Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Charlotte kept her eyes closed as Templeton worked her magic for the evening. Her lady's maid was adamant that she couldn't take a peek, not even to have her lemonade. Templeton had to be her eyes for several hours, although Charlotte had cheated a few times out of desperation. She couldn't imagine how blind people managed to remain sane when there was so much of the world to see, but they couldn't enjoy the view because fate had robbed them of their sight.

"All done!" Templeton cried, startling Charlotte. "You can open your eyes now."

Charlotte was thankful for the low light in the room as she cracked both eyes open slowly. She blinked several times to push away the little spots in her vision until her eyesight returned to normal. Her dress was the first thing she noticed as she looked down at herself.

"You completed the bodice!" Charlotte exclaimed.

Templeton had selected a few of Charlotte's plain gowns some months ago and began transforming them with elaborate embroidery, adding lace or fiddling with measurements. Charlotte's pale green dress had been nothing but layers of silk that made her look a tad sickly.

She had never worn it because it wasn't flattering; it had been one of the dresses their modiste had convinced her mother to request to be made. Charlotte was convinced the silk was mere yards of fabric that the modiste had mistakenly ordered too much of and simply wanted to get her money back.

"Do you like it?" Templeton asked. "I did my best to transform it into something that complemented your coloring. Why waste a silk gown?"

"Why indeed," said Charlotte as she admired it. "It's beautiful. One would never say it had been awful before. You are truly talented."

Templeton beamed. "I am glad you like it, but you need to look at your appearance in its entirety for the full effect. Come, stand by this mirror."

She led Charlotte to a full-length mirror and stood back to let her take in her attire. Charlotte's hand patted her hair first and worked its way down to finger the simple gold jewelry before observing the rest of her dress.

"Everything is perfect, Templeton," she said. "It truly is. What is the time?"

"Just in time to go downstairs and leave for the opera," Templeton replied. "The others are probably waiting for you. I'll get your reticule."

She hurriedly fetched the little sack, secured it around Charlotte's wrist, and stepped back.

"Thank you," said Charlotte. "William will likely already be waiting. We agreed to meet in the foyer because we'd find something to waste time in the drawing room."

"Are you certain you do not need me to accompany you?" Templeton asked. "What if you need me for something?"

Charlotte smiled. "Stop fretting, Templeton," she said. "Louise will assist me should I need anything. Now, have a quiet evening and just enjoy this time to yourself. I'll see you later."

Charlotte patted her arm and left the room. As she approached the foyer, she heard voices and quickly realized her sister had reached their meeting place before her. Louise was habitually late, so it was a surprise.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Gregory," she heard her sister say. "You must be a good man to be friends with His Grace."

"Or I'm a terrible man who needs his goodness to influence him," Lord Gregory suggested.

Louise chuckled. "Then you have chosen the perfect friend," she said. "Do you know the play we're going to watch?"

" As You Like It ," Lord Gregory replied. "Have you seen it before?"

Charlotte recognized it as a Shakespearean play, one she had wanted to watch for a while.

"No, I do not believe I have," said Louise. "My sister and I enjoy comedies, so it's precisely the sort of play we would watch. You chose the perfect evening for the theater, Your Grace."

"I'm glad," William replied.

Charlotte chose that moment to enter the foyer and drew its occupants' attention.

"I apologize if I'm a little late," she said. "I didn't realize I would find everyone waiting for me."

"I just arrived, so you're hardly late," said Louise. "My, what a pretty gown. I do not recognize it, though. Did you recently have it made?"

"No, it's one of the few Mama had made before I left home," Charlotte explained. "Templeton added a few details to it."

"I really should have her change some of my dresses as well," said Louise. "My lady's maid isn't as skilled with a needle. Perhaps Templeton can train her."

"Perhaps," Charlotte agreed.

"You look lovely this evening, Your Grace," Lord Gregory commented as he bowed.

Charlotte lowered her head in response. "Thank you, my lord. It's wonderful to see you again. How long will you be staying in London?"

"A few weeks," he replied. "I hope to stay at least until the end of July, but I'll see."

Charlotte nodded politely and finally turned to her husband. She had watched him from the corner of her eye while talking to her sister and Lord Gregory. She wanted to gauge his reaction to her ensemble before she looked him fully in the face. His opinion mattered more than anyone else's.

William didn't say anything at first. He merely stared at her with slightly widened eyes, bringing a pink stain upon her cheeks. He was appreciative—that much was certain.

