Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Although Charlotte and William were having more meals together, she still didn't like that they sat far apart during dinner. They had their breakfasts in the drawing room, allowing for more intimate conversation, but dinner was still a far too formal affair. One could barely speak when an entire table capable of seating twenty-two people separated them.

Henry was seated in the middle, much to Charlotte's relief. She didn't fancy having another conversation with him after the awkward moment in the drawing room. Henry had taken it a step too far, which confused her. She didn't understand what he wanted to achieve. Perhaps he wished her to turn on William, but that would never happen. William was her husband, for better or worse.

This evening's meal was lighter than usual because Charlotte wanted to try something different. Only three courses would be served—a salad, one kind of roast meat with vegetables, and dessert. With the weather warming, it seemed ridiculous to still have soup and eat heavy meals. William wasn't a big eater, but he was open to change. Hopefully, he wouldn't mind what she had arranged that evening.

"This is ridiculous," she heard Henry say before she saw him call for servants.

He briefly spoke with them and stood up, taking his glass of wine with him. To her surprise, he came toward her. The servants followed behind him with his crockery and silverware and quickly set up a place on Charlotte's right.

"I hope you do not mind," he said. "I felt lonely sitting alone. Why do you still have dinner here? Part of dinner is the conversation. How can you possibly have a conversation when you sit so far apart? It makes no sense."

Charlotte didn't know what to say, so she merely nodded and forked lightly dressed salad leaves into her mouth. She raised her head slightly to see what William thought about the arrangement. He was staring at them with a heavy frown. She didn't blame him. After catching them in a suspicious situation moments ago, he couldn't help but wonder why his brother saw the need to get closer to his wife. Charlotte would have wondered the same thing if the shoe had been on the other foot.

"This salad is wondrously light with much flavor, but I hope we have something more substantial for the next course."

"We're having roast chicken, roast potatoes, and other root vegetables," Charlotte informed him. "It will all be served with gravy and fresh bread. I am not sure what we'll have for dessert. The chefs were torn between two choices. They're accustomed to doing more than one, but I told them to choose one. Sometimes having so many choices is not always good."

Henry raised his eyebrows. "So, we're only having three courses?"

He sounded surprised and disappointed. Charlotte inwardly smiled. Perhaps this would make him think twice about staying.

"Yes, only three courses," she confirmed. "It seems a waste to have more than that. It's just William and I, and he is not fussy at all."

"Yes, my brother could eat stale bread from the floor if needed," Henry replied in distaste. "I suppose being in the military makes you more open to unpleasant things."

"I understand your brother was the commanding officer," Charlotte said. "He wasn't just an officer—he had authority."

"I didn't say he didn't," Henry replied. "I just meant that he has seen the worst of society. This makes one appreciate what they have, I suppose. He might not protest a simple meal, but many of us have not been exposed to unpleasant situations. We expect more."

"More is not necessarily good for you," Charlotte argued. "Many illnesses arise from how we live our lives. Overeating and inhaling overly-rich foods leads to the sickness of the body and mind. Eating them mindfully would serve us better."

"Many would argue that, but I think you're right," said Henry. "After all, Lord Byron is one of the few obsessed with their figures. I heard he often eats potatoes and vinegar to maintain his slim figure."

"That is just torturous," said Charlotte. "Moderation is key, although I am not one to speak when I have eaten a king's ransom of strawberries. I have a weakness for fruit."

The corners of Henry's mouth lifted. "You must be rather sweet," he said.

Charlotte paused the next forkful of leaves and frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"You must be sweet," Henry repeated. "Fruit is sweet, so I assume you're rather sweet-tasting."

So, she had heard him correctly, but she still didn't understand what he meant. His smile hinted at something lewd, but she could be reading into the matter.

"Humans are not sweet-tasting," she said, taking him literally. "I'm not made of sugar."

Henry merely grinned and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't bother to explain himself further, but he appeared rather smug. Charlotte hated it when people said something confusing and didn't have the decency to elaborate. It was annoying and inconvenient.

