Chapter 27

Chapter 27

"Is it normal for London to have so many balls?" Charlotte asked some days later.

They had arrived at yet another ball, but this time, Henry wasn't with them. It was a great relief off her shoulders because he had become far more bothersome than she ever imagined. It almost seemed he was trying to provoke William through his insistence on being around her. It was always, "My dear sister-in-law this," and, "My dear sister-in-law that." It was tiring.

"It's the social season," William pointed out. "There is likely to be a party every day if people can manage it. Having these events during a full moon is safer, but some chance it and rely on lanterns. I suppose the streets are lit with lamps, so one isn't fully in the dark."

"Carriages also carry their own lanterns," Charlotte added. "However, it's not enough to avoid a drunken man, is it? Or an animal suddenly darting in the road. No wonder Papa hates traveling at night."

"I don't like it either," said William. He paused and looked around the room. "What would you like to do? Find somewhere to sit or dance? Are you thirsty?"

Charlotte smiled. "I would love to dance with you again. We were only able to dance once at the last ball."

After Henry practically gave her no option but to accept his request to dance with her. Charlotte hated to admit that someone had outsmarted her, but she couldn't deny it. The music had just ended, and Gregory suggested they join their company, but Henry appeared out of nowhere and rather loudly stated he was there to claim his dance because she had promised him one.

Charlotte had done no such thing, but Henry's loud voice had attracted some attention. She tried to tell him she was tired, but he very quickly pointed out that she was as fit as a fiddle and could likely last the entire evening on her feet. Since she wasn't perspiring and didn't appear tired, it would make her seem like a liar if she claimed otherwise.

Charlotte knew then that he would have a counter-answer to everything, so she had just danced with him to get it over and done with. Fortunately, William had rescued her, and she was able to get away from him.

"I do not mind a dance or more," said William. "Let's wait for the next set."

Charlotte agreed, and they stood off to one side. She wrapped her arm around his and felt comfortable leaning her brow against him as they waited for the dance to end. Charlotte and her family were affectionate, so she was glad they were both at ease so that she could behave comfortably with him.

"It's unfortunate Louise couldn't come with us," Charlotte remarked. "She would have loved to be here."

Their host undoubtedly favored color because almost every wall had a different color, and even the drapes featured pops of brightness in the form of flowers. Charlotte would have thought a woman had decorated the home if William had not told her their host was a bachelor rumored to have male lovers.

She wasn't shocked, although it was something frowned upon in their society. Charlotte had translated many texts from old languages and had come across little bits of information about such practices during ancient times. Some ancient societies accepted this sort of love. She was careful never to reveal that she had read this kind of information in the old manuscripts, or else her parents would never have allowed her to translate them.

"Staying awake late for too many days can make one ill," William pointed out. "I know all about you and your sister having midnight feasts when you're supposed to be in bed."

Charlotte giggled. "When did you find out? We try to be as quiet as possible."

William smiled. "You're not quiet enough," he said. "I heard laughing one night and looked outside my door. I was surprised to see you, Louise, and your lady's maid making your way downstairs. I followed you for a little while, but when I saw you taking things out of the pantry, I realized you wanted to eat something. I returned to bed after that."

"Why didn't you join us?" she asked. "The more, the merrier."

"I cannot stomach food that late at night," he replied.

"It must be your age," she said.

"I beg your pardon?"

Charlotte laughed. "You are thirty, after all. Some think that is rather old, but do not worry—I don't. I like your age."

"I'm not sure if that is a compliment," he said.

Charlotte tilted her head and closed one eye as she looked at him. "Yes," she said after a moment. "It is undoubtedly a compliment. You have a distinguished air about you, and you're handsome. I think your age adds to that."

"I suppose I can accept that," William replied.

Charlotte nodded. "You should accept the words of your wife. It is law."

"Law?"

"Yes."

"Which law?"

"The unspoken one," she said. "Marriages have many unspoken laws that couples must abide by. For example, the man is the head of the family, yes?"

"That is not an unspoken law," William pointed out. "It's in the Bible and other cultures."

"I wasn't done with my statement," said Charlotte. "The man is the head, but the woman is the neck. What does the neck do?"

"Support the head?"