"You look handsome," she told him.

He truly did. Charlotte didn't know many men who could wear black so well. It tended to make others appear dull and pale, but his skin seemed more vibrant and rosy.

"You too," he replied. "Beautiful, I mean. You look beautiful."

Charlotte beamed with happiness. "Thank you. Shall we leave?"

William grinned a little foolishly as he nodded. "Yes, of course," he said. "The carriage is waiting for us."

Charlotte reached for his arm and curled her hand around it, startling him. He always offered, and she accepted, but she felt oddly bold that evening. William's surprise only lasted a little while because he tugged her closer with his arm and led her through the front door to their waiting carriage. Louise and Lord Gregory followed and climbed in after them, settling on the opposite side. Usually, she would sit across from her husband but scooted on the seat to make room and looked at him expectantly. He didn't hesitate to sit beside her and looked happier for it.

"Do you like Shakespeare?" he asked.

"I have never met the man," Charlotte replied, tongue-in-cheek. "I imagine he was interesting, although the success of his plays and poems might have given him an inflated head. Some men cannot handle success with humility."

William smiled. "I suppose I deserved that answer," he said. "I should have asked if you liked his work."

"He is not my favorite author, but his comedies are good," Charlotte said. "I also like some of his poetry. And you? Do you like his work?"

"For the most part," said William. "He was a talented writer who shaped our language, but I agree about the humility bit. A man as well-known as him must have had quite an inflated head. His works are still being read and watched hundreds of years later and will likely continue to be read. He left an unshakable legacy."

"Lucky him," said Charlotte. "Although being known by many for years to come isn't impressive to me. It is what you do to help others while alive that matters most."

"Some might argue that Shakespeare did a lot in the way of entertainment," William pointed out.

"Yes, for those fortunate enough to watch or read his plays," Charlotte replied. "However, what about the less fortunate? The ones who need charity rather than entertainment? I know the poor will always be with us, but our kind are mostly the reason for this. We take and take and barely give back. There is bound to be an imbalance between those who have and do not have."

"And I think it's time we ended this serious conversation," Louise interjected. "We're going to watch a comedy. We can wait another day to discuss the plight of the poor."

Charlotte pursed her lips but didn't have an opportunity to say anything because the carriage lurched rather violently to the side, throwing her into William's side. He caught and held her close, his one arm circled around her waist while the other hand lay on her belly. It was the most intimate contact she had ever experienced. Her heart picked up speed, hammering away in her chest as though it wanted to jump out and into William's hands.

"Are you hurt?" William asked.

Charlotte looked up and encountered his worried gaze. Unfortunately, she couldn't say a thing because her tongue felt swollen, dry, and tongue-tied. The best she could do was shake her head.

"I'm glad," he said but did nothing to put distance between them.

"Did we go over a rock or something?" Louise complained. "I almost lost my front teeth on Lord Gregory's shoulder. Did you hide rocks in there?"

Charlotte managed to tear her eyes away from William to see her sister rubbing her mouth as she pouted at Lord Gregory.

"I apologize, Lady Louise," said Lord Gregory. "It was all so sudden. I should have done more to shield you. My shoulders and arms are rather solid. Did I hurt you terribly?"

He drew closer to Louise to inspect her mouth, only for her sister to blush and pull away.

"There's no need to inspect that closely," she said, still touching her mouth. "It feels fine. I'm stronger than I look."

Lord Gregory didn't look convinced. "As long as you're certain."

Louise nodded. "I am." Her eyes widened as she turned to Charlotte and William. "Well, you look rather affectionate with each other."

Charlotte colored and sucked in a sharp breath when William's warm hand flexed against her belly.

"I need to ensure my wife is protected and well," said William. "Is that not my job?"

He didn't appear embarrassed by the situation, which was different. In fact, she would surmise he was growing increasingly more comfortable with touching her. Perhaps knowing she didn't feel awkward or annoyed when he walked in on her changing had given him this boldness. Charlotte didn't mind at all—she rather liked it.

William eventually released her when she insisted she needed to adjust her dress. He appeared reluctant, but their arrival at the Royal Theater didn't give him much choice. Lord Gregory and Louise alighted from the carriage first, followed by William and Charlotte. However, William didn't remove his arm from her waist once he helped her. Instead, he drew her closer and leaned toward her.

