Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

A ndrew paced up and down his study, his mind tormented. No matter what he did, he could not get his thoughts free from Miss Hawick. The sadness that had been within her when they had spoken at the soiree – a soiree which had been some two evenings ago – had hit him hard, and the weight of his guilt had seemed to increase significantly to the point that he had struggled to bear up beneath it. Yes, he still had the frustration of being unable to continue to live just as he pleased, the upset of being forced to wed when he did not want to do such a thing, but the realization of just what he had done to Miss Hawick had broken apart all of that. Now, he found himself deeply sorrowful, filled with regret, and troubled with the guilt and shame that seemed to want to remind him of his foolishness at every moment.

He had not stepped out into society since that soiree. Lord Glenfield had come to call, but Andrew had told him that he was not feeling particularly well, and needed to rest and, thus, his friend had taken his leave. It had been an excuse, of course, for Andrew was quite well, within himself. For some reason, he simply did not want to have any sort of company.

"What can be done?"

Walking up to the window of his study and looking out at the street below, Andrew took in the carriages and the passers-by, knowing full well that most of them would be speaking of his connection to Miss Hawick. Lord Glenfield had been the one to inform him that the ton was now full of whisperings and the like about his courtship of the lady – with some questioning whether or not he really meant it – and that had brought Andrew no pleasure whatsoever. Instead, he had shrunk back from it, deciding to hide himself away for a short while, simply so that he could avoid the ton 's scrutiny – though it could not be avoided forever.

Closing his eyes, Andrew dropped his head to the glass of the window, feeling the cool sensation of it against his skin. In only a few days, his entire life had been altered. That had been the consequences of his own actions but, at the same time, it had pulled Miss Hawick in with him. She'd had no say in the matter, had been forced into this marriage because of what he had done – and she was broken-hearted over it.

Andrew lifted his head from the glass, disliking the fact that his heart was so pained over the lady. He did not want to be affected by her, did not want to find himself troubled because of her sadness and yet, he could not help it. What was worse was that, yes, she did not want to marry him, but he recognized that it was because of his character, because of who he was, that she was so sorrowful. He was not a kind fellow, he was not a considerate or generous sort. What she had leveled at him during their brief conversation at the soiree had been quite true, he was selfish and arrogant, thinking of no one but himself. Having any thoughts of others, or permitting himself to be concerned about them, was not something which he had ever dwelt upon.

But now, he was being forced to.

Sighing, Andrew turned around and made his way back to the middle of the drawing-room, flinging himself down onto one of the couches, only to rise again and shove one hand through his hair. Why could he not forget about her? Why was it that her sadness had such an effect on him? It was not as though he could do anything about it now, it was not as if he would be able to change their circumstances. She was to be courted by him, he would soon propose, and they would, once the banns had been called, wed.

But I could attempt to be a little kinder. More considerate. She is to be my wife, after all! Are we always to be this fraught? Or could I, in accepting this, in accepting her , try to be more thoughtful of her emotions? Yes, she sees me as I truly am… might there be a way where I could change that. Would that not make for a better relationship between us? After all, if I am to take her as my wife, I must be considering our future.

He swallowed as a tightness came into his throat, thinking of his future. What would it be like to have her by his side, always sorrowful, always broken-hearted, always despondent? I do not think I could bear it, he thought to himself, raking his other hand through his hair, fully aware it now was a wild mop rather than carefully placed. I may not like this circumstance, but I do not want Charlotte to be sorrowful every day of our marriage.

Andrew dropped his hand back to his side, acknowledging to himself that he could certainly attempt to be a little more amiable in his interactions with her, instead of letting his frustration and upset rule his tongue. With a scowl, he found his legs taking him to his writing desk and, sitting down, put his hand to the quill.

He did not know what it was that he wanted to write. All he could see was Miss Hawick's blue eyes filled with tears as she looked back at him, the single teardrop falling to her cheek. The pain in her eyes, the sadness in her expression, and the brokenness of her heart cried out to him. Dipping the quill into the ink, the words began to flow.

Weariness haunts your inner soul,

The pain of a heart shattered.

My cold fingers placed it there,

Stealing away your joy.

Purposeless or purposeful,

Our path remains the same.

