Page 14 of A Baron’s Most Inconvenient Marriage (Delightful Lords and Ladies)

Chapter 14

“Three days?” Diana said from where she perched on the window seat, her needlework lying forgotten in her lap. “Three days since my brother summoned you about the mineral works, and not a word since. That is most unlike him.”

Charlotte’s paintbrush paused mid-stroke, hovering over the canvas where she had been capturing the facade of Blackthorn Hall’s east wing.

The morning light struck the ancient stones in a way that just seemed to emphasize both their grandeur and their vulnerability—rather like Sebastian himself, she thought, though she chose to keep that particular observation to herself.

“Your brother has many responsibilities,” she said carefully, studying the play of light and shadow on her canvas rather than meeting Diana’s knowing gaze. “The estate demands constant attention, I am sure.”

“The estate has demanded attention for as long as it has existed,” Diana countered, setting aside her embroidery with uncharacteristic impatience. “But I have never known Sebastian to begin a conversation about something seemingly important and then simply… vanish.”

The east wing’s shadows deepened beneath Charlotte’s brush, perhaps reflecting more of her inner turmoil than strict artistic accuracy required.

The great house seemed to hold its breath around them, its halls carrying whispers of past glory and present uncertainty.

“Perhaps he has realized I am not the proper sort of advisor for such… specific matters,” Charlotte suggested, though the words tasted bitter on her tongue. “After all, what do I know of mining operations beyond what I have learned from father’s books?”

“Enough to spot the structural weakness in the northern shaft before it became catastrophic,” Diana pointed out. “Sebastian told me your suggestions about reinforcing the tunnel joints were remarkably innovative.”

Charlotte felt her cheeks warm at the praise, even though it was second-hand. “Innovation is not always appreciated in established systems.”

“No,” Diana agreed softly. “Rather like certain people are not always appreciated in established society?”

Charlotte’s brush slipped, adding an unintended shadow to her painting. The mistake, she noticed with ironic amusement, actually improved the composition—rather like how her social missteps sometimes led to unexpected discoveries.

A memory of an unexpected discovery that ended with an excavation site collapsing around her sent her pulse speeding with an intensity that had absolutely nothing to do with the mortal danger the situation presented.

“Your mother certainly shares that view,” she said, attempting to keep her tone light. “Though she has been remarkably… restrained… since my arrival.”

“Restrained like a coiled spring, perhaps.” Diana rose with fluid grace that reminded Charlotte of Sebastian. “But that is not what troubles you most, is it? It is the silence. The way my brother seemed on the verge of saying something important that day in his study, before Mother interrupted with those urgent letters from London.”

Charlotte began cleaning her brushes, needing the familiar routine to steady her hands. “Diana…”

“You are good for him, you know.” Diana moved to study Charlotte’s painting, her dark head tilted in a gesture so like her brother’s that Charlotte’s heart clenched at the sight.

“I have not seen him this alive since before Father died. Even when he is worrying about the estate, there is a different quality to it now—less like he is drowning in duty, and more like he is actively solving puzzles.”

“Puzzles can have unexpected solutions,” Charlotte murmured, remembering how Sebastian’s eyes had lit up when he had sketched out her ideas for the mine shaft supports. “Not always comfortable ones.”

“Comfort,” Diana said with surprising firmness, “is highly overrated. Look at this painting, for example. You have managed perfectly to capture exactly how Blackthorn Hall feels in the morning light.”

“Not just it’s beauty, or its splendor—but its vulnerability, its need for both preservation and renewal. That is what my brother sees too, though he might not be ready to admit it yet.”

Charlotte studied her work with fresh eyes. She had painted the ancient stones with all their cracks and weathering, but also their enduring strength. The morning light caught the edges where old stonework met newer repairs, creating a harmony between past and present that spoke of continuity rather than decay.

“Three days of silence,” she said softly. “What am I to make of that, Diana?”

“Make of it that my brother is probably driving himself mad trying to reconcile duty with desire.” Diana’s hand found Charlotte’s, squeezing gently. “He has always been methodical to a fault, you know. Every decision must be examined from all angles, every consequence calculated…”

“While I tend to leap into things with hardly a thought for… well, anything?” Charlotte couldn’t quite keep the edge from her voice.

“While you see possibilities others might miss,” Diana corrected. “Like how adding that deeper shadow there actually strengthens the whole composition.”

Charlotte opened her mouth to respond, but a knock at the door interrupted whatever she might have said. Both ladies turned to find Lady Blackthorn’s personal maid regarding them with careful neutrality.

“Begging your pardon, Miss Fairfax, but her ladyship requests your presence in the morning room. She says it is a matter of some urgency.”

The morning room at Blackthorn Hall perfectly reflected its mistress—everything arranged with precise attention to both beauty and authority.

Light filtered through expensive lace curtains, creating patterns on the Persian carpet that reminded Charlotte of the delicate web of social obligations that had brought her here.

Lady Blackthorn sat like a queen holding court, her grey silk gown catching the light in a way that emphasized both its quality and its subtle intimidation.

