Page 44 of Not his Marchioness (Daughters of the Ton #2)

Charlotte stood next to the posting inn, her portmanteau beside her. The letter from Lady Woodhaven sat in her pocket.

She would arrive in Brighton soon. However, she hadn’t realized that the coach she had hired would pick up someone else.

Stopping at a posting house in the middle of the night had not been in her plans. Yet, here she stood.

All alone.

Heartbroken.

And scared.

Sometimes, the na?ve young girl she had been before her marriage still haunted her.

She picked up her portmanteau, cursing herself for packing so many clothes, and attempted to drag it inside to wait until the scheduled time to leave again, when she heard him call out to her.

“Charlotte.”

She turned around.

What was Rhys doing here? Had he come from London?

She looked up and saw the coachman glancing at her guiltily. He turned out the palm of his hand and shrugged, as if to say that he could not help it.

Of course, he could not. He answered to Rhys, after all.

“I do not wish to speak to you,” she muttered.

“I know,” Rhys said. “Yet here I am, and you shall listen even if you do not want to speak.”

“I will do no such thing. I can simply remove myself from your presence.” She pointed at the posting-house. “I could just—”

“You could,” he interrupted. “But I have a feeling, given that expression on your face, that you are quite uncomfortable. And that it would be much more convenient if you simply listened to me. Then, we could clear this misunderstanding and go home.”

“Go home?” He had lost his mind. “I am not going anywhere with you,” she hissed. “You lied to me.”

“I know, but please, let me talk to you. Explain.”

The bravado he’d displayed was suddenly gone.

She dropped her portmanteau and placed her hands on her hips. “There is nothing you could say to me that could make me change my mind about where I am going or what I am doing.”

“Good,” he said. “In that case, you should have no problem listening to me, since your mind is already made up. All it will cost you is a few minutes of your time.”

She looked around and spotted a gazebo just across the road.

“Let us talk there,” she said and stormed over.

Then, she stopped.

“Please bring my portmanteau,” she called.

If he was going to make her listen to him, she was going to make him carry her luggage.

He followed her and set the portmanteau down once he stopped.

“Did you bring the entire library?” he asked.

“Only some of my most inspiring books.”

“Charlotte, I’m sorry for how things unfolded. I should have explained. I should have taken you into my confidence.”

“Take me into your confidence? What in the world does that mean? You told me that you had not been to the rookeries in a long time, not since we met. And then I find you not only lying to me.”

He nodded. “Yes. It is true.” He sat down in front of her.

“I did lie about where I was going. But it was not for the reasons you think. You see, I received a letter the day before our Christmas celebration. The letter claimed that one of the women I used to keep company with had a gravely ill child and that she had no one else to turn to. The letter implied that the child was mine.”

“Is it your child?”

“No. I have no children. In fact, there is no child. The letter was written in such a way as to imply it, but did not claim it outright. In any case, the letter pleaded with me to help her. I felt compelled to at least investigate. I arranged for a time to meet with her.”

“Tonight,” she said.

“Yes. I wanted to see if it was true—if there was a child, and whose child it was, and how ill they were. I considered telling you, but I thought that if I arrived and found it was all a lie, I would have upset you for nothing.”

She nodded. Somehow, she believed him. She was not quite sure why or how, but she did. He made sense. And he’d received a mysterious letter, just as she did.

“And when you got there, you found out that the letter was full of lies?”

“I did. The woman was there, and I spoke to her. But she assured me that she had no child and that she was quite well. In fact, she had recently bought the establishment I used to frequent. I showed her the letter, and she confirmed it was not written in her hand. Although she told me that she had recently run afoul of a certain gentleman we both know.”

“Emery.” Her blood ran cold.

“The very same. I suppose he caused quite a scene in her establishment, which she did not like, and she kicked him out, never to return. I believe he used her name to draw me there.” Rhys looked at her.

“Charlotte, why did you decide to follow me tonight of all nights? I assume you do not make a habit of it.”

“No,” she said. “Because at the beginning, I did not care enough what you did or did not do, so long as you did not ruin our reputations. And since we have had our conversation, I trusted you enough not to.”

He nodded. “So what was different tonight?”

She took a deep breath as a puzzle piece fell into place. “I, too, received a letter. From an anonymous person. I assume it was Emery. The letter told me that everything Emery told me about you was true.”

Charlotte paused, realizing that he did not know what she was speaking of.

“At the most recent ball, Emery tried to plant doubts in my head, saying that he had seen you in the rookeries many times recently. But he is a hateful man, and thus I did not believe him. However, when the letter arrived, telling me that I could see for myself, doubt crept in. You had been acting so distantly over the Christmas period, and I thought perhaps you were regretful of our decision to remain together.”

“No, Charlotte. I could never regret vowing to be with you. Charlotte, I—” Rhys paused, and she knew that he had almost said I love you.