We are bound and we are tied,

Never again to be free.

There is no respite from the pain,

Your heart is heavy still.

I own it all, my regret severe,

The darkness like my shadow.

He lifted the quill and blinked, staring down at the words on the page. He had never written anything like that before, had never once merely opened his heart and let it speak. Those words were the very story going on with his heart, the description of all he was feeling. Closing his eyes, Andrew took a breath and then, after a moment, continued to write.

"Miss Hawick, Lady Morton, Miss Hawick."

Andrew inclined his head as the lady to whom he was paying his attentions descended from the carriage, though she did not look up into his face. Rather, she kept her gaze to the left, bobbing a curtsey as she did so.

"Good afternoon, Lord Kentmore." Perhaps catching the way that Lady Morton lifted one eyebrow very carefully, Miss Hawick continued quickly, though there was no hint of happiness in either her expression or her voice. "It was very kind of you to invite me out for a walk through St James' Park."

"We are courting now, Miss Hawick, are we not?" Andrew offered her his arm, giving a smile to Lady Morton who returned it with a nod, as though to say that she trusted him with her daughter, as Miss Lillian Hawick simply smiled. "I must spend as much time with you as I can."

Lady Morton beamed at him with this remark though Miss Hawick did not respond, aside from taking his arm. Together, they strolled into the park a little more, with Lady Morton and her other daughter following after them a short distance away.

"You say such pretty things in front of my mother while, at the very same time, giving no clear explanation to me as to why you have been absent from society for almost a sennight!" Miss Hawick's voice was low, but there was a hint of upset in it. "I have had many a person coming to speak to me about my courtship and they have asked me where you are, given that you have not been present, and I have had no answer to give them!"

Shame flung itself in Andrew's face.

"Forgive me. I needed some time to consider a good many things."

"I see." She shook her head. "And evidently, it was too much for you to consider even writing me a short note to inform me of it? You can imagine that there have been some… whispers… as to where you might be, and why you might have removed yourself from society."

Andrew closed his eyes briefly, realizing now that he had never once thought of what might happen during his time away from society.

"I did not imagine for a moment that anything would be said."

"You mean to say that you did not think about the situation at all. You know as well as I that society likes to whisper about anything it can and, it was more than willing to speak of my courtship with a rogue – a rogue who, some said, went to Bath simply to escape me, realizing that he had made a mistake!"

Guilt wrapped around his heart and Andrew swallowed thickly.

"I am sorry for my lack of consideration. I needed some time to think about our circumstances, to really consider what it is that has happened between us and what must now occur. It has taken me some time to, first of all, accept it and, thereafter, to consider how I must behave."

She looked at him.

"And what have you decided?"

Andrew drew himself up.

"Miss Hawick, I think it important to inform you that I have come to a decision as regards our future."

Miss Hawick's expression did not change, her fair curls blowing gently in the wind.

"I see. And what decision is that? Is it that you shall end the courtship regardless, and leave me without any reputation whatsoever?"

Her harsh reaction had him scowling, and he was about to fire some hard words back towards her, only to remind himself of just how troubled she must be at present. That was the reason for her response, the reason for her upset and he was not about to make it worse.

"I promise you, Miss Hawick, I will never do any such thing as that." His hand found itself upon hers, just as it had done at the soiree, though he kept his fingers there for only a few moments, not wishing for her to react badly to his touch. "I am committed to this connection, you understand. I do not like how it has come about – as I am certain you do not either – but in considering it all, I have concluded that there is very little point in fighting it. Therefore, Miss Hawick, I should like to do all that I can to know you better, not just because I might one day be forced to answer questions from the ton, but also because I would like to know the lady who is to be my wife." Seeing the way her eyes widened, Andrew offered her a small smile, praying that she would not reject him immediately, not when it had taken him such a long time to come to this point. It had been near a sennight now since the soiree and, given that he had remained in his townhouse for those days, thinking and considering, he wanted very much for Miss Hawick to see that he was genuine in his request.

Miss Hawick frowned.

"You think that you will be able to charm me, Lord Kentmore?"

"Charm you?"

She nodded, her tone icy.