“Miss Fairfax,” Lady Blackthorn’s voice held that particular blend of courtesy and command that Charlotte had always found fascinating, like watching a sword being sheathed in velvet. “Thank you for joining me. I trust I haven’t interrupted anything important?”

“Not at all, my lady.” Charlotte executed a perfect curtsy, thanking heaven for her mother’s relentless deportment lessons. “I was merely sketching the east wing while Diana worked on her embroidery.”

“Ah, yes, your artistic pursuits.” Lady Blackthorn gestured to a chair positioned just so—close enough for conversation, yet far enough to maintain proper distance. “I understand you have been… quite productive this morning.”

Charlotte settled into the indicated seat, noting how it placed her in slight shadow while leaving Lady Blackthorn illuminated. “Your home provides endless inspiration, my lady. The architecture alone-”

“Indeed.” Lady Blackthorn’s interruption was perfectly polite, yet somehow final. “Though I wonder if perhaps your attention might be better directed toward more … appropriate themes?”

“I am not quite sure I take your meaning, my lady.” Charlotte kept her voice steady, though her fingers wanted nothing more than to twist in her skirts.

“Don’t you?” Lady Blackthorn’s eyes—so like Sebastian’s in color but utterly unlike them in warmth—studied her with an uncomfortable intensity. “Three days ago, you were closeted with my son, discussing mining operations of all things. Hardly a suitable topic for a young lady’s attention.”

Charlotte felt heat rise to her cheeks but refused to look away. “The mineral works are crucial to Blackthorn Hall’s future, is they not, my lady? Surely any topic affecting the estate’s welfare deserves consideration?”

“By those qualified to give it, most certainly.” Lady Blackthorn’s fan opened with surgical precision. “Tell me, Miss Fairfax, what do you imagine your role here to be?”

The question carried layers of meaning like strata in the very rock they had been discussing. Charlotte chose her words with unusual care. “I am here at Diana’s invitation, my lady, as her friend and companion.”

“Are you?” the fan moved in a pattern that somehow suggested doubt without expressing it directly. “And I suppose your rather… unorthodox … discussions with my son about estate management are simply friendly conversation?”

“Sebastian values honest opinions,” Charlotte said, then wished she hadn’t used his given name when she saw Lady Blackthorn’s eyebrows rising fractionally.

“Lord Blackthorn,” the baroness emphasized the title, “values proper and correct behavior. As his mother, I have naturally observed his preferences quite closely over the years.”

“People can still surprise us, can they not?” Charlotte offered, thinking of how Sebastian’s careful mask had slipped when she had suggested solutions for the mine shaft. “Sometimes what we value most is not what others expect us to want.”

“How philosophical.” Lady Blackthorn’s tone suggested this wasn’t a compliment. “Though I wonder if perhaps you have mistaken professional courtesy for something more… personal?”

Charlotte felt as if the very air had been sucked out of the room, though she maintained her composure with effort. “I am not sure what you are implying, Lady Blackthorn.”

“I am implying nothing.” Lady Blackthorn rose with fluid grace, moving to adjust a perfectly positioned flower arrangement. “I am merely ensuring that certain… boundaries… remain clear. Sebastian has responsibilities that transcend personal inclination.”

“I am well aware of his duties to the estate,” Charlotte said, proud of how steady her voice remained.

“Are you?” Lady Blackthorn turned, fixing Charlotte with a penetrating gaze. “Then you must also be aware that his rather prolonged absence these past days suggests he has reached similar conclusions about… proper priorities.”

The words struck with precision and accuracy, finding vulnerabilities Charlotte had not known she possessed. But before she could respond, the door opened to admit Diana, her face flushed with some suppressed emotion.

“Mother,” Diana’s voice carried an unusual note of challenge. “I believe you promised to review the household accounts this morning? Mrs. Colborne is waiting in your study.”

“Ah, yes.” Lady Blackthorn’s smile held perfected social grace. “Thank you for reminding me, dear. Miss Fairfax, do excuse me. Though, perhaps you might consider what we have discussed? Some decisions are better when made… voluntarily, I find.”

As the door closed behind the baroness’s elegant exit, Diana turned to Charlotte with worried eyes. “What did she say to you? You are as pale as one of your canvas grounds.”

Charlotte forced a smile. “Nothing that I had not already considered myself,” she rose, needing movement to steady herself. “Though, I wonder…”

“What?”

“If she is correct about Sebastian’s absence… meaning he has reached certain… conclusions.” Charlotte moved to the window, watching as a gentle breeze stirred the garden below. “Three days of silence do rather suggest—”

A commotion in the courtyard interrupted her words. Both ladies leaned forward to see Sebastian dismounting from a clearly hard-ridden horse, his usual appearance showing signs of travel and strain. As if sensing their gaze, he looked up, his eyes finding Charlotte’s with an intensity that made her breath catch audibly.

“Well,” Diana said softly, “I rather suspect we are about to discover exactly what conclusions my brother has reached.”

“I should go,” Charlotte whispered, her fingers pressed against the cool glass of the windowpane. “Your mother would hardly approve of me receiving Sebastian without proper—”

“If you dare to move a single step toward that door,” Diana interrupted with uncharacteristic firmness, “I shall be forced to question everything I believed about your courage.”

