Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The chatter around William made no sense because he couldn't hear it above his troubling thoughts. The nice, dark spot he had chosen in the gentleman's club seemed the perfect place to wallow in his pity and the state of his marriage.

"Why am I not surprised?"

Startled, William jerked and looked up to find his friend staring down at him. "You're here," he said. "It took you a while."

"I had a few errands," Gregory replied, sitting beside him. "Why are you sitting here in the shadows? There's so much space and sunlight here."

It was late afternoon, but summer made it seem like it was still the middle of the day.

"The shadows complement the state of my soul," William said solemnly.

Gregory chuckled. "Do not be so melancholy when you have a beautiful wife at home," he chided. "Life cannot be that terrible, can it?"

"I wouldn't have asked you to see me if nothing was wrong," said William. "I might have ruined any chances with my wife to have a happy marriage. I cannot even blame anyone but myself."

Although his brother played a big part in everything. His interfering and nefarious ways finally made him snap, but he went about it the wrong way.

"I'll get us something to drink, and you can tell me your marital woes," said Gregory. "I feel I need something to calm my mind."

William had to laugh. "You haven't even heard my story yet."

"All your stories always have a note of deep sadness," Gregory pointed out. "It makes me feel so terribly sorry for you. I had hoped Charlotte would finally bring you the happiness you deserve."

"She did make me happy," he said. "She does make me happy. I'm the one who upset her."

William winced and placed a hand over his heart as it ached with the memory of Charlotte's tears. He had caused them through his pride. It didn't matter that Henry was in the wrong, not when his wife was hurting. Doubting her had likely been like a knife to her chest. He hadn't meant to make her feel that way and hadn't truly doubted her. It was a moment of weakness brought on by anger.

"Tell me about it when I return," Gregory insisted. "I won't be a moment."

William nodded and watched his friend walk away. Part of him felt he should be at home begging Charlotte to forgive him, but he couldn't bring himself to see the pain in her beautiful blue eyes. It made him feel like the lowest form of life on earth.

"So, this is what love feels like," he muttered.

William now understood why being in love was both a blessing and a curse. It made a person vulnerable, unpredictable and volatile. He didn't like not being in control.

He pulled his head back when a glass appeared before his face. "Drink up," his friend said. "You need it."

William thanked him and gulped half his brandy before placing the glass beside him. It burned going down and made him cough slightly. He wasn't one to consume alcohol like that, but the occasion called for it.

"Now, tell me all about it," Gregory insisted. "It's obvious you need to get something off your chest."

"It's more that I need to get a person to leave me alone," said William. "Henry has put his entire body in my marriage and caused problems. Normally, your family just sticks their heads in your marriage because they cannot seem to help but get involved, but Henry took it too far."

"Your brother never does anything by half measures," said Gregory sympathetically.

"No, he doesn't," William agreed. "He wants Charlotte and even followed us to London to achieve his goal. I thought I could manage it, but I let my emotions get the better of me and hurt my wife."

Gregory raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"I doubted her."

Gregory winced. "You doubted her? Do not tell me you believe she has anything to do with your brother besides being his sister-in-law?"

William shook his head. "No, I don't. It was just a moment of madness, but it hurt my wife, and now I do not know where I stand with her."

Gregory sighed and held his forehead. "Women are sensitive about these things, old fellow. Did you at least apologize?"

"I tried to, but she wouldn't hear of it," William replied. "She just cried and cried. I couldn't bear it, so I have given her time."

"How much time?"

"A few days."

Gregory shook his head. "That is not good. A man might need time to get his head around things, but a woman expects him to run after her."

"Even when she says she doesn't want to see him?"

"She is your wife and cares for you," said Gregory. "She only said that because she's hurt. She is not a random woman running away from a man pestering her. You are married—you are supposed to make her feel at ease and happy. You should have groveled."

William knocked back the rest of his brandy and returned the glass to the table a little harder than he expected.

"How am I supposed to know these things?" he asked. "I do not have experience with women! I believe them if they say they do not wish to see me."

Gregory shook his head. "You have much to learn about women, old fellow."

"Evidently," said William.

He was supposed to feel better after speaking to his friend, but he felt worse. William had not spoken to his wife in days, but it wasn't easy. He felt alone during meal times and often watched her when she thought she wasn't looking just to see her. William wanted to be close to her, but he kept his distance because he believed that was what she wanted. Now, he knew better and no longer wondered if he had worsened the situation. He had.

"Do not look so forlorn," said Gregory. "There is still a chance to make things right. From what I have seen, she has affection for you. She may be angry and hurt, but she will give you a chance to explain. However, you need to settle the matter with your brother. He cannot be allowed to come between you."

William nodded. "You're right. I'll confront him and warn him to stop having intentions toward my wife, or he will never appear before us again. I do not care that he is my brother. He needs to learn there are limits to everything. I have let him get away with many things, but Charlotte is different."

