Chapter 6

Ethan let out the breath he’d taken, the one that had lodged in his throat as it had tightened with the anticipation of a terrible confession that would dash his hopes. He could accept that Miss Charlotte Mulberry did not have feelings for him yet. It would be much harder to accept that she still had such tender feelings for another.

“Miss Mulberry—Charlotte,” he corrected. “I must confess that I come here with ulterior motives.”

She looked at him quizzically. “What ulterior motives could you possibly have?”

He wanted to say it. But he couldn’t force the words out. Instead, he said, “I brought my curricle. Let us take a drive.” It was an open vehicle and they would be in full view the entire time. There would be no impropriety. Well, not much impropriety. He was hoping for at least a hint of it. Would stealing a kiss truly be so wicked?

“Oh, that sounds quite lovely. I just need to look in on my uncle before we leave.”

She excused herself to do so, and he rose to pace nervously about the small room. What was wrong with him? How difficult was it just to tell a woman you wished to court her? Did he have to court her? Couldn’t he just get to the point and offer marriage? Was it too soon to simply propose to her and be done with it? It was. Of course, it was. He knew that. But impatience had always been something he struggled with. Hadn’t that been the very thing that put him in a terrible mood for seven years? He’d fallen headlong in love with the woman before even ascertaining whether or not she was free.

Thinking of his earlier conversation with Regina, one possibility kept circulating in his mind. What if someone else came along and asked her before he did, just as Arliss Cranford had? Not that there were a great number of bachelors about in Ambleside, but there were enough that he wasn’t entirely without competition for her affections. If he allowed fear to stay his hand, the misery of his future without her was assured.

It wasn’t long before she returned, a shawl draped about her shoulders, a bonnet dangling from her fingertips and ready to depart. Taking her arm, he escorted her outside and helped her up into the conveyance.

“It truly is a fine day,” she said. There was a note of panic in her voice, despite the mundane nature of her statement.

“Charlotte, if you do not wish to go?—.”

“Oh, no! No it isn’t that, at all. I very much want to go for a drive with you. It’s just that… if people see us, they will assume that this signifies some attachment between us. Now I feel so terribly awkward and I’ve no notion what to say or do with myself,” she admitted glumly. “You must think me a complete ninny.”

“I could never think that of you, Charlotte. As for what you should do, the answer is quite simply nothing more than be yourself and speak your mind,” he reassured her. There was nothing he wanted more than for her to feel secure enough with him to be so free with her thoughts.

“I can be quite opinionated, my lo—Ethan. You may wish to retract that offer.”

“You will never be less than perfect in my eyes.”

“I am so very far from perfect!” she protested, clearly uncomfortable with such praise. “That is an impossible standard to meet.”

“No, it isn’t,” he insisted. “Perfection, Charlotte, is defined solely by what you are. Anything and anyone else would pale in comparison.”

Her lips parted, forming a soft ‘o’ of surprise. But she didn’t say anything in response. And he wondered if perhaps he hadn’t made a fatal mistake and said far too much, too soon.

Charlotte was still stunned. They had driven through the village, down to the lake, around the remains of the Roman fort and were now heading back. He’d been pleasant, charming even. Still relatively taciturn, it was quite obvious that he was making a great effort to be a conversationist for her benefit. There was no evidence at all of the moodiness that others had often accused him of. And his effusive praise of her was something she had never encountered—not from anyone. Even Arliss had always seemed to think her very, very ordinary. Charlotte was used to being overlooked. She was simply there, like a piece of furniture or a sturdy tree.

“Why do you think I’m perfect? Why the sudden change?”

She hadn’t meant to ask the question. It simply slipped out. But as he glanced at her before turning back to the road, she saw a flash of something in his gaze.

“It is not a sudden change. I have always thought you perfect. From our first meeting onward. But you were not free and I am not a man dishonorable enough to flatter and pursue a woman promised to another,” he said.

One word stood out to her. “Pursue? To what end?”

“I’m doing this very badly. I’ve never actually paid court to a lady before, and quite frankly, the process is beyond me. I’d much rather just have it all out in the open and be done with it.”

“Have what out in the open?” She could not quite fathom what he was saying. Oh, on the surface the words made sense, but how those words related to her own life just did not mesh.

He pulled back on the reins, the curricle halting in the middle of the roadway as he looked at her. “I’ve sat quietly by, watching you languish while Cranford did everything else in the world except marry you.”

“You wish to marry me?” she repeated, not entirely certain that she’d heard him correctly.

“Ultimately, yes. I think it would benefit us both to have some time together first, though certainly not seven years.”

“But you hardly know me,” she protested. “How could you possibly have formed such a certain opinion of me when we’ve barely spoken?” Surely she had slipped into some sort of fevered madness that this impossibly handsome, titled and wealthy gentleman was professing to having suffered from some unrequited longing for her!