Pursing her lips, she stabbed her salad repeatedly and stuffed her mouth, chewing slowly. Moments later, she heard a chair scrape against the wooden floorboards. Charlotte looked up and smiled in surprise when she saw William approach them.

"How interesting," Henry muttered.

Charlotte didn't pay him a glance. She knew he was talking about William. Even she was surprised by her husband's uncharacteristic move.

"I'm glad you have joined us," she said as he pulled back a chair and sat down.

"It made more sense," William explained.

He briefly glanced at his brother and scowled, but Henry didn't notice. He was looking at Charlotte. She inwardly shook her head and resolved to not give him more attention than was necessary.

"I didn't take you for someone to go against tradition, William," Henry commented. "Mother and Father always kept their positions at the table."

"Not every tradition is right for everyone," Charlotte replied before William said a word. "At home, my parents sit near each other. My mother is always at my father's left. It makes sense because she is his confidant, comforter, and partner in all things. Marriage is a relationship which includes many conversations. Why waste a perfectly good moment during dinner by sitting far apart?"

"I never thought about it like that," Henry said. "I suppose your way makes sense. I would certainly wish to be near my beautiful wife at all times. How on earth have you managed to keep your distance at the table, William? Are you that unfeeling toward your wife?"

William turned pink. Charlotte guessed he was thinking about their lack of communication at the beginning of their marriage. She didn't hold it against him and didn't want him to dwell on it, so she quickly replied.

"That is silly, Henry," she said, keeping her voice light. "The ride this afternoon is enough proof that we spend time together. This dinner arrangement is merely a nod to the tradition your mother and father began. However, William has decided to make his own traditions. Or rather, we have decided to make our own traditions." She turned to William with a smile. "Although I still wish to know more about your mother's Christmas traditions."

William returned her smile. "We can discuss them after dinner," he said. "I forgot that I found her notebooks with all her traditions listed since she was a little girl and a few from her family. I'll have the servants bring the notebooks, and we can peruse them."

"That sounds lovely," Charlotte replied.

"I'm also interested to hear about these traditions," said Henry. "I never knew they existed. Interesting how you've never mentioned them before."

"You wouldn't have been interested," William pointed out.

Charlotte sensed a heated argument might ensue, so she called for the servants to serve the next course. Their salad plates were mostly empty, and she doubted William and Henry cared about the last few salad leaves remaining.

"Ah, something a little more substantial," Henry commented. "Although I must admit I do not feel heavy with food as usual. Perhaps you are on to something with serving just salad as a first course, Charlotte. It's refreshing."

"I'm glad you think so," she said. "Please, enjoy the chicken. The chefs have been trying different herbs and flavors lately. One could smell them when walking down the hallway near the kitchen."

Henry lowered his face and sniffed the chicken. "Very aromatic," he said. "It reminds me of something I tried in London. I was there briefly to see a friend. It's the social Season, so it's rather crowded at the moment."

"I can imagine," Charlotte replied.

She cut into the tender roasted meat and was glad it wasn't dry. Some chefs had trouble maintaining the juices in a bird. It was either undercooked or overcooked and needed a lot of gravy. She briefly brought it to her nose for a quick whiff before slowly closing her lips over it. It was perfect, and the flavors were both familiar and exotic.

"Delicious," she murmured.

She turned to William to ask him what he thought, only to find him staring intently at her lips. She touched her mouth, assuming she had something, but her finger came away with nothing.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No," William replied. He sounded a tad strangled. "Not at all."

Charlotte inwardly shrugged. "Do you like the chicken?"

"I—" William began.

"I certainly do," Henry interrupted. "It's moist and flavorful—just the way I like it. Oddly, it reminds me of that meal I had in London. I attended a good friend's dinner party, and they had so much food that people were gorging themselves until they could hardly move. It was quite amusing."

Charlotte didn't like that he had cut into William's response. Henry was likely accustomed to it, but Charlotte wouldn't let him get away with it.

