“Fair enough,” she shrugged. “Just not now,” she repeated. The repetition was designed to provoke because likewise, she believed hardly anything he was saying to her.
Just not now because you are unlucky? Just not now because you are heartbroken? Just not now because you are taking advantage of your youth while it still serves you? Why not now, but certainly later?
He scoffed once more. “You do not believe me?”
“Oh, I never said that.” She didn’t have to. “It is you that I believe has been hurt before, but if you think you can rise above it, then by all means. That is a beautiful sentiment.”
He looked angry for a moment, his brows narrowed, his brown eyes swirling like a storm on the horizon, and his shoulders squared. After a moment, however, he relaxed. “And if I admit it? Then what will you admit?”
Charlotte could not help herself. She stifled a laugh with her palm, looking back up at him to see if he was serious. He was. Talk about odd. “If you so fully believe that I am lying, then maybe I should court someone just to prove it.”
He laughed again and he leaned in close enough that his heated breath sent a shiver down her spine. “I should very much like to see that.”
“Who should it be then? I have no prospects. I do not know if you can tell, but I am not the standard of beauty.”
He shook his head. “That makes you all the more lovely,” he said. Now it was him that was blushing. Naturally, Charlotte refused to blush to establish her superiority, which was incredibly difficult and perhaps not even possible. William cleared his throat, obviously flustered by his lack of control. “Nothing? Not one prospect?” he asked. Yet the whole time, Charlotte’s lips burned as she was certain he was staring at them.
“Not one.”
“You are right,” he said. “I did get my heart broken. That is not to complain, only to say that my family has been worried about me, and their pity is only serving to make me miserable.”
“Now you are being forthright?”
“If you believe yourself up to the challenge, then allow me to court you, but do not fall in love with me. I will not want to marry you and, in addition, my family will not worry about me any longer,” he said. “We both have something to prove, so what is to stop us from some competition this season?”
The way he had so easily suggested it gave Charlotte pause. She tried to swallow, but all of a sudden it was as if she forgot how to complete basic functions. Could he be trusted? Could she be sure that he would pose no danger to her reputation, when moments ago he was so eagerly looking at her mouth?
She knew it was a terrible idea. It almost beckoned disaster. If anyone found out that she had made such an arrangement, she would make a fool out of herself and her family. Arabella was still unattached. Charlotte didn’t want to make it difficult for her to find a good match.
But the idea that Lord Holdford so much as doubted her was enough to annoy her. The implication that a handsome man could have such control of her was insulting. She would love nothing more than to prove to him that she was the one in control. She always had been. No one could make her falter.
If Charlotte was one thing, it was not odd or even perplexing. She was stubborn, defiant, and pigheaded. She nodded assuredly. “I can certainly handle that. One season?”
“Just one,” he confirmed. And with that, the song ended, and he let her go. Without his touch, she stumbled back a step feeling only the memory of his desire coursing through her veins. He bowed, smirking, and offered his arm. She hesitantly accepted, and together they walked back towards Benedict. Halfway across the floor, William went rigid and he stepped to the side. Charlotte turned to look at him but he was as pale as the full moon.
“Are you ill, my lord?”
“You must…” he paused, stumbling to the side and glancing over his shoulder. “You must excuse me.”
And without even a bow, he left, walking in the direction of the double doors that led out to the garden. Charlotte looked back, but Benedict hadn’t seen her yet, so if she disappeared a moment, he wouldn’t know where she had gone. She followed William, stopping short at the doors before she exited, waiting to catch her breath. She had to make sense of how in the span of ten minutes, she had fully agreed to a courtship just toprovethat she was not interested in courtship. How ridiculous.
She could do it, but the feelings that had bloomed inside her when he so much as looked at her were beginning to make her nervous. From her side it was simply desire, but she worried about the possibility that it might be more for him. She wasn’t exactly interested in breaking any hearts herself. What if he fell in love with her? What if, worst of all, she fell in love with him? That was something that could not easily be remedied. Taking a breath and steeling herself, Charlotte opened the door and snuck out into the darkness of the gardens.
ChapterThree
Charlotte lifted her skirts and raced down the steps of the garden. Out on the grounds, the music inside the manor was dulled, rumbling like a heartbeat in the chilly night. Something felt poignant about nights like these. Far enough away from the city, the sky was a thick blanket of stars, and the moon was like a pillow. There it sat, neatly tucked above the world, soft, inviting, cool. Once Charlotte stepped into the grass, she worried she would stain her slippers, giving away her whereabouts, so she kicked them off and tucked them under a bush. She hadn’t come out here to misbehave, but if anyone found out, they would likely believe nothing else.
The gardens twisted into a labyrinth of hedges. The long corridors of greenery slowly dissipated into a lush clearing of flowers, with romantic nooks for sitting, and other areas that boasted tables for sharing a morning tea. It was quiet and peaceful and even though it was still quite early in the year, hardy flowers withstood the chill, dabbling the night in watercolor purples, blues, and passionate pinks. As Charlotte turned another corner, she stopped when she saw William sitting on a bench underneath a domed hedge that shielded him from the outside world.
“My Lord,” Charlotte whispered. He looked up at her and suddenly his melancholy drained. Her presence kicked up a fire in his eyes so vibrant that Charlotte no longer felt cold.
“What are you doing?”
“You left so suddenly,” she said, but it was hardly an answer. “And If I am being honest, I was very curious as to why.”
“So, this is not about compassion?”
Charlotte tilted her head, thinking it over. “No, I suppose not.”