Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Wentworth Estate

Charlotte hunched forward to relieve the ache in her lower back. She looked across the room to the mirror. Her hair was in an up style with a stylish bun at the back and curls down the sides of her face. The royal blue dress she wore made her green eyes sparkle like emeralds. She had been playing the harp for almost an hour now and could barely feel her fingertips any longer.

"Can we please stop for today Nanny?" Charlotte pleaded with the sour-faced old lady in charge of her care.

"Not until you can play it properly, so no, you may not stop for today," her nanny said as she put a hand to her grey hair. Her nanny had been with her since Charlotte was a baby. Her once young hands had held her close as an infant.

"Oh why must you be so unfair to me. It's not like I'm actually used to all this. Back home I used to spend my days exploring the beautiful outdoors. Here in this prison I am expected to be proper and do ridiculous things the likes of playing the harp." Charlotte said with frustration.

"A real lady must have certain skills or she will spend her days as a spinster," her nanny said, her hazel eyes wide with warning.

"Sounds like a better idea than to do all this just to impress a man." Charlotte said clearly upset.

"And how will you live, dear? You don't own land nor are you allowed to. Then to add to that, what skills do you have that would see you hold down a job? You will be on the streets for your stubborn ways," her nanny said in a kinder voice.

The cold truth splashed water all over the fire that burned in Charlotte. The unhappiness of it all was a condition she found the most difficult to overcome.

Just as Charlotte sighed and positioned her hands to start playing again. They heard a tap at the door. Charlotte smiled at the respite. She didn't think her back could take sitting in the same chair any longer.

Her nanny took her time to answer it. When she did, Charlotte found that her curiosity overwhelmed her.

Charlotte leaned toward the door in order to better hear what the conversation between her nanny and the maid servant at the door might be about. She leaned a little too much. Her feet that were under her chair could not find a place to stand with the fabric of her dress in the way. She corrected herself and was seated properly when her nanny returned.

"Your father wishes to see you in his study." She announced. "Go…" she added when Charlotte did not react to the news as she would have wanted.

"Thank you Nanny. It is an improvement over this boring playing," she said merrily as she made her escape.

I wonder what father wants? I do hope he will take me on another voyage with him. Charlotte wondered as she happily made her way to her father.

This might be about what I heard them speak about earlier. Surely they didn't mean immediately! Charlotte gave it some thought as she took pause just before her father's study. She gathered her nerves and made the last few steps to the door.

The door to her father's study as slightly ajar. "Hello? Father?" She called inside the room.

"Do come in dear girl," Lord Wentworth said in an overly happy way that sent the hairs at the back of her neck upright.

"What did you call me here for father?"

"There's a very exciting development my dear girl." Lord Wentworth said as he got up from his chair behind his desk.

"What is it father?" Charlotte asked nervously when he took too long to share his news.

"I'm going to take you to meet a wonderful man. He is a good family friend and will make a fine husband," Lord Wentworth went on hastily.

She tried not to let her father see her face. She felt weak and was sure it showed her face.

"Father is there no other way? What about Bethany? She wants to be wed where as I…" Her words died in her throat as she saw the anger in her father's eyes. She had been given more chances at freedom than most, at least when it had come to her father. There were times it was unwise to push one's luck, this was one of those times.

"Little bug, please understand that this is what I truly believe will give you the chance of a real future. The courtship will last a month, if you find he isn't a good match then we will find you another." Lord Wentworth gently put his index finger under her chin to make her look at him.

Tears brimmed in her eyes she stepped forward to embrace her father. "I love you."

"And I love you." Lord Wentworth said, his tone sincere. "I'm doing this because I will not always be here to protect you. I would never want to be rid of you."

"I know." Charlotte choked out. All she had ever wanted was to see her father happy. Yes, he had shown poor judgment, then again her very life came into being because of it. To most it might seem like a curse. To Charlotte it was magical and overflowing with possibilities. She would make the most of it as she did with most things in life.

Lord Wentworth held onto his child, who he'd no longer have the luxury of seeing daily.

"We must pack. I will have the maids ready to assist you" Lord Wentworth said and turned to leave.

"Daddy what are those red ones?" Charlotte's six-year-old voice echoed in her own mind.

"Those are apples, my dear girl," her father had answered.

"What are they for?" She had asked with interest.