"I'm glad," she said, briefly looking at him before she turned to William. "I hope it's not too flavorful. I know you prefer plain food, but I think this is a happy medium. It's rich, but it doesn't linger too long."

"I like it," William replied. "It's just perfect."

Charlotte beamed. "I'm glad you think so."

"These crunchy potatoes remind me of a dinner I had after a horse race," Henry said, once again taking over the conversation. "I was racing a few friends and easily won it. They were not good riders. Anyway, one of them is married to a cousin of one of the women at court. Some say the woman is the Prince Regent's mistress, but that hasn't been confirmed."

"I see," Charlotte replied.

She wasn't truly interested in the story, especially if it was gossip about the royal family.

"The cousin served crunchy potatoes like these with roast beef," Henry continued. "But these are better."

Charlotte nodded and sipped her wine. William had grown quiet again, but she didn't blame him. Henry was determined to monopolize the conversation.

"The carrots come from our garden," she commented, addressing William. "I love the different colors. I also think the burst of green from the buttery peas looks pretty."

"I'm pleased with everything," he replied. "It makes the food more appetizing."

"I couldn't agree more, Brother," Henry said. "The inns on the way to London could stand to make their food look better. It tastes good, but everything is mostly brown. Brown meat, brown bread, brown potatoes, brown gravy, brown stew—it's a bit much."

"Speaking of inns," William continued. "Do you have any you prefer, Charlotte? We should leave for London soon. We could have left earlier for the Season, but I wanted you to grow accustomed to the house first."

Charlotte's eyes lit up. "We're going to London?"

"If you would like to," William said. "I thought you might like to spend a little time in London during the Season. We do not need to stay too long. Maybe a month or so."

"I'd love to," Charlotte readily replied. "When do we leave?"

"You're going to London soon?" Henry piped in. "But I just returned home! Surely you can wait until the following year?"

"You are welcome to stay with your mother while we're away," said William. "I know she would love to see her son."

Charlotte grinned as she popped a piece of potato in her mouth. William sounded rather smug and appeared pleased with his comment, while Henry looked like a child whose toy had been taken away. It was a nice change to the evening.

Chapter 18

William watched his wife's head bob as she struggled to remain awake. Dinner had ended two hours ago, and Henry eventually retired to bed after getting nowhere with convincing them to delay their departure to London. Henry was too accustomed to getting whatever he pleased, but William wouldn't satisfy his brother's wants.

He slowly rose from his seat and crossed the short space between his chair and her settee. Charlotte's head had dropped to her chest and was partially hidden by a cascade of golden curls. William reached for a lock of hair and rubbed the silky tresses between his fingers, marveling at its soft texture.

He recalled brushing his mother's hair during the months leading up to her death. Her illness had reduced her thick, lustrous curls into dull, lifeless sticks that fell limply down her back. Despite this, he used to tell her she had the most beautiful hair he had ever seen. His mother knew it was a lie, but she used to smile anyway and thank him.

William's father didn't like him brushing his mother's hair because it was apparently an effeminate thing. He couldn't understand that it was William's way of spending as much time with his mother as possible because he knew the time was coming when she would be lost to him forever. Brushing hair became an almost sacred ritual that he believed died with his mother, but feeling his wife's hair made him yearn to do it once again.

Perhaps, when all was well between him and Charlotte, she might allow him that right. Or maybe she might think him bizarre, just like his father had.William's heart immediately denied that thought.

Charlotte was different in a wonderful way, making him want to know more about her and learn what made her so unique and intriguing. She would never mistreat him as his father had. She was undoubtedly headstrong and had a bit of a temper, but her heart was pure and good.

A soft snore drew him out of his thoughts. He grinned as he stared at his adorable wife. He didn't know that she snored. William's smile quickly dropped when he realized that the only reason he didn't know much about his wife was his decision to keep her at arm's length. He regretted that more each day as he grew to know her.

"William?" Charlotte croaked as her head lifted, until her confused blue eyes sought his.

She must have been surprised to find him suddenly sitting beside her when she last saw him in his armchair.