"Precisely," Charlotte said. "The head would have no strength without the neck. Also, the entire body dies a quick death when the jugular is slit. You can stab the head, arm, leg, or stomach and still survive. Not so with the neck. Why do you think many people called for the jugular during gladiator fights in ancient Rome? It was to finish their opponent."

"So, you're saying a man without a woman is as dead?" William asked.

"I'm saying a husband without his wife is as good as dead," she corrected. "Especially when the man is accustomed to the wife doing everything for him."

William nodded. "I think I understand," he said. He turned to the dancers. "The set is done. Shall we make our way to the dance floor?"

"With pleasure," she said.

They joined the next lot of dancers and got into position with men on one side and women on the other. They waited for the right part of the music to start moving, approaching each other slowly. Charlotte smiled at him and was tempted to wink, but she wasn't sure how the others would take the gesture.

Her mother often told her that sometimes, she had to be considerate of others around her and not do as she pleased. Charlotte didn't like having to change her behavior to suit others, but she now had to think about her husband. His reputation was her reputation, and vice versa.

William's lips stretched a little into a hint of a grin. His eyes, however, were bright with a smile. Charlotte had met very few people who could smile with their eyes alone, and William was one of them. She liked that about him.

Charlotte studied her husband as they stepped around each other in time to the music. He moved with such grace and poise—one could not tell he didn't like dancing. William only did it because she enjoyed it, but she suspected he was beginning to like it a little.

He approached her and raised his arm, waiting for her to touch her palm to his. She mirrored his movement and touched his warm hand—she could feel its warmth through her glove. Charlotte raised her eyes to his and found him staring at her with an unreadable expression. It still managed to bring heat to her round cheeks and make her lower her eyes briefly before slowly raising her head again.

"You have pretty blue eyes," said William. "I do not think I have told you that."

Charlotte blushed harder. "No, you haven't," she said. "I like your eyes, too. They remind me of the richness of the hot chocolate I like to drink."

William chuckled. "The richness of hot chocolate?" he repeated. "That is a first, but I know how much you like hot chocolate, so it's a wonderful compliment. Thank you."

"I also like your hair," she continued. "I hope you'll let it grow longer. It has a lovely curl pattern. I like long hair on men. If you grow yours past your shoulders, I'll brush it daily and untangle any knots. I'll plait it at night so it doesn't bother you when you sleep."

"You wish to brush my hair?" he asked.

Charlotte's heart ached slightly when she heard the catch in his voice. She didn't think what she had said was anything special, but her words had a startling effect on her husband. William appeared emotional and pleased, which confused her.

"Yes, I would," she confirmed. "I also give lovely head massages. My family always falls asleep whenever I rub their scalps. I used to massage my mother's temples whenever she felt a headache coming on."

"So, you have a healing touch?" William asked as the music approached its end.

"I suppose you could say so," she said. "I cannot know until I do the same for others. Why don't I massage your scalp tomorrow? You can tell me if it does anything good for you."

"I look forward to it," he said. "Until then, shall we get some fresh air? The music has ended, and I feel a little hot in here."

"It is a warmer night than usual, isn't it?" said Charlotte. "We can go to the balcony."

William nodded. "The balcony it is. Shall we?"

He didn't wait for her to place her hand on his arm, but took it and put it there. However, he didn't remove his hand. It lay over hers like a warm, comforting blanket, except blankets didn't send tingles up her arm and into the pit of her belly, where they burst into a flurry of butterflies. Her breath hitched slightly, but not enough for him to notice.

Lately, Charlotte felt she was much more sensitive to being near William than usual. His touches made her feel the same excitement she experienced whenever she got her hands on a new ancient manuscript to translate. Perhaps her tingles with William ranked a little higher than that.

"There's a breeze outside," William said, drawing her out of her thoughts. "I'm glad it's not humid."

"It seems we're the only ones here," Charlotte commented as she looked around the area. "I suppose no one else feels hot."

"Perhaps not," William agreed.

Charlotte walked to the ledge and leaned on it, raising her face to the breeze when it blew past her. It lifted the tendrils of hair around her face until they blocked her view. She straightened to tuck them behind her ears, stilling when a bigger hand gently pushed hers away.

"Let me do it," William insisted.

Charlotte's hand dropped to her side as she turned to him. William had a look of concentration as he tucked each strand behind her ears and patted them in place.