"They make the best pastries. Here, why don't you try one?" he had said, lifting her onto his shoulders. She had giggled as she had wrestled with the tree. The apple had been heavier than she had thought it would be. The apple had fallen out of her hand and had hit her father on his temple. He had laughed so boldly that he had almost fallen over.

What I would give to have just one of those days over again. I should have enjoyed being young more than I had...

For the first time, Charlotte found herself resentful of her stepsister, Bethany. She would have been a better fit for this. She craved leaving and starting her own life. While Charlotte still had further to go.

She sat in the old gardens—she had always loved them at night, imagining the life she might have ahead of her. She sensed that there was someone standing behind her. She took a deep breath and turned to see who it was. She was alone and there were no other people about. Yet, she could not put aside the notion that someone was watching her.

She moved from where she was seated to ensure her family were safe. She went to her stepmother's room to find her having her hair brushed. Next, she went to find Bethany and found her doing embroidery in the sitting room. She then went to find her father and hoped that she would not find him heartbroken.

Charlotte looked for her father, starting with all his favorite places. First, she went to the library and then his art room.

Her gaze wondered to the stables and she noticed the lamp burning inside. Her pace quickened as it dawned on her that it might be her father. She made her way inside to see her father sitting in the fresh feed. Her horse's head in his lap, as if she understood Charlotte was leaving.

"You have me and the entire manor out looking for you!" she yelled. Her frustration at the situation and fear that he would be harmed had taken her as close to madness as she had ever been. "I'm sorry, Father, I should not have raised my voice. But I could not find you."

"I am sorry bug." He looked up. "Perhaps you could have someone bring her to you once you are more settled in your new home," Lord Wentworth said, with less joy than usual.

"Perhaps." She echoed his sentiment sadly and walked away to pack her things.

"Charlotte." Lord Wentworth called after her. She turned to face him and smiled.

"Don't look so unhappy, Father. I will visit so often that you would hardly know I had left," she said in a brave voice, knowing, as usual, what he was thinking.

Charlotte took the longest way back to the house, to take in the grounds one last time. Instead of taking the direct path, she walked closer to the property line. From there she could see their entire home. It all looked so small now, and it had been home her entire life. She hoped she could be back home soon or at the very least be able to have her horse with her.

I wonder if the duke is a kind man. I hope he's handsome at least. I have a month to decide and the choice to come home. If the duke doesn't honor my father's wishes, then he isn't the type of man I wish to marry.

Charlotte was desperately trying to come to terms with her immediate future.

Her mind went to the thought that she would soon be in the position to have the family she had always wanted. One that she had vowed wouldn't feel the resentments she had felt as a child and even still today. She came near the main house when she saw her sister. It pained her that she would sooner walk past her than bother to say goodbye.

"What has you smiling so joyfully?" Bethany asks from a nearby tree.

"The future is full of possibilities," Charlotte said without her usual smile.

"How sure are you, dear sister?" Bethany said the endearment as though it was an insult. "Why would anyone want to marry you? No, your fortune comes from the duke thinking he's to wed the true heir of our family. I do hope he's not too upset when he finds himself imprisoned to a commoner."

Bethany walked away as she said that last remark. She loved to make Charlotte feel less than she was at every turn.

Her mother is the same. I'm glad I'm not born from that hag! My father cares for her. It is all that keeps her here. Charlotte thought angrily and disliked that they had the ability to vex her out of her usual good graces.

Charlotte walked to all of her favorite places in the gardens. She made sure to visit the family grave site and the old apple trees in the orchid. There were many other trees growing full of fruit. None of them brought her as many fond memories as the red apple tree.

The sun set behind the faraway hills making them appear blue. It was a stark reminder that her time at home was running out. She made her way inside to get her things and choose the dress she was to meet her future husband in. She had packed all her best clothes, her favorite books and her watercolor set. It was difficult to know what to take with her.

A special dinner had been arranged as a farewell for Charlotte. The guests were close friends only and family. She knew her father meant well, she felt unsure that she had the strength to get through a dinner. She bathed and dressed while maid servants attended her hair, and clasped on the jewelry she had selected for the evening.

Charlotte made her way from her room and down the large hallway that led to the rest of the manor. A man stepped in front of her blocking her path.

"Excuse me sir." Charlotte said politely.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" Lord LeBlanc said in a way that made Charlotte uneasy.