He smiled. "I came to wake you," he said. "We should retire to our chambers. It has been a long day."

"I wasn't sleeping," she insisted. She sat up straighter, pushing her hair away from her face. "I was just thinking."

William struggled not to laugh. "What were you thinking about?"

"London," she said. "I'm looking forward to seeing the city."

"Ah, I see," he said. "Well, I would like to retire for the night and wondered if we could accompany each other to our rooms."

"You're sleepy?" she asked.

Not particularly, but she certainly was and likely wouldn't go to bed unless she believed he was tired. Charlotte began to yawn but quickly stifled it with a hand over her mouth. She truly was stubborn.

"Yes," he lied. "I can hardly stay awake."

"Then, by all means, we should retire," she said eagerly. She rose to her feet, barely able to stop another yawn as she turned to him. "Shall we go?"

William nodded and offered his arm. "I am ready if you are."

Charlotte smiled sleepily and curled her fingers around his forearm. They left the drawing room and slowly made their way to the stairs with just a stumble or two from a very tired wife. William pretended not to notice and subtly leaned closer to steady her. They had just about reached the first step when she brought her hand higher up his arm and curled it around his before resting her head on his shoulder.

William stilled for just a second as a flutter made his belly quiver. A beautiful, warm, soft woman was nearly glued to his side, and it felt wonderful. Better yet, she was his wife, and he had all the right to enjoy this moment. Unfortunately, since she wasn't fully aware of what she was doing, he was bound by honor not to take advantage and put his arm around her like he wished.

"Are we nearly there?" Charlotte asked. "These stairs seem to have more steps than usual. I feel we will never reach our chambers."

"I assure you the number of steps has not changed," he said. "No one would dare trouble you in such a way."

"Hmm," she replied, nodding her head against his arm.

She fell silent and grew heavier against his arm. William was worried she would take a misstep in her drowsiness and be fully jerked out of her half-awake state. Experience had taught him that sudden waking resulted in a longer time to fall asleep.

He could carry her and let her sleep in his arms, but he didn't know if she would welcome such a solution. They were friends, but that didn't mean she was entirely at ease with him. Until then, he would respect her boundaries, whether in her waking moments or her slumber.

"You said you were looking forward to seeing London," he said in an effort to help her stay on her feet. "Have you and your family spent much time in London?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Papa does not like how busy it is. He says the smell is so terrible that it burns the hairs of your nostrils."

"I admit that some parts carry a foul stench," William replied. "However, it's not the same everywhere. Some people carry handkerchiefs with dried flowers or spray them with perfume and hold them to their noses if they pass any areas with less desirable smells."

"I'll ask Templeton to ready a few handkerchiefs for that purpose," said Charlotte. "Some for you and me. What colors do you prefer? Green? Blue? White?"

William was amazed that Charlotte could converse with him while sleepy. He expected mumbling, but Charlotte seemed to have no trouble responding coherently. He tilted his head to the side and observed her, suddenly wondering if she was pretending to be so tired that she could hardly keep her eyes open.

Her heavy-lidded eyes and slight pout were all he needed to know that his wife was fast approaching dreamland. He wondered with some amusement if she talked in her sleep or perhaps was even a sleepwalker. William could see her doing both.

"William?"

She looked up, arresting him with her blue eyes. She was merely inches away from him and utterly unguarded in expression. William felt he could almost look into her very soul.

"Hmm?" he said.

She frowned slightly and looked down, shaking her head. "Never mind."

William paused and leaned against the balustrade. He put a finger under her chin and gently tilted her head to look at him.

"What do you wish to ask me?" he insisted. "Whatever it is, I'll give it to you."

He meant that. Charlotte could have asked him for anything then, and he would have given it to her with a smile. There was something disarming about a beautiful and sweet woman looking at one without a stitch of guile or questionable intentions. Charlotte was who she said she was.

"May my sister come with us to London?" she asked, meeting his eyes. "I think we could have much fun in London together."

