“I suppose he blamed Sally.” Meg painted a vivid picture of Sally’s first husband.
Charles shouldn’t be surprised at what he heard. He’d picked up immediately that Sally bore scars from the past. His anger gradually dissipated.
“He never said so in my hearing, although we all knew he did. It speaks volumes for her strength of character that she managed to keep as much spirit as she has.”
Poor Sally. Charles had no difficulty understanding how marriage to such a man had damaged her generous soul. Lord Norwood’s conceit and crassness would eat away at her sense of herself as worthy of affection. Domest
ic tyranny was a cruel punishment for such a lively creature.
And there was no escape if a woman believed the marriage vow sacrosanct, as he suspected Sally did. She’d never seek reassurance in another man’s arms. Instead she’d endure with as much grace and courage as she could, while loneliness grew and grew, until it threatened to devour her.
Compassion so strong it was like a physical pain gripped him as he imagined her ten years with Norwood. She couldn’t even find consolation in the love of her children. After observing Sally’s dealings with Meg and Amy and Morwenna, he knew that the woman he wanted to marry had a huge capacity for love.
It was one of the things he found most powerfully attractive about her.
His anger returned, this time directed at Lord Norwood. “He didn’t mistreat her, did he?”
The idea of anyone hurting Sally made his stomach heave. He clenched his hands against the arms of the chair. He wanted to fight dragons for her, but it turned out the dragon blighting her life was dead and eternally out of his reach. Bugger it.
Meg shook her head. “There was no talk in the family that he did. But violence isn’t the only cruelty. He used to leave her alone in the country month after month and come up to Town to chase Cyprians. The fatter the better. And if I know that, I’m sure Aunt Sally does.”
He frowned at Meg. “You shouldn’t understand such things.”
She shrugged. “Society acts like young girls have neither ears nor the brains to work out what those ears are hearing. Of course I know about the ladies of Covent Garden and their sisters.”
What was the point of disapproval? He shook his head in disbelief at this coil he found himself in. No wonder his courtship hadn’t prospered. “If Sally’s so willfully blind to her attractions, how the devil is a man to break through to her?”
Meg studied him thoughtfully. “Perhaps pouncing is the way forward.”
“I doubt it. Tonight she wouldn’t even look at me—and she flirted with every dam…dashed fellow in that room. Every fellow but me.”
“Actually that might be a good sign.”
He regarded Meg in disbelief. “How the deuce could that be a good sign?”
To his surprise, she reached over and clasped his hand in brief encouragement. “Something has frightened her—I can see that. Can’t you?”
He straightened and pulled away. “You’re not saying she’s scared of me?”
“If she’s attracted to you, she would be terrified, I suspect.”
He sent her a narrow-eyed look. “You’re trying to bolster my confidence.”
“I’m trying to tell you not to give up on her—but perhaps change your tactics.”
“Pounce?”
Meg nodded firmly. “Pounce.”
Charles’s response was lost as Helena approached, carrying a candle. “You two have been away a long time.”
“We started talking, Lady West.” Still struggling to come to terms with what he’d learned tonight, Charles stood at his hostess’s arrival. “It’s my fault. I should have returned Miss Meg to the drawing room half an hour ago.”
“No matter. We’re not looking to make a scandal.”
He struggled to pin a smile to his face, but it was difficult when his mind was in complete tumult. Marry Meg? What an utterly ludicrous idea. Sally had bats in her belfry. “We’ll go and make our peace with her chaperone.”
Helena shook her head. “Sally went to bed just after you left. That’s why I’m tonight’s guardian of propriety.”