"You are just as much a rogue as you ever were. I am sure that you will try anything to make me feel a little warmer towards you, will you not?" A hint of color came into her cheeks as she spoke, her chin lifting. "I am not about to be taken in."

Again, anger struck hard at Andrew's heart, but he fought it back, reminding himself of the pain and the sorrow which must be very present in her heart. It was a most unusual sensation, for he had never once done such a thing before and indeed, it was a battle but, as he looked into her face and saw the gentle glint of tears in her eyes, his heart ached with regret all over again.

"I can understand why you might think that I am not at all to be trusted," he said, slowly. "But I have been considering these last few days and considering severely." He swallowed tightly, then looked at her. "I do not want you to be sorrowful with every day that passes, Miss Hawick. If there is a way for us to move forward to a situation where we can, at least, tolerate each other, I should be glad to find it."

Miss Hawick glanced at him, though Andrew caught the slight tremble about her lips.

"I do not know if such a thing can be. I fear that you will always be angry that I have taken away your freedom and I, mayhap, shall always be upset that such a thing occurred… and that I did not respond as I ought to have done."

Andrew looked at her sharply.

"Whatever do you mean? You behaved perfectly well and–"

"I did not." Miss Hawick's eyes glinted as though she were holding back tears, though her voice remained steady. "I recognize that there is blame here, Lord Kentmore, not just with you but also with myself."

Andrew shook his head, a little surprised at her words, but feeling them stab a sharp stake into his conscience.

"No, indeed, Miss Hawick. There is no guilt on your part. None whatsoever."

"Yes, there is." She turned, stopping sharply and pulling her hand from his arm. "Had I pulled back, had I exclaimed aloud, then my sister would never have seen anything, would never have insisted that we wed. Do you not understand, Lord Kentmore? Just because you have the burden of responsibility does not mean that a similar responsibility has not set itself upon my shoulders also! I should have made it perfectly clear to you that I was not who you thought me to be and, mayhap then, I might have been spared all of this. We might have been spared this."

Shaking his head, his throat closing up at the pain in her eyes, Andrew grasped both of her hands in his and leaned closer to her, a vehemence in his chest that threatened to explode at any moment.

"I shall not have you bear any responsibility for this in any way, Miss Hawick, not for one moment. You must understand, this is entirely my doing and whether you ought to have moved away or not has no bearing. I cannot imagine what must have happened at that moment. You cannot blame yourself for the shock and the fright which captured you, I will not have it." He pressed her hands. "Please. I can see that this has already caused you a great deal of pain and to have this burden upon yourself when you have no reason to carry it must only be adding to that."

Miss Hawick sniffed lightly but kept her gaze steady, looking back at him though she remained silent. Andrew said nothing further, waiting for her to respond, waiting for her to wrestle through what it was he had said. Then, slowly, she pulled her hands out of his.

"I appreciate that you are willing to take on the sole responsibility," she said, making to walk along the path again rather than standing opposite him. "Your concern for my welfare is surprising but appreciated."

Andrew's lips quirked, reminding himself that Miss Hawick was blunt in her honesty though, mayhap, he would have to become used to that.

"I did hear you when you told me that I was nothing but arrogant and selfish," he said, as she blushed furiously, looking away. "You are not mistaken, Miss Hawick. I will, however, attempt to be more considerate of you, since we are to be husband and wife."

Her blue eyes caught his.

"Though you still intend to return to your… appetites once we are returned from our wedding trip."

The statement made him recoil. He did not know what to say, for part of him wanted to be very clear indeed that he would do whatever he wished, whenever he wished to do it while, yet at the very same time, the thought of the agony of such a thing would bring to her silenced him from saying those words. Instead, he took a deep breath, shrugged, and chose to say nothing, though he caught the way that she slumped a little at his response before drawing herself up again.

"Oh, good afternoon! How unexpected to see you out, Lord Kentmore! I did not know that you had recovered."

Andrew smiled briefly.

"Lord Glenfield, good afternoon. This is the first day that I have ventured out of my townhouse."

"Recovered?" Miss Hawick glanced at Andrew and then back to Lord Glenfield. "I do not understand."

Lord Glenfield gestured to Andrew, his smile warm.