William took just a few seconds to think about it. It would be wonderful to allow her some company, but he hoped it wouldn't take away from their time together. He wished to show her London through his eyes. Not that he was an expert, but he was confident he would know more because he was more than a decade older, and she had admitted she and her family had not been to London much. However, having her sister with her would make her happier.

"Of course, she can come," he replied. "The more, the merrier."

Charlotte's eyes crinkled at the edges as her lips spread into a sweet smile that tickled his heart. He could say yes a thousand times more just to see that smile again.

***

"More coffee, Your Grace?" Karsten asked the following afternoon.

William nodded. "A little more sugar and cream this time," he replied. "My last cup was a tad too strong for the afternoon. This should probably be my last cup of the day, or I might not have a restful sleep."

He never used to care before, but now he had someone else to think about. A restful sleep meant waking up refreshed and being in a good mood at breakfast. It meant giving his wife a sincere smile and being willing to listen to her cheerful chatter without growing annoyed.

Working all day, barely eating, taking his meals in his study, drinking more cups of coffee than was wise, and not having a suitable sleep schedule made him somewhat short-tempered at times and less willing to deviate from his habits. Wanting to do right by Charlotte had forced him to take a look at himself and change where necessary.

"Which property will you use while in London, Your Grace?" Karsten asked.

"My mother's favorite, of course," William said. "My father had a habit of buying multiple properties in every well-known town. My mother always had a favorite and put her mark on that house. I can only hope my stepmother didn't change anything. I know she attends the London Season every year and likely chooses a different house each time."

Catherine liked to make her family's wealth known by flaunting it in every way possible. She had been a good wife to his father and wasn't a terrible stepmother, so perhaps having a weakness for material things didn't make him think less of her. She was no better or worse than other titled women.

"Her Grace prefers to be closer to the shops without sacrificing her comfort," Karsten pointed out. "She likely stayed in the estates closest to places like Hyde Park. Your mother preferred the outskirts of London."

"That is true," said William. "I wonder which Charlotte would prefer, though? I should probably ask her before I go any further with preparations."

William had taken to his study soon after breakfast to put everything in order for their trip and stay in London. He wanted to leave quickly and get his wife away from his younger brother. He didn't trust Henry as far as he could throw him. It seemed imperative to put as much space as he could between them before anything could happen.

William didn't know for certain that something untoward would happen, but he wouldn't put anything past Henry. He did not like the way his half-brother looked at Charlotte the previous evening. Henry had shown too much interest for comfort, and William wasn't going to explain it away and do nothing about it. Charlotte was his wife—Henry had no right to her.

"She might be with Her Grace," said Karsten. "Shall I ask her to see you?"

"No, I'll go to her," William replied. "I need to stretch my legs. I've been sitting for too long. I'll have that coffee when I return." He smiled. "If I return. A walk with my wife might be in the cards. An afternoon stroll to work up an appetite for dinner."

Although taking her away from his stepmother might take some effort. Catherine had arrived several hours ago to see how they were faring as a married couple. She probably would not stop until Charlotte was with child. If only she knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon. William didn't think Catherine would understand his and Charlotte's wish to be friends before delving into a deeper relationship.

William entered the parlor moments later to find his stepmother alone. "Charlotte is not with you," he said.

His stepmother smiled. "Unless she's invisible."

"Anything is possible with Charlotte," he replied. "Do you know where she went?"

"She mentioned wishing to replace the flowers in the vases," Catherine said. "I said she should let the servants do it, but she insisted. Your wife is quite the busy bee, William. She doesn't like to be idle for too long. That is an attractive trait to have."

William couldn't agree more. "Charlotte is enthusiastic about life," he said. "I'm sure I'll find her soon. Will you be staying for dinner?"

Catherine nodded. "I think I'd like to spend some time with my daughter-in-law before you leave for London," she said. "She makes me feel young again."

William understood the feeling. "Please inform Mrs. Clarkson if you have any wishes for dinner this evening. Excuse me."