"Everyone is always in a hurry to get the best seats and tend to jostle others," he said. "I prefer to keep you close to my side."

Charlotte had no problem with that. "I agree if you think it's necessary," she said.

Frankly, she felt comfortable in his arms and liked having a warm protective shield around her. Louise cast them several amused looks, but Lord Gregory kept her rather busy with conversation, so she didn't do more than that. Others also observed them with various expressions, some bemused and others disapprovingly, as though Charlotte and William had no right to hold each other beyond the usual arm-holding.

"Our box is to the left," William announced, his voice rumbling through her. "It should be closest to the stage."

She wanted to tell him to continue speaking because she liked the sensation coursing through her. It was like someone had placed her on a vibrating surface, and her whole body was getting a mild massage.

"This is quite spacious," Louise commented when they entered their box. "You could fit four other people quite easily."

Charlotte hoped Henry would never be invited, but she didn't mind her mother-in-law too much. It was just her insistence about having children that caused Charlotte some stress. Not being with child seemed to be heading toward the conclusion that something was wrong with her, when it was a decision between her and William. Perhaps they needed to be frank about their relationship to everyone, although Charlotte didn't know if calling what they had now a friendship was still accurate.

Charlotte's feelings were slowly changing, and it was evident that William also felt differently. Before, spending time with her had been a chore, but now he frequently sought her company. He was even jealous of his brother being around her. When a man cared, he often grew jealous—her mother had once said this.

"We got here just in time," Lord Gregory remarked. "The play is about to begin."

Charlotte tucked her thoughts away and focused on the actors on the stage. She had read the play a few years ago and grew to like Rosalind's character. It took much courage to assume a male identity and form a teasing relationship with the man she loved. Charlotte glanced at William and wondered what lengths she would be willing to go to for a man she loved.

It was easy to claim she would go to the ends of the earth, but she didn't know anything about love. She had never experienced romance before, although she was almost certain it was blooming between her and William. The erratic heartbeats, fluttering in her belly, being tongue-tied—these were classic indicators of infatuation.

William unexpectedly turned to her and met her gaze, sending effervescent sensations straight to her lower belly. It didn't end there, though. It feeling bubbled upward, traveling to her heart and extending to her extremities until she felt quite giddy.

He leaned toward her and lowered his head. "Did you want to say something?" he whispered.

Charlotte shuddered slightly as his warm breath fanned her cheek. She gulped, knowing she had to get hold of herself but not knowing how to. This was all foreign to her.

"Erm, I, erm, just wanted to say thank you again," she said, her words tripping over each other to escape her mouth. "Coming to the theater was a lovely idea."

William smiled warmly. "I'm glad you think so. I wanted our first full day in London to end well."

She returned her smile and looked away, placing a hand on her heart to calm its racing pace. It was partly silly that she felt this way so suddenly. Charlotte couldn't even pinpoint the moment that everything changed. Perhaps she was falling in love with her husband. Her eyes widened at the thought.

"That Oliver is a terrible man," Louise complained. "Imagine scheming to have your brother die in a wrestling match? I cannot understand that kind of sibling relationship. It's completely foreign to me."

Charlotte couldn't agree more. However, after hearing William's story about how his father treated him differently from his younger brother, she understood how sibling rivalry could develop. It always started with the parents, whether they knew it or not.

The play moved at an acceptable pace and drew Charlotte into the emotional turmoil between the characters. Despite knowing the play, she still grew worried during Orlando's wrestling match scene. The actors made it look natural and had her on the edge of her seat. A large, warm palm enveloped her hand without warning, earning a soft gasp from her. She turned to find William staring at her with mild amusement.

"Do not fret so much," he said. "Orlando wins."

"I know, but I cannot help it," she said. Her hand tingled under his, and she almost wished they were not separated by her glove. "It's all so vivid and emotional."

"The actors are good," said William. "Making their audience feel is a testament to their skill."

"Yes, and a stress on my nerves," she complained.

He chuckled lightly. "The scene is about to end," he pointed out.

Charlotte turned away, expecting him to take his hand back, but he kept it on hers. She smiled. Charlotte waited a few moments before slowly turning her hand until their palms faced each other. He immediately laced his fingers with hers and held on firmly, sending tendrils of happy nerves and shyness through her. They were holding hands.

Charlotte glanced at him, but he was focused on the play. That didn't matter. His hand was all she needed to know he also had warm feelings for her.