rafe and Gabriel. For better or worse, we will love you and stand by you. And if you want to come into my home and tell me everything that has you upset, I will sit here and gladly listen because I love you.”

Once, that would have been difficult for Charlotte to hear, but today, a soft, sad smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

Family .

Yes, by chasing her heart, she had lost so much, but she had also gained more than she could have imagined.

Lily smiled in kind, then bumped her shoulder against Charlotte. “Love is never easy. ”

“No. It’s as if my heart goes one way, and my head goes another, and I can’t reconcile them. I can’t seem to move past what happened. And we had so desperately tried to. I don’t wish to be stuck in that place anymore. I wish… I wish to be back in that ballroom. Not the night we met eight years ago, but dancing with the man he became a few weeks ago, dancing in his arms as the woman I’ve grown into. It was like all London finally saw me, and they didn’t dare say a bad thing for once.

“Whether they did or not, it didn’t matter because Ian was never going to allow them to hurt me. And it seems like such a small thing to be hung up on, but I loved that feeling. I loved that feeling of being held and safe and seen.

“And I wanted more of that, and I think I was scared. I was scared that if I stayed with him, he would only end up breaking my heart. But at some point, one day, he would look me in the eye and leave after we had a son. I don’t…” She dropped her head into her hands. “Clearly, I know I cannot tolerate that because he’s left, and I am here, a mess. I am the worst sort of friend to come barging in.”

“No, no, of course not, Lottie,” Lily said. “This is what I think we shall do.” And Lily stood up, wiping her face, brushing off her flour smeared skirts.

“It’s nearly dinnertime. Mr. Hawkins is here. You know him well enough. I’m sure he won’t mind another dinner companion if you don’t. I think it best to have something to eat. Then I can have someone draw you a bath afterward, and you can spend the night here with us. In the morning, after some tea, we will come up with a plan.”

“Lilybell,” Charlotte said. “Thank you. But I have one pressing question.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you covered in flour?”