"An old friend wouldn't expect the payment of a human being for their kindness." Charlotte said and tried to move around him. He grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"How dare you. We are hardly as familiar to one another that you may touch me!" Charlotte exclaimed aghast.

"You should show more gratitude for not letting your family live on the streets." He said as he sneered at her.

"My family has been deeply grateful to yours. That does not give you any right to behave in an unseemly manner." Charlotte said more steadily.

"Says the daughter of the women who had to beg for a place to stay," he replied.

It was the truth. The reminder was unnecessary as the memories of all the more difficult times stuck with her. Her mother had gone all over the world seeking fame. She had taken Charlotte with her. Her mother had tastes that she could ill afford. Soon they had no place to stay.

Too embarrassed to return to her husband, she had asked for help. It was in those times that Charlotte had learned that most people would not help you for free. Lord LeBlanc moved to let Charlotte go and she needed no further invitation. She decided to pretend he had not attended this evening.

The guests waited in the dining hall with drinks in hand. She may be the guest of honor but she was still expected to provide the entertainment for the evening. The cursed harp stood triumphantly nestled in a corner of the room. Charlotte greeted her guests and made her way to the small stool that waited close to the harp.

Charlotte took her time getting herself seated. The eager faces of her guests annoyed her more than it enthused her to play. She chose the most complicated piece of music to play. A new offering from Beethoven that celebrated England's triumph over the French. Though her heritage lay with both sides, she felt equally defeated by her existence in England. Her thoughts were more with prisoners of war than the victorious English.

Charlotte despised having to practice playing an instrument for hours yet found that she could get lost in thought on the wings of music. The guests showed their appreciation with soft applause before turning to sit at the table.

Charlotte enjoyed fish soup as little as most did. She had pretended to adore it the moment she had learned her stepmother couldn't stomach it. When the plate was set before Charlotte, she waited to see Lady Wentworth put on her best performance to date.

She somehow managed to look on the verge of fainting and running away at the same time. It made having to eat the food worth it. The next course had potatoes served with game meat. The recent scarcity of potatoes made them socially acceptable to consume with meals.

Charlotte adored their more simple taste where the guests ate them with less relish. The meat was the freshest cut of the best meat on the animal. The hind quarter had been salted and stored for cooking. The salt and added spice had permeated into the inner layers. The result was a perfectly seasoned and preserved meat that fell apart on the fork.

Lord Wentworth stood up from his place at the table. "Dessert will now be served," he announced as several servants flood the room. One servant pushed a cart into the room. On top of it, the silver dome concealed their treat. "We have a new delicacy for your pleasure this evening. Fresh cream is poured on ice along with sugar. Watch as the cream transforms into something wonderful."

The guests all craned their necks to get a better look. The whole process of freezing the cream instantly on ice had them all gasping in awe.

It seemed almost an afterthought that the desert had been planned as a special way to bid farewell to Charlotte. Lord Wentworth spent more of the evening ensuring his guests were duly impressed rather than celebrating a new chapter in his daughter's life.

No matter how important of a title one had, one was always at the mercy of social opinion. The dinner had ended all too soon and Charlotte could only prepare herself for what was to come. The night was spent getting her things into suitcases and ensuring she would have everything she needed at hand.

The servants had prepared the carriage. A task that would take hours and could by no means be achieved any sooner than a minimum of three hours. Charlotte had barely slept the night before. Every worry she had tucked away now tormented her in her sleep.

By the time she awoke from bothered sleep, it was as though she had never slept. She had little recollection of how she had gotten dressed. When she said her goodbyes to her stepsister and stepmother, she felt bewildered—everything around her felt surreal.

Charlotte took a deep breath and let go of her father's shoulders. It could no longer be helped. It was time to go.

"I've got my best driver looking after you. Don't stop until you get to your destination. Charlotte, be happy," Lord Wentworth said, his voice unstable from the deep emotions closing his throat.

"I shall be right behind you and stay with you for the first week or so, as what is proper. Unfortunately, then I am needed in Halifax, they managed to flood the bottom bed on the mine. Dirty business coal, the coal itself and those who flood competitors shafts. I would be surprised if it was an accident."

"Thank you, Papa." Charlotte choked out. She used the name she called him as a little girl. She could see it's impact on him, his expressions softening… perhaps transported back to s simpler time. A time they both now regretted not having enjoyed more. She looked back as he watched her being helped into the carriage, stepping closer to wave goodbye.

