Chapter 12

Chapter 12

William didn't expect to reveal so much about himself within minutes of speaking with his wife. He wanted to apologize and offer her a tour of his home and grounds, but she had appeared so disarming in her pale blue dress, pale golden hair cascading down her shoulders and biting her lower lip, that he had abandoned his plan like a weakling.

However, it had worked in his favor. Charlotte softened toward him, and she even smiled at him. William didn't think he would ever see her smile directed at him but was thankfully wrong.

"I cannot wait for your pineapple crop to ripen," she said as they walked toward the house. "I adore the fruit. I find it eats away at my tongue, so our cooks at home rub salt all over it before washing it away. It takes away the sting."

"Indeed?" he asked.

Charlotte nodded. "I do not know who came to that conclusion and how, but I'm very grateful. I intend to gorge myself on pineapple until I can hardly look at another until the following year."

William chuckled. His wife was very cheerful, talkative, and bright. He thought women like that would annoy him, but it was quite the opposite. Hearing her voice was soothing, and he enjoyed her chatter. It saved him from having to fill any gaps in their conversation. William likely would not admit this to anyone, but he was somewhat nervous.

Charlotte was a beautiful woman who sparkled like the finest and purest jewels. His stepmother must have picked the diamond among eligible women because he hadn't met anyone more attractive. It was a little intimidating, especially when he hardly had experience speaking with women. He was a military man, and unlike Gregory, he had not chased every skirt he saw.

"Do you like pineapple?" Charlotte asked, drawing his attention.

"I like it," he said. "A few chilled slices on a hot summer's day is lovely."

"Have you had it in a fruit salad?"

"I do not believe I have," he said. "But I'm open to eating a fruit salad with pineapple."

Charlotte nodded. "I'll make a note of it for summer," she said. "Now, which direction will we take first? The more history involved, the better."

"This house is filled with decades of history," William assured her. "Would you like to start from top to bottom or the other way around?"

"Bottom to top," she said. "We're already here, so we might as well begin our tour from the foyer."

"Then the Rose Parlor will be our first room," he said. "It was my mother's favorite. Fortunately, my stepmother didn't change that room. The rest of the house has endured some changes, but nothing that changes its essence."

"I'm glad," said Charlotte. "It's one thing to change the drapes or cushions, but quite another to change something steeped in history like a staircase or wall. Unless the staircase is coming apart," she added. "Then, most definitely, it should be repaired with new timber."

William smiled, directing them to the east wing. It had been his mother's favorite part of the house because she enjoyed seeing the sunrise. She used to say it reminded her that every day was new, and she could choose to be happy and make the most of her day or dwell on the past. He didn't know how she could be so optimistic with a husband like his father.

The former duke had not treated his first wife as he should have, but she had stayed by his side without bitterness. From a raging temper to treating her like she didn't exist, William's father had made his wife's life gloomy and challenging. Good times between them had existed, but they had been few and far between. That changed when he married his second wife. The differences were like night and day.

William didn't want the same relationship his parents shared, so he was willing to put in as much effort as was needed to create something healthy and happy.

They entered the Rose Parlor, and he immediately moved to the fireplace. "This was the coziest place in the house during the winter," he said. "My mother and I would sit here, drink hot chocolate, and talk about our day and what we wished to do for Christmas. My mother loved traditions. We created a few of our own, making the festive season a special time of the year."

He smiled as he spoke, running his fingers across the carved mantelpiece. His mother had been a woman of many talents, including wood carving. She had never done anything on a grand scale, but she enjoyed taking beautiful pieces of wood and turning them into something magical. The mantelpiece was one of the last things she created before she fell too ill to do anything.

"You appear attached to the mantelpiece," Charlotte commented, appearing before him. "Does it bear a story? It's very beautiful."

William nodded. "My mother carved it," he said. "Every vine, bird, and fruit was created by her talented hands."

Charlotte gasped. "Indeed? Oh, how wonderful! I have always wished to learn wood carving. The more you tell me about your mother, the more I like her."

