William smiled, dropping the hand that held the letter. She was so very good at making him laugh. Although he didn’t feel his best, he was excited at the prospect of spending some time with Charlotte this evening. The theater always proved to be a romantic evening. Laughing alongside someone who you are very fond of was often preferable to laughing on one’s one.
It seemed that no longer was he afraid of falling for her. He had already done it. He had been lying at the bottom of the gorge, confused for so long. Now he was finally standing up and finally taking in the view. There was no way out. Not from down here. It was beautiful, and it was the very best life could offer, even if it did inevitably swallow him whole.
What an honor it would be to waste away while loving her.
It had happened so fast that he hadn’t really remembered a time when he didn’t feel a burn for her. It wasn’t just lust like he had hoped. It was feeling and emotion. She had so easily vexed him, but the challenge was delightful and the time he spent with her was well worth it. She had so easily made a happy man out of him. Octavia could never.
If she would never marry him, then so be it. The only thing he could do was try to change her mind. It didn’t seem likely, but if all he could do was show her how much he cared for her, then that he could do.
Perhaps he would never have Charlotte the way he wanted her, but he would still be able to rest knowing very well that he had tried.
* * *
The carriage rolled to a stop. “Do you really think he will be here tonight?” Arabella asked.
“Lord Holdford is a man of his word, and incredibly persuasive. I believe Lord Stanton will be in attendance.”
“I truly hope so. I have wished to see him since our dance together. Oh, Charlotte, he is a perfect gentleman.”
“And very handsome.”
“That is true,” Arabella said, her cheeks glowing red.
The door opened and the elderly butler who joined as a chaperone helped them out onto the cobblestone drive. The theater was glowing in the evening with soft amber light. It had been some time since Charlotte had seen a play, and, due to her seatmate, it could have gone much better. Tonight, however, she would be enjoying a performance from her spot beside one of the handsomest men of theton. It seemed almost too good to be true.
While Charlotte was entranced by the beauty of the theater in London, the noise of gravel crunching underfoot drew her gaze back down. She smiled as she watched William and Edward approach and from her side, she heard her sister gasp softly.
“Lord Holdford,” Charlotte said. “I wondered if you were in any state to show up tonight after the way you carried yourself in our correspondence.”
“So that is why you said yes? Did you wish to torment me while I am in such a state?” he asked. “I can assure you. I am perfectly capable of enjoying a night at the theater, however…”
“Loud,” Lord Stanton mumbled, rubbing his forehead.
“My lord, I was not sure if you would come,” Arabella said, her voice nearly a whisper.
“Of course, My Grace,” he bowed. “I would not miss the occasion once I heard that you would make an appearance.”
“Oh,” Arabella exhaled softly, staring up at him like her eyes were rapidly growing in size. It was almost comical how different Charlotte and her sister acted around men. Charlotte refused to simper over a man. It was much more desirable the other way around.
William and Lord Stanton offered their arms and escorted the ladies into the entrance. The foyer was beautiful. The marble floors were accented with heavy red runner rugs. Beautiful hardwood accents ornamented the walls and small flames danced away on candle sconces. With excitement, Charlotte pressed her fingers into William’s arm. He looked down at her.
“Have you watched much Shakespeare?”
She shrugged. “I love Lady MacBeth. I would have been much more pleased if Ophelia arose from her watery grave with the same vigor and commitment.”
“Maybe tonight she will surprise us. Although I was not made aware of any revisions in the works,” he said, laughing. “I believe that might be quite entertaining.”
“I should consider writing such a revision myself,” Charlotte hummed.
The group walked up the grand marble staircase and advanced down the hallway, until they spotted William’s private box. He opened the door, allowing his guests to step inside. Charlotte sat on a red velvet chair overlooking the stage. On the railing of the box, tiny candles flickered and popped. They cast a romantic glow over the theater, and it was then that Charlotte realized just how much closer she had hoped William’s chair would be.
Thankfully, the elderly butler took a seat at the far of the box, but he was still too close for any sort of misbehavior. He yawned, retrieving a newspaper from his pocket and unfurled the sheet.
William sat beside her and smiled. Usually, his smile was sardonic and smug, but this smile was different. Perhaps a bit more human, a bit warmer and friendlier. Instead of thinking of something rude to say to her, it simply looked like he was happy to see her. She was happy to see him too, only she would never admit it.
“Lady Macbeth, huh?” he asked, thumbing through the program. He glanced up at her.
“Of course. She’s very interesting.”