It may have only been a two-day trip, but it was extremely dangerous to travel by carriage. Between carriages coming from opposite sides and causing accidents, wild animals such as wolves made any stop for repairs nearly impossible.

Then if travelers made it through most of the journey they had to contend with robbers. Charlotte was helped into her carriage. She looked outside the window as they pulled away and hoped she would not have to see Bethany or her stepmother again.

The duke had invited both of them to his estate. It was proper that she should have a suitable chaperone. The Wentworth family had taken on the habits of other families by traveling in more than one carriage.

By going so it would limit harm to passengers by only carrying one at a time. Furthermore, if one carriage took on damages then standing still for repairs could be avoided. As carriages were not an inexpensive item, it soon became a symbol of status.

Charlotte tried to find a comfortable way to settle in for the long journey. Her heartbeat seemed to pound so that her entire body felt every beat.

This might be a two day journey. It would help if my heart knew it too. I've not so much as held a man's hand. What am I going to do when I meet the duke? Charlotte felt fear grip her. If the duke was a cruel man, she would be trapped and at his mercy, she thought with despair.

Charlotte tried to stand up. She needed to pace around to calm down. The moment she almost got to her feet, she hit her head on the carriage roof with a loud thump.

To make matters worse, the carriage had halted abruptly throwing Charlotte down onto her knees.

"Driver. Why have we stopped? You have direct orders not to stop." Charlotte yelled so that he could hear her. She waited for an answer to no avail. Charlotte leaned out of the carriage window to speak to the man. "Driver why are we…" Charlotte did not speak another word when she saw what laid before them.

Chapter 4

By the time the duke decided to get up the next morning, a letter had been sent to him in response. The duke ensured that he could not be seen by anyone. He entered through the servants entrance and took his horse to the stables.

He usually liked to tend to the horses he rode, yet found his enthusiasm wavering. The duke handed the leather straps to a man servant and accepted a letter presented to him on a silver tray. He read the letter sent from Wentworth Manor with a mixture of excitement and disbelief.

He made his way into the main house in search of food and a chance to read the letter properly, he spotted Cecil enjoying a morning tea and hastily went to get his wheelchair. He made his way back to Cecil to join him once he had. "They are actually coming here. I had expected him to go back on his word. She's on her way now." He told Cecil after an explanation of the situation.

"That should keep Tristan's mouth quiet." Cecil remarked with a smirk.

"Are you still on about that?" the duke asked with a smile.

"I'm afraid so. Nasty sort really you know, new money," Cecil replied.

"I've met a few families with newly acquired wealth. Quite pleasant, educated people. No Tristan is just the way he is, and we are thankful he is an only child," the duke said with an unfailing joy he hadn't felt since his accident.

"You are too kind Henry." Cecil said. "Oh, did you hear what has happened on the trail?

"No what happened?" The duke asked remembering that Lord Wentworth and his daughter were still on their way.

"There was an attack, well of sorts anyway. People are saying there is a beast about. Common sense says they had an accident and wolves found them."

"That is terrible news," the duke replied, his voice a bit nervous.

"Oh, I am sorry. I forgot she was still on her way. I am sure she will arrive here safely…" Cecil replied.

"I do hope so." The duke was even more ill at ease than before.

"In answer to your earlier statement, I am not always kind," Henry remarked, as he tried to lift their spirits. "Besides, rather a kind fool than as greedy as most."

"There's no threat of that. Now for the important details. What does your future bride look like?" Cecil asked with a smirk.

The duke burst out laughing. "To be honest it was so long ago that I can hardly remember her. I do recall she was a handsome woman at least. Her father wants me to agree to a courtship of one month. I rather like the idea of getting to know the women I'm meant to spend the rest of my life with."

"I agree. I don't mean to pry, how did she react to your condition?" Cecil tried to ask the delicate question.

"I'm unsure. I do know her father will honor our agreement," the duke said still in awe. Cecil gave his old friend a strange look then turned away before he asked him to explain its origin.

"I'm well aware that I'm not a prize catch. I do however deserve a chance at happiness, wouldn't you say?" Henry asked his friend, quite seriously.

"Of course you do, I'm just concerned for you." Cecil replied.

A sudden look of horror swept across the duke's face. "I have no idea how to even begin to prepare." He said aghast. "How do I receive her? What do I even say to her?" He asked, every word filled with more dread than the last.