Before Charlotte could respond, Sebastian’s footsteps echoed in the hallway—those precise, measured steps she had learned to recognize, though now they carried an unusual urgency. Her heart performed a series of complicated maneuvers that would have impressed even the most accomplished acrobat.

He then appeared in the doorway like a portrait come to life, his usual immaculate appearance bearing evidence of hard travel.

His dark hair was windswept, his cravat slightly askew, and a light dusting of earth marked his otherwise perfect coat. But it was his eyes that caught and held Charlotte’s attention… gray as storm clouds and filled with some emotion she dared not attempt to name.

“Charlotte.” Her name on his lips carried weight, like a theory finally proven. “I was not expecting to find you here.”

“I was just leaving,” Diana announced with suspicious promptness. “I believe I hear Mother calling.”

“Diana—” Charlotte began, but her friend was already slipping past her brother with remarkable efficiency.

“Three days,” Sebastian said after a moment of weighted silence. “I owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me nothing, my lord.” Charlotte turned back to the window, needing its solid presence to steady her. “Your mother has made it quite clear that my presence here—”

“Damn my mother’s clarity.” The oath, so unlike Sebastian’s usual speech, made Charlotte turn in surprise.

He stood watching her with an intensity that made her breath threaten to seize altogether, his customary mask of propriety showing cracks she had never, in all the years that she had known him, seen before.

“Sebastian?”

“I have spent three days inspecting every mine shaft in Yorkshire,” he said, moving closer with the deliberate grace of a man who had reached some momentous decision. “Every technique of support, every method of reinforcement, every possible way to prevent collapse.”

“I do not understand.” She said, though something in his tone made her pulse quicken.

“Your solution for the northern shaft,” he continued, his voice carrying that blend of intellectual excitement and something deeper that never failed to draw her in.

“It was not just innovative—it was revolutionary! The way you combined traditional timber supports with new iron bracings, accounting for both pressure distribution and cost efficiency…”

“Sebastian,” Charlotte interrupted gently, “you did not ride with all haste just to discuss mining techniques.”

“No.” He ran a hand through his already disordered hair, a gesture that spoke volumes about his state of mind. “I rode to prove a theory. To confirm what I already knew but needed to verify with absolute certainty.”

“And what theory was that?”

“That Blackthorn Hall needs exactly what you have given to the northern shaft—a perfect balance of tradition and innovation. That its future lies not in rigid adherence to old methods, but in finding new ways to support and strengthen what already exists.”

Charlotte’s heart performed another series of wild flurries that oddly felt like fireworks whirring toward the heavens. “That is a rather elaborate metaphor for mining operations.”

“I suppose it is.” Sebastian moved closer, close enough that propriety demanded she step back, though something stronger than propriety kept her rooted firmly in place. “Or is it a rather precise description of what you have brought to everything you have touched here? The way you have brightened Diana’s shadows, the fresh perspective you have brought to estate problems, or the life you have breathed into these old stones…”

“Sebastian…” Charlotte’s voice emerged as a whispered prayer.

“I rode for three days,” he continued, his own voice dropping lower, “visiting every major mining operation in the county. And do you know what I have discovered?”

“That my suggestions were impractical?”

“The complete opposite,” he said, his voice low. “I have found that every successful operation, every thriving mine, had one singularity in common—they all had managers willing to look beyond traditional methods. To see possibilities others had missed. To take calculated risks for greater rewards.”

He was close enough now that Charlotte could see the tiny flecks of darker grey in his eyes, like mineral deposits in otherwise uniform stone. “What are you saying?”

“That I have spent three days gathering evidence to support a conclusion I reached the moment you sketched out your ideas for the northern shaft.” Sebastian’s hand lifted, almost, but not quite touching her cheek. “That Blackthorn Hall needs you, Charlotte. That I—”

A sharp rap at the door made them spring apart like guilty children. Lady Blackthorn’s voice carried through the wood with cutting precision.

“Sebastian? The mine overseer has arrived with those urgent reports you requested.”

Sebastian’s expression shifted through several emotions too quickly to catalog, finally settling on something between determination and regret. “This conversation is not finished.”

“Is it not?” Charlotte asked softly, her mother’s warning about proper behavior warring with the hope she had managed to restrain up to now, blooming in her chest like wildflowers through castle stones.

“No.” Sebastian moved toward the door with obvious reluctance. “I have spent enough time gathering evidence, Charlotte. Now, I intend to present my conclusions properly—after I deal with these reports.”

As he left, Charlotte sank into the nearest chair, her mind whirling like fallen autumn leaves in a storm. What exactly was Sebastian talking about? What had he discovered?

And more importantly, what conclusions had he drawn that were important enough to make him risk his mother’s disapproval by speaking to her without a chaperone?

She waited for what felt like forever before a servant informed her that Sebastian sends his regrets and that he would speak with her soon.

Whatever he had to say, she suspected, would either secure her a place at Blackthorn Hall forever—or send her running back to Ravensmere with a thoroughly broken heart.