"Lord Kentmore informed me that he was unwell. I am glad to see that it was not long-lasting."

Miss Hawick's lips pursed.

"I see."

"Might I ask if you are here for a purpose?" Andrew asked quickly, attempting to change the course of the conversation. "Or have you just come to take the air?"

A broad smile crossed Lord Glenfield's face.

"I have come to see if I might walk with Miss Lillian Hawick for a time. She informed me that she would be here this afternoon, and I saw my opportunity to further my connection." He tipped his head, looking at Andrew carefully. "I have also a copy of The London Chronicle in which there is another poem. Miss Hawick informed me previously that she was most interested in them, so I must hope that she finds this one to be just as intriguing, though it is markedly different from the others."

"Different?"

Andrew's surprise sent pins and needles through his frame, hearing Miss Hawick's interest. He said nothing, however, casting Lord Glenfield a sharp look that told him, he prayed, to say nothing about Andrew being the author.

A small nod came from Lord Glenfield, though he turned his attention directly to Miss Hawick.

"Yes, indeed, it is very changed from the previous poems." He held out the paper to her. "Should you like to read it?"

Something flared in Andrew's chest at the way that Miss Hawick hesitated, finding himself eagerly desiring her to take hold of the paper and read the words he had written. Despite telling himself repeatedly that he did not care what she thought of them, his heart hoped that she would find something in it to approve of.

Eventually, she took it.

Andrew's heart began to pound as she found the poem and, bending her head, began to read. He shifted a little so as to make out her expression, seeing the way that her blue eyes rounded at the edges, how her eyebrows lifted and, in observing that, he let a broad smile spread across his face.

Lord Glenfield cleared his throat, and Andrew quickly snapped that smile from his face, realizing just how close he had come to giving himself away.

"Well." Miss Hawick handed the paper back to Lord Glenfield, her lips curving into a soft smile. "I think that my sister may be a little disappointed, for it does not speak fervently of love, as the other ones have done."

She glanced at Andrew, then let her gaze fall to the ground, her hands clasping lightly in front of her. Andrew, a little confused, frowned, only for the realization of what she was thinking to become shockingly clear to him. She was remaining silent, keeping her thoughts and her opinions to herself, evidently believing that he had no interest in hearing what she had to say. Yet again, another swell of regret crashed into him, and he gestured to her, trying to smile.

"Please, do tell us your thoughts, Miss Hawick."

Her eyes caught his for a brief moment.

"Are you quite certain that you wish to hear my opinion?"

Lord Glenfield chuckled.

"Even if he does not, I should be glad to."

This made Miss Hawick smile and, much to Andrew's surprise, jealousy ran right through him, stealing his breath for a moment. He blinked and then looked away, frowning hard at his own, unexpected, reaction.

"Then I shall say that I think it a most unexpected poem, so different from the others that I wonder if it is by the same author!" Miss Hawick spread out her hands. "This does not speak of love, not in the way that one would expect, at least, but there is certainly a good deal of honesty within those words, I think." Her hands fell back to her sides. "To my mind, it has a greater reach in its emotion, speaking truth through carefully chosen words. I think I prefer it to the other poems thus far - though, as I have said, I do not know if it is by the same author."

"It is."

The words flung themselves from Andrew's mouth before he could prevent them, seeing not only Miss Hawick looking at him in surprise but also Lord Glenfield, clearly astonished that he was being so bold.

"That is to say, I know who the author is, and I can assure you, it is the very same person," Andrew clarified, heat beginning to build in his chest and spread up towards his neck. "I am certain that he will be glad to hear that you have enjoyed it, Miss Hawick. How the ton shall consider it remains to be seen!"

"And with that, I must take my leave and speak with your sister, Miss Hawick." Lord Glenfield smiled and inclined his head. "Good afternoon."

Andrew stepped back towards Miss Hawick and, almost before he had offered her his arm, her hand had reached towards him, as though she was now expecting him to be there. A small smile played about his lips as they began to walk together again, and he felt as though a bridge had begun to be built between them, as though a vast chasm was slowly being closed. Thinking of her reaction to his poem made that smile grow all the more and, though the silence between them continued, Andrew's heart lifted with a sense of contentment and happiness.

It was all most extraordinary.