Gregory reached out and patted his shoulder. "I'm glad you have finally grown a backbone where your brother is concerned," he said. "It was difficult holding my tongue or fists whenever I saw him, but I doubt he'll be a problem once you put your foot down."

William was surprised. Gregory had done a good job keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself because he had never shown any anger around Henry.

"Tell me, how is Lady Louise?" Gregory asked. "She wasn't well a few days ago."

Gregory tried to make the question appear casual, but William had seen the spark between his friend and sister-in-law. Their age gap was rather significant, though. Gregory was more than double her age, but he came across as someone younger.

"Is that why you didn't go to the ball?" William asked. "Because she wouldn't be there?"

Gregory looked away. "I'm merely concerned about her well-being," he said. "Is that so wrong? Besides, I was busy that evening."

"Hmm."

"I was," Gregory insisted.

"Well, my sister-in-law is doing well," William told him. "You should come by and see for yourself."

Gregory's cheeks grew pink. He never blushed. "Perhaps. When I have time."

William inwardly chuckled. "You do that." He stood up. "I, on the other hand, must go home and bring this stressful matter to an end. Wish me luck."

He was going to need it.

***

William arrived home only to find out his brother was nowhere to be found. However, he had left a short note that he needed to return home. William still needed to speak to him, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about his brother being near his wife for a little while. Now, it was a matter of speaking to Charlotte. Nerves fluttered in his belly at the thought. He couldn't recall being this nervous about anything—not even his wedding day.

The sound of a carriage approaching prompted him to look out the window. Charlotte had returned home. William thought about waiting for her in the parlor, but she might take one look at him and walk away. He needed a chance to speak to her, so perhaps catching her by surprise might be the only way to make this happen.

"The foyer," he decided, quickly rising to his feet.

Much to his servants' surprise, he ran out of the room and paced the foyer's length because he couldn't stand still. However, he paused when he heard her speaking just on the other side of the door. This was his moment to rectify his wrongs.

His butler entered the foyer and gave a little start when he saw William. "Your Grace," he said. "Is there something you need?"

William shook his head. "Just do as you were about to," he told him.

The butler nodded and bowed slightly. "Yes, Your Grace."

He opened the door and stood back to allow Charlotte to walk in. At first, she didn't see William, so he stood by silently and waited for her to notice him. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face and down his neck. He took out his handkerchief and dabbed his brow, not surprised to find his hands were also clammy. His nervousness was getting the best of him.

"Templeton, would you please..." Charlotte's words trailed away when her eyes finally fell on him. "William."

He hastily tucked his damp handkerchief into his pocket. "Charlotte. May I speak with you for a moment? Please."

That please sounded pitiful and needy even to his ears. He could only imagine what the servants were thinking. They had undoubtedly noticed the tension between their master and mistress and wondered about it.

To his surprise and hope, Charlotte smiled a little. "Certainly." Her smile fell away. "I need to speak to you as well."

"We can talk in the parlor," he said. "Perhaps over tea?"

"Tea sounds lovely," she replied.

William looked at his butler, who nodded and hurried away. He wanted to offer his arm to Charlotte just as an excuse to have her close to him again, but he decided against it. They needed to speak first, so they walked side by side in silence until they were settled in the parlor.

"May I speak first?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Go ahead."

"I know this might be difficult to hear, but I cannot keep it to myself any longer," she began. "Henry has made me uncomfortable from the very beginning of our marriage. I have tried to be a good wife and sister-in-law by ignoring his behavior or explaining it away, but after what happened at the ball, I can no longer do that. He caused a rift between us, and you doubted me."

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry," William quickly replied. "Please, forgive me. I knew he was misbehaving, but I..." He sighed, running a hand through his head. "I do not know why I let the matter get to this point. I should have confronted him long ago, and now he has left."

"He left?" Charlotte asked.

William nodded. "He left a note. I do not want you to ever worry about him again, not even when we return home. I am going to speak to him about his behavior—I promise. But I need you to please forgive me. I cannot continue this way. I should have never doubted you even for a second because I do not believe you have done anything wrong.

It was just my pride and anger speaking that night at the ball. I have wanted to apologize so many times, but I was afraid you wouldn't want to see or speak to me, so I've kept my distance."

"I understand," Charlotte replied.

"You do?" he asked. "You really do? Because I am willing to grovel if needed. I was a fool and hurt you. I cannot explain how I felt hearing you cry. I felt like I was walking on thousands of hot needles piercing my flesh."

The side of Charlotte's mouth partially lifted. "It was that terrible?"

"Worse," William said. "So much worse. I never wish to experience that again."

Charlotte smiled. "Then we should move on and learn from our mistakes," she said. "This time has also been difficult for me, but I'm happy we have reached a satisfactory conclusion."

William's body collapsed slightly in his chair. His relief was so great that he could barely move, but he was happy. Charlotte had forgiven him—that was all that mattered.