“No, we did not speak very often. Because I did not trust myself to speak to you and not reveal my inappropriate feelings for you given your understanding with another. But I did watch you.” The words tumbled out of him, like a great flood, as if perhaps they had been dammed up for so long and were now released with a significant force. “For seven years. Seven. And I saw and heard all I needed to in order to know that my fondness for you was well founded.”

Charlotte felt a strange fluttering in her heart. “What exactly did you see and hear?”

“Your unwavering kindness,” he said, his voice ringing with conviction. “I know that you take very tender care of your sometimes cantankerous uncle. I know that I have never heard you say a single negative thing about another person… even when those people do not deserve your regard. I know that you have dignity and grace. And I know that you are more beautiful today than when I first saw you. And if I am blessed enough to look upon you in twenty or thirty years, you will be more beautiful still.”

It was impossible to even draw breath. He’d always been a man of few words, and yet when he elected to speak, he did so very eloquently. She’d never had anyone see her as he apparently did. There was such certainty in his impassioned statement. Seven years?

“Seven years,” he repeated.

Charlotte realized she’d spoken aloud and blushed furiously. “I had no idea. You never gave any indication.”

“Nor would I have,” he said decisively. “That is not until Cranford behaved so unforgivably to you. He did not deserve you then, and he certainly would never deserve you now. I do not deserve you either, but I am smart enough to know it and be grateful for your generous nature. And, if you ever agree to marry me, I promise that I will be smart enough not to wait seven years to get you to the altar. As soon as the banns had been read and we could legally do so, I’d have you at the front of the church reciting our vows.”

“Are you proposing?” Charlotte asked.

“That depends entirely upon whether or not you’d accept,” he replied.

She wanted to say yes. But would she be agreeing for the right reasons?

Charlotte took a deep breath. “I am a practical woman, as you have said. I’m nearly six and twenty and the opportunities to have a husband and a family of my own are ever shrinking. That is not to say I would accept just any man. I would not. But…are you certain you wish to marry when it appears your feelings for me are quite well set while mine for you are only just beginning?”

“I’m certain I wish to marry you… however I may and whenever I may. Shall we speak to the vicar about posting our banns, Charlotte?”

Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but found herself unable to do so. Instead, she simply shook her head.

“I see. Then I shall escort you home and I will not bother you again,” he said.

“No!” The word came out more as a shout than a reasonable protest. “That isn’t what I meant. I only meant that I cannot say yes today. You’ve had seven years to think about this. I’ve had two days. And while practicality demands I accept, it also demands that we at least have something resembling a courtship first.”

Ethan couldn’t stop the smile that curved his cheeks. “Will the end of Mrs. Whitlow’s house party be too soon to repeat the question?”

“That is one week from today and we will be in attendance there for no less than a week. I should think that a fortnight would be sufficient time,” Charlotte agreed.

“I know your uncle does not have a carriage. Does he mean to attend the house party?”

“Oh, heavens no. My uncle will never leave Ambleside. Not for any reason. He thinks the perimeter of this village is the beginning and end of the entire world.”

Relief rushed through him. It would be another opportunity to spend time with her. “Then, you must ride with us in my carriage. I shall bring my sister to provide adequate chaperonage… And that will give us more time to get to know one another.” Especially as Regina hated traveling and always took a sleeping draught before hand to avoid travel sickness.

“That is very kin?—”

“It is not kind. Do not say it. It is wholly selfish and I am both perfectly aware of that and perfectly fine with it,” he said. “By keeping you with me, and escorting you to the party, I’m staking a claim—I don’t want there to be any mistaking my intentions toward you. And if that makes me a possessive brute, then so be it.”

“It doesn’t. Well, maybe it does. But I find that do not mind it. Not in the least,” she replied.

Ethan looked about. They were alone in the lane, shielded by copses of trees on both sides. It wasn’t the perfect opportunity he had hoped for, but it was the best one to present itself yet. Pulling back on the reins until the horse came a to stop, he looped the reins around the brake before reaching for her.

Cupping her cheek gently in one hand, he traced the delicate curve of it with his thumb before leaning in and capturing her lips.

Soft, sweet, pliant—but the kiss was still deliciously carnal. Though perhaps that had more to do with his own desires than the kiss itself, but also shockingly innocent. Almost, he thought, as though she had never been kissed. After seven years betrothed, had Arliss Cranford never taken even the slightest liberty? Not that he minded, but he was certainly surprised by it.

The sound of approaching horses prompted him to break the contact, though very reluctantly. He drew back and noted the stunned expression on her face. But they could not simply sit there and discuss it. Not with others approaching. Taking up the reins once more, the horse immediately started forward at a slow, steady pace.

“In all that time, he never kissed you. Not even once?”

Charlotte blushed and ducked her head. “No. I suppose I should have known then that something was terribly wrong.”

“I’m very glad that he never kissed you. I’m doubly glad to be the first man who has.”