She longed to hear it, longed to hear him confirm his feelings for her. But at the same time, she was almost grateful he had not said it now, because this was not the time.

So she gave a nod. “I decided that I would do as the letter suggested—see for myself. I thought if I followed you, and you and Gideon only went to his father’s house as you’d said, then I would know that I could trust you.

But if you went to St. Giles, then I would have the answers as well.

So I put on my riding cloak and followed you.

And you went where I hoped you would not go. ”

Rhys nodded. “And you saw me.”

“Yes…”

“I cannot blame you for your actions. Perhaps I would have done the same thing, had I been in your shoes. In a way, I did. I did not tell you because I wanted to see for myself first,” he sighed.

“But you must believe me. I was lured there by a lie, just as you were. Do you still have the letter? I thought perhaps we could compare the hands.”

He pulled out his letter and handed it to her. She took it, their fingers touching for a split second before she yanked her hand away.

“I burned it,” she admitted as she unfolded his. Then, with a sigh, she nodded. “It is in the same hand. Does he really hate us so much?”

“It is not so much about hate,” he said.

“It is more than that. He could not get what he wanted, which was you. Therefore, he decided to ruin our marriage. If he could not have you, then I could not either. And if you would not consent to being his wife, then he would make certain you were miserable.”

Silence fell between them.

“I should have told you the truth. As soon as I received that letter, I should have told you.”

“I understand why you did not. Why, I cannot tell you how I would have reacted. Hearing such news can be most upsetting.” She paused. “I must ask for your forgiveness, too. For not coming to you. For not waiting for you to return to listen to your explanation.”

He nodded. “Although we care for one another as though we had known one another for years, we have only been in each other’s lives for a few months.

I know which books you like to read, and I know how you take your tea, and what time you go to bed.

But still, you do not know how I would react to certain situations.

“There is much we have yet to learn about one another. And I want that. I want to learn about you. I want to know every part of you. I want us to grow so close that nothing can ever come between us again, to trust each other blindly.”

“I want that too,” she murmured. “I cannot tell you how much. It hurts me that a fool like Lord Emery could drive a wedge between us.”

“It was not just him,” he said. “Lizzie suspects one of the men at her establishment. I sent word to the establishment in St. Giles when I would be arriving. Someone must have intercepted that message and told Emery, so he could trick you into going there at the same time.”

She nodded. “Such a weasel he is. But he will not win. I do not want him to succeed in doing what he set out to do.”

“And he will not,” he assured, stepping closer. He took her hand, and a shiver went through her. “When I returned home and found you gone, a sense of solitude gripped me—the same feeling I had when I lost my parents and my brother. But I knew I had to fight through it.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I knew I had to find you and explain. I admit I hesitated on the way here.

I almost turned back and accepted defeat.

But I learned that sometimes pain is the price we must pay for love.

If it fails or leaves us, it can leave us with a darkness within.

But when it succeeds, when we find love, it can drive out any darkness.

“I did not understand that before. I ran away all these months. I know that I have vexed you, but it was all because I could not allow myself to love again—though my heart had other ideas. It has already loved you for a long while.”

There it was. He had said it now. He loved her.

She looked up at him. “My heart has been quite treacherous as well. It has insisted on beating for you from the beginning. In fact, there were times when my body would refuse to obey me. It was as if it sought you out, wished to be near you, even though my head fought against it.”

He chuckled. “I have felt much the same. You and I are more alike than we realize.”

“That is true,” she agreed. “No words can capture it. I do not know what to say. I feel dreadful for running away and not speaking to you, but I am grateful that you came after me and found me.” Her voice lowered. “The truth is, I was petrified.”

“One never would have known,” he said. “You looked quite defiant when I arrived. Uncomfortable but defiant.”

“Well, I am glad for it. I felt anything but. Tell me, when you found me just now, why did you speak to me in the way you did when we first met? With such bravado and wit.”

“Because I wanted to remind you of how things were when we first found one another. You quite enjoyed our conversations, even if they were at times… combative.”

“I did.” She nodded. “You have always challenged me. And while it put me in high dudgeon at times, I did enjoy that we could challenge one another, and I want to keep doing that—perhaps less combatively. But I love that you make me question myself, that you make me think. So often in my life, I have simply acted without thinking first—like tonight. But I feel with you, I grow more and more into the person I wish to be.”

“I feel the same way. You have made me better. You have made me face parts of myself that I wanted to shut away forever. But you would not let me. Thanks to you, I know I can be the sort of person—the sort of man—that my parents would have been proud of. Charlotte, I love you, and I never want to lose you. Will you come home with me? Will you be my wife in every sense of the word, from now until the end of our days?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I will. I love you, too.”

Rhys smiled and leaned forward, and they kissed—for the very first time without secrets or deceit between them. And as they parted and made their way back to the carriage, Charlotte knew that this was a new beginning for the two of them.

From now on, nothing would come between them.