"There," he said. His voice had dropped lower. "I don't think they'll move any time soon. You have wonderful silky hair. It's like spun gold."

Charlotte warmed under his compliment. "Mama says a woman's hair is her crowning glory," she said. "Templeton takes after it with such great care. She learned an oiling method from an Indian servant our neighbor used to have. The servant had such luscious black hair that fell to her knees. My hair falls past my waist, but it's not at knee-length yet."

"I would love to see it left loose one day," said William.

He touched her hair again, but almost reverently, before slowly allowing his hand to drop to her cheek, where he trailed his finger very briefly. Charlotte trembled slightly, unable to look away from his face.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

He put his hands on her arms and rubbed them for a moment before he removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders. Charlotte oddly couldn't utter a word. Quite frankly, her husband had mesmerized her.

"Do you feel better?" he asked, rubbing her arms again.

Charlotte opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She couldn't seem to think of a single thing to say.

"Charlotte?"

She wasn't sure if it was just her ears, but William's voice sounded even lower. Her eyes dropped to his lips, suddenly wondering if his lower and slightly plumper lip was as soft as it looked. William's hands on her arms stilled, prompting her to meet his eyes once more. It was rather dark outside, even with the lanterns glowing nearby, so she couldn't see what he was thinking through his eyes. However, the air between them had thickened with an alluring temptation to draw closer to him and put her arms around his waist.

Charlotte just wanted to be near him, near like a wife and husband should be. William seemed to feel the same way because he leaned toward her until she felt his warm breath fan her cheeks. She held her breath, wondering if he was going to kiss her. It seemed like he would, especially when—

"There you are," said Henry, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. "I was wondering where you both were."

Charlotte jerked in surprise and grabbed onto the front of William's shirt to steady herself. He wrapped his arm protectively around her and turned to his brother, but he did it almost as though he were shielding her. Charlotte liked that.

"What is it, Henry?" William asked. "I didn't expect you to be here."

"Did my sister-in-law not tell you I would be here?" Henry asked. "I mentioned it earlier."

Charlotte frowned in confusion. She couldn't recall Henry speaking to her about the ball. The last she knew of the matter was that he wasn't invited.

William stilled for a moment before he pulled away from Charlotte. "You knew he was coming?" he said.

"No," she replied.

"But we spoke about it around noon today," Henry insisted. "You first spoke to the housekeeper about dinner, then I spoke to you for a moment. Do you not remember?"

Charlotte recalled speaking to the housekeeper but only glanced at him when he mentioned she looked lovely in her yellow dress. She might have said thank you, but not much else. Henry made her uncomfortable, and she preferred to avoid him whenever possible.

"I vaguely recall seeing you," she said, "but—"

Her words stopped when William took a step away from her. It was so unexpected that the warmth between them disappeared abruptly, leaving her feeling strangely cold and bereft.

"You knew he would be here?" William asked.

Charlotte didn't care for his accusatory tone. She stiffened and took a further step away from him. She was his wife—he should listen to her. She had no reason to lie.

"I have already said I didn't," she said.

Henry chuckled a little. "It's nothing to hide," he said. "It's merely a simple matter. Do you not think so, dear brother?"

"Why are you here?" William asked him. "I know you were not invited. Did you simply barge in? Did they not stop you at the door?"

"Why does it matter?" Henry asked. "I thought you would be happy to know I was here. We're brothers, after all. Or is there a reason you do not wish I was here?"

"Do not pretend to know otherwise," William snapped. "Frankly, I am tired of your games."

"Games? Me?" said Henry. "I'm playing a game? Well, if I am, you should know I never lose."

William snorted. "Cheating isn't a true win."

"And that is where we differ," said Henry. "You are too concerned about ethics to do what is necessary, while I will do anything to get what I want."

Charlotte didn't know what they were on about, and she was getting a headache standing there while they spoke in riddles. She quietly excused herself and returned inside, unsure if they heard her. Not that she cared. William was too concerned about his quarrel with his brother to worry about how she felt. Sometimes, she felt like an outsider whenever they got into arguments.

Everything would have been perfect if Henry had not arrived. He just seemed to spoil things with his mere presence. Charlotte was worried her marriage would always be like this. If that were the case, she might never get as close to William as she hoped. The thought was so thick with disappointment that she couldn't see herself enjoying the ball any further. She might as well go home.