He briefly lowered his head and left the room, searching in most rooms for his wife. She was nowhere to be seen. He should have just asked a servant instead of going on a wild goose chase to find Charlotte.

Mrs. Clarkson appeared in the hallway just as he left the drawing room and curtsied in acknowledgment.

"Your Grace," she said.

He nodded. "Have you seen my wife?" he asked. "She's not in any of the rooms I've looked in."

"Her Grace is walking in the garden," the housekeeper replied. "She wanted a little fresh air."

William was willing to wager his fortune that Charlotte wanted to get away from his stepmother. Catherine could sometimes be overwhelming, especially once she got something into her head. For his stepmother, nothing was more important than producing an heir.

"Thank you," said William. "As you were."

He walked to the nearest window overlooking the garden, hoping to see his wife. The garden was expansive, and it would take him a little while to locate her. Getting a view from higher ground made more sense. It took a moment, but his eyes eventually found his golden-haired beauty. Unfortunately, she wasn't alone. The bitter taste of jealousy rose within him and curled his hands into fists.

"Henry," he spat out.

He should have known his brother would keep finding ways to be alone with Charlotte. William didn't waste any more time. He left the house quickly, taking the quickest exit to the garden. Charlotte and Henry were somewhere nearby, but it wasn't close enough. He just wanted them away from each other before Henry attempted something they couldn't undo.

William turned the corner and felt his anger flare up when he spotted them. Henry had his hands behind his back, but his body language made William want to push his brother away into the next country. His half-brother's upper body was too close to Charlotte.

Henry appeared to be leaning inward and saying something in her ear. It did William's heart some good to see she wasn't at ease with his proximity. She was pulling away by pretending to look at flowers and taking little steps away. She needed her husband to get rid of the discomfort, and he was only too happy to do it.

"Henry!" he snapped, striding toward them.

Henry's head whipped toward him. His green eyes flashed with annoyance as though William was the intruder. That only served to set fire to the blood coursing through William.

"What is it, dear brother?" Henry asked.

William's ire pushed back a little when his wife smiled at him. Her look of relief was all the motivation he needed to send his brother away and take his rightful place beside her.

"Your mother wishes to speak with you," William lied.

Henry frowned. "But why? I was with her earlier."

William shrugged. "Who am I to question what a mother wants with her son?" he said. "Best you go there and find out. You know how she becomes when you dally."

Henry sighed, rubbing his brow. "Fine, fine," he said begrudgingly. "Charlotte, until our next promenade in the garden. I hope you will save me some of your time before your trip to London."

"I will try my best," she replied.

Henry grinned at her, but his smile quickly dropped when he glanced at William before nodding and returning to the house.

"I'm glad you've taken a break from work," said Charlotte. "I was worried you would never surface. You've been busy since after breakfast."

A twinge of guilt niggled at him. Being away from her had been for a good cause, but he should have taken breaks.

"I wanted to start preparations for our trip to London," he explained. "I apologize that I got carried away."

"Oh, I didn't think anything terrible by it," she insisted. "I was merely worried you were working too much. I was going to come and see you after my walk, but Henry delayed my plans."

William's jaw clenched at the mention of his half-brother. "Henry can be...problematic at times," he said. "I would feel better if you didn't spend too much time in his presence. He has a lack of boundaries, which could lead to uncomfortable situations."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "If it's something that worries you, I'll certainly keep it in mind," she said.

William nodded, glad she had readily agreed with him without argument. "Shall we walk for a little while? I still need to stretch my legs, or would you prefer to return inside?"

"I do not mind a longer stroll," she said. "You can tell me all about the details of our trip. I'm so excited that I hardly slept a wink last night, but I strangely do not feel tired. I might fall asleep soon after dinner, though."

William chuckled. "I will gladly help you to your chamber again," he said.

Charlotte grinned and curled her arm around his before choosing their path. Henry's behavior was pushed to the back of his mind as he conversed with his wife and simply enjoyed her presence. Being around her had quickly become his favorite part of the day, and frankly, he wouldn't have it any other way.