Charlotte ran her fingers across the mantelpiece in awe. William was glad she found it as magical as he did—not many people did. They simply commented it was beautiful but didn't really take the time to appreciate it. Charlotte was inspecting every dip, twist, and edge with the concentration of someone who understood the talent behind the work.

"Does she have any other pieces?" Charlotte asked. "I would love to see them."

"Most of them are in my chambers and study, but a few are scattered around the house," said William. "I'll point them out as we go along."

"Capital!" Charlotte cried. "I have a feeling this tour will be so much more colorful than my first one."

Guilt pricked his conscience like a thousand needles. He knew she did not mean to remind him that he had failed to perform such a simple but necessary task as a husband. However, he had been reminded all the same. Instead of feeling ashamed of his behavior, he needed to ensure he did his best to amend his wrongs and earn more of his wife's smiles.

"Shall we move on to the next room?" he suggested. "There is much to see. I have something special to show you in the drawing room."

Charlotte's bright blue eyes lit up. "Special, you say?" she said. "I am intrigued. Will you give me a clue about it?"

William drew his lips to the side in teasing thought. "Well, the words dark, twists, and turns come to mind."

Her pretty brow puckered. "Dark twists and turns?" she repeated. "That sounds like the book I'm reading. Do you speak of the bookshelf in the drawing room? What is special about that?"

"It is not the bookshelf I speak of," said William.

"Hmm," she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. "Very well, let us go, and you can show me what is so special about the drawing room. I am deeply curious."

"Yes, I have noticed that about you," he said.

"Do you perhaps have any concerns about my curiosity?" Charlotte asked. "I know it can seem excessive sometimes, but there is so much of the world to see and learn. Quite truthfully, I find it unfair that men have all the freedom necessary to do as they please. I do not wish to cause a raucous, but is it so wrong to wish to see more? To learn more?"

That question should have earned an immediate yes . Men and women had parts to play in society that maintained the equilibrium they were all accustomed to. However, there was no equilibrium at all, not in the truest sense. Men made the rules, and women followed.

William might not have cared about the equilibrium if his father had treated his mother well, but their relationship had proven just how helpless women were in the world of men. She didn't have a voice, she couldn't protest, and she had no right to change what his father deemed acceptable, no matter how trying it was on his poor wife.

"No, it is not wrong," he replied. "Never lose your curiosity, Charlotte. It will dampen your enthusiasm to grasp the world in your hands."

Charlotte's eyes widened with a smile. "I think that is one of the most wonderful things anyone has ever said to me," she said. "Thank you, William."

William drew in a sharp breath. That look of joy and surprise knocked him square in his chest. He had never met a more expressive woman and never knew how wondrously delightful it would be to have a woman like her by his side.

"There is no need to thank me," he insisted. "Rather, tell me how I can fulfill your curiosities."

"I will admit a small truth to you," she said in an almost conspiratorial air. "I adore it when anyone wishes to fulfill my curiosities. I hope you do not find me terribly spoiled."

William chuckled. "Not at all," he said. "Don't we all like to get our way?"

"Indeed, we all do," she replied. "I am glad you feel that way. Shall we make our way to the drawing room? You have sufficiently whet my appetite for this special something you have to show me."

William offered his arm. "The surprise awaits us."

Charlotte readily took his arm, curling hers around him. That brought her closer to him. He had not been this close to her since they signed the register on their wedding day. William leaned a little closer, breathing in Charlotte's fresh and floral scent. It carried a pleasant hint of sweetness that lingered behind the other notes.

"How long were you away from home?" Charlotte asked.

William immediately drew back, clearing his throat. "Since I completed my years at university," he replied. "I haven't been back since."

Instead of going on the Grand Tour like the rest of his friends did after university, he went into the military and never looked back.

"That is a long time to be without one's family," she commented. "But I understand why you did it. Life must have been challenging at home."

William looked at his wife in wonder. Her ability to understand him continued to surprise him. She was rather remarkable.

"It was challenging," he revealed. "My father wanted me to return home and fulfill my duties as the first son, but I couldn't take his behavior any longer. I needed freedom, and I took it."

They passed a long hall of paintings and busts, but it was nothing compared to the gallery of art in the south wing of the house.