"First, you have at least a full day until her arrival. You will need a chaperone as well. They will show you what to do to stay within the rules of courtship." Cecil offered.

"You are a married man Cecil. Would you serve as my chaperone?"

"Me?"Cecil asked, surprised.

"Please."

"It's been so many years. I have little knowledge of new rules and legislations that might have passed since."Cecil explained.

"Right so you are just as afraid." The duke laughed.

"I accept." Cecil replied with a crooked grin. He had known the duke would coerce him into agreement by claiming he couldn't or was too afraid to accomplish a task.

"Have the servants draw you a bath, we need to do something about your hair. You need to look your best when you meet your future intended." Cecil went on.

"What will you be doing?" The duke asked.

"Going home to ask my wife to help welcome the future Duchess." Cecil replied.

"That is most kind," Henry said before he put his household to work. Within a few short hours the estate was busy as a hive. Servants carried out their tasks at a fevered pace. Long forgotten parts of the estate grounds now had a second chance of being nurtured.

When the duke was finished dressing from day wear to evening wear, he asked that his chair be placed near the window. He had thought the gardens had looked beautiful before. Looking at the trees that made a canopy over the road that entered the estate. They had been cut neatly and all the old leaves cut off and taken away. The duke felt as though he had been given a similar new lease on life. Yet worry snaked its way into his happy thoughts.

Will she love this place as much as I do? Will she want to leave the moment she sets eyes on me? I cannot let her know the truth either. The right woman will love me regardless of my capabilities. What if she doesn't even want to stay if I do tell her the truth? No matter it will show me who I can trust.

The duke's mind tormented him.

Tomorrow she will arrive here with her father. These worries are ones I can let rest till the courtship has come to an end.

How can I be so gloomy when I'm hours away from having the company of a women. Now this is a reason to throw a dinner party! The duke tried to change his perspective.

The duke let himself dream of what it could be like having company. He had become so accustomed to being alone and doing things his way that he knew already that hardship lay ahead. He would have to spend time with her and found it hard to imagine what he could say that would genuinely be of interest to her.

He made his way to his sleeping quarters, willing the next day to come into existence earlier. He asked for his dinner to be taken to him. After a few quick bites he dismissed the food and servants and attempted to sleep.

Rest came sooner than he anticipated. His dreams mixed the past with the present and had him awakening several times during the night. When he finally did sleep quietly and soundly, it was only two hours before sunrise. He almost forgot himself and sprung from his bed in the excitement of it all.

He waited to hear footsteps on the floorboards outside his sleeping quarters before calling out for assistance. Today he could not wait to start the day.

I haven't even met her and my life has become less dull and dark, he thought with amazement.

He busied himself in his study but the sun in the sky did not give an inch to his opinion.

Will she get here already. I do hope she has had a safe journey.

He hoped she hadn't run into the same kind of men they had.

Then he heard the distant sound of galloping horses. He lived in the countryside near very busy roads. Now that traveling was about more than getting from one place to another and more about the pleasure of travel, carriages could be heard at all times of the day. Every time his ears would perk to the sound of one, it seemed to just go past the estate. When the next one came close, he ignored it.

The large main entrance gate moaned as they were opened to allow the carriage inside the estate grounds. The duke's mouth went dry with shock.

She's here, it's time! His mind raced.

He tried to find something to do with his hands while he was taken to meet his guests.

The duke had known he would be at a loss the moment his guests arrived. He could however not be forewarned that he would lose his ability to think let alone speak to greet the gorgeous creature before him.

It's her! The women that Lord Wells had set his sights on. Those mesmerizing green eyes and that smile, God help me. The duke's mind screamed at him.

The awkwardness of meeting ones intended for the first time was magnified by the twist of fate. The duke had no idea how the woman who had haunted him since was now to be his bride. The same disbelief seemed to have taken hold of the young woman. They stared at each other until Charlotte smiled at him and he returned it. Lord Wentworth looked from his daughter to the duke hoping to understand the sudden silence.

Lord Wentworth broke the silence and made the introductions. The duke was still completely lost for words. The moments dragged on as they waited patiently for him to speak. The sweat beaded at his temples as he willed his mouth to produce saliva. Lord Wentworth stood nearby and barely spoke.

Charlotte smiled at him hoping to put him at ease. It had the opposite affect and made him even more panicked.