"Well, I applaud you," said Charlotte, patting his arm. "You did what you believed was right and had peace of mind, although you likely thought about your family often. It's almost impossible not to do so. For better or worse, our family is our family."

"Right you are, Charlotte," he said. "We love them even when they are not worthy of our love."

"I cannot imagine what you have been through," she said. "However, you have many wonderful memories to hold on to, ones with your mother and friends. Were you mischievous as a child?"

Charlotte ran her hand over a marble dog—a memory of his great-grandfather's bloodhound. Apparently, the dog had helped him become a well-known hunter. He had left it in his will that the dog's statue was never to be removed from the family estate, or he would rain curses upon their heads from the grave. No one dared move it for fear of it happening.

"Perhaps not as much as young boys should be," William replied. "But enough to anger my father. My mother often came to my rescue, but not even she could save me all the time. I learned to be mischievous in secret."

"In secret?"

William nodded. "You will soon understand," he said as he opened the drawing room doors.

Charlotte's keen eyes looked around the room with undoubtedly fresh eyes now that she knew there was something different about it. William watched her, wondering if she would notice the slight difference in paneling near the bookshelf. One merely had to push a soft point, wait for the click, and pull the hidden doorway that led to almost every room in the house.

He could have chosen another room to reveal the secret door, but the drawing room was where he first discovered the tunnels as a child. He wanted to share that joy with Charlotte. William had a feeling she would appreciate it as much as he did.

A frustrated sigh left his wife's plump lips. "I cannot see it," she said, turning to him. "You must tell me what it is."

William said nothing. He simply smiled and drew her toward the bookshelf. He stopped, stretching the suspense until Charlotte snapped.

"William!" she cried. "I have never been known to be patient. In fact, my mother says I lack it like no other lady. So, please, reveal this surprise to me. My heart cannot bear to wait any longer."

William chuckled. "I think I shall have great fun with your impatience," he said. "However, you have waited long enough. Place your hand here and push."

He took her small hand in his, briefly marveling at its size before he pressed it against the panel.

"I should push this?" she asked, frowning. "Will it yield?"

"Wait and see," he replied.

Charlotte nodded and pressed the panel, gasping when it moved under her hand. William almost laughed at her look of wonder.

"Now, pull it," he said.

She did, revealing a dark tunnel. "It's a secret door!" she exclaimed. "Oh, how I love these! We do not have them in our home, but my cousins do. Can we go inside?"

"Perhaps another day," he said. "They need to be cleaned before I allow you to wander inside. Who knows what is there? I have not been in them for years."

Charlotte frowned at him. "Not even when you returned?"

"No," he replied. "I was swept into caring for the estate. That is all I have done since I returned."

She nodded and looked away. "Yes, I know," she said.

William could have kicked himself for reminding her he had been too busy to be a husband since their marriage. However, his failings did not seem uppermost in her mind.

"I'd like to explore these tunnels soon," she said, staring into the darkness. "Preferably with you. Do you think you could make time for me?"

She pulled back to look at him. William eagerly nodded, unwilling to let the opportunity to spend more time with her pass him by.

"Certainly," he replied. "I shall have the servants clean them tomorrow."

"Wonderful," she said and glanced at the clock. "Oh dear, time has run away from us. I'll need to prepare for dinner. Perhaps we might both attend this evening?"

William grinned. "Most certainly. Come, let me escort you to your room."

They chattered along the way about nothing in particular, but William enjoyed it all. Finally, and somewhat reluctantly, he released her and stood back.

"Thank you for a lovely afternoon, William," said Charlotte.

"No, thank you for allowing me to speak and explain myself," he said. "I regret that I did not do so before, but I hope this is the beginning of something meaningful. Perhaps a friendship to begin our journey together?"

He waited with bated breath, wondering if he had expected too much, too fast. Friendship was no small thing.

Charlotte smiled and nodded. "A friendship is a lovely place to start," she said.

William shuddered slightly with relief. "Thank you," he said. He was tempted to take her hand but kept his arms glued to his sides. I shall leave you to prepare."

He offered his wife a smile and walked away, allowing his lips to stretch into the grin that came from the very depths of his heart.