“We are simply too busy.” Charlotte’s mother shook her head two days later as she riffled through ink-blotted iterations of menus. “I need you here. Can’t you send a servant into town to check on the musicians?”
Charlotte sighed. “I want the job done well, Mother. The quality of the music will largely determine the guests’ enjoyment.” The deceit pulled at her conscience, but she wanted to see Alex again, and anything short of a clandestine meeting with a nearby eight-year-old as a quasi-chaperone would ruffle too many feathers. It was best her mother did not know. She would help her mother understand all the virtues of Alex Jenkins as soon as her mother wasn’t so preoccupied. Until then she’d think of ways to escape into his company.
Her mother clamped her eyes shut. “Christopher and his guests will be here soon, and we have no time to waste.” Charlotte winced at the thought of her brother’s arrival. “But,” her mother continued, opening her eyes again, “I suppose the music is important. Take Margaret and go by horseback. I cannot spare the carriage, and from what I hear, she’s no help whatsoever around the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Mother. I’ll go check with Cook on the status of the meat order before I go.” She curtsied and left the parlor before allowing a smile to erupt across her face. Triumphant, she strode to the servants’ quarters, talked to the cook as planned, and informed Margaret they would be leaving soon.
“I can’t ride very well, miss,” Margaret hedged.
“No matter; just do your best to keep up.”
“Yes, miss.”
As soon as she’d taken lunch, Charlotte went with Margaret toward the south woods. She took off in a canter with Penny and turned down the lane that led to the tree house. The sight of Alex’s worn-out horse tied to the tree caused her insides to thrill with anticipation.
“Hello, up there,” she called.
Two brown-haired heads, one older than the other, popped out of the glassless window.
“Go away,” Walter called. “No girls allowed.”
Alex stifled a grin and gave an apologetic tilt of his head. “Yes, no, um . . . girls. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I wasn’t planning to enter,” Charlotte said nonchalantly, though Alex’s smiling face drew her in. “I just wanted you to know I was headed into town, not to return for an hour or so.”
“Then, get going,” Walter said. “What do we care? We are busy.” Three worms sat perched on the banister of the tree house, and Walter returned to his intense concentration.
Alex, however, offered a purposeful wink. Charlotte hoped that meant he’d be free in the woods by the time she returned so they could have another conversation.
She turned toward the main road, grateful Margaret had caught up to her.
They went directly to the vicarage and collected Rebekah Laurence for their visit to town. “How are you, my dear friend? It’s been too long.” Charlotte smiled down at her friend’s growing belly. “I can finally tell you are expecting! How do you feel?”
“A little tired, but the excitement outweighs it.”
“How good to hear.” They discussed the coming baby a little longer, and then Charlotte turned the conversation a different direction. “Now for the musicians. Have you compiled a list of names?”
“Yes,” Rebekah said. “I asked a few members of our congregation for referrals.”
“Perfect.”
They spent the next half hour making rounds to the addresses Rebekah had compiled. Charlotte asked each musician to play a short sample from their repertoire and invited the best to join them in a week’s time at the ball. She tried to overlook the barren rooms and faded curtains of the meager dwellings, and the pots of thin soup that hung over their scanty fires. Each one of these people could use extra coin, and she was glad her mother had allowed for local musicians. Charlotte wished she could have invited every single one of them to come play.
Once finished, she and Margaret escorted Rebekah home and again mounted their horses. Margaret rubbed her back as her horse plodded along the main road that bordered the Roylance family’s property. When they were within sight of both the castle and the tree house, Charlotte slowed. “Go on ahead, Margaret,” she said. “I am longing to give Penny her head. It’s been too long since I’ve had the opportunity for a good ride. I’m in sight of the castle, and you have done your duty well; you can go back to the stables, if you wish.”
Margaret nodded gratefully.
Another pang of guilt hit Charlotte. She tried to justify her lies. There wasn’t a good alternative. Alex had listened to her more than anyone, and he too had been forthcoming about his past and the wounds of his heart. That kind of genuine relationship deserved to be fostered.
She felt Alex needed a friend just as much as she did. He was also terribly handsome and understanding and inviting, but those were secondary to his good nature. If her family couldn’t see why he was upstanding, that was their problem, and she’d go on meeting with him for as long as she must until they accepted him. They had both committed to taking risks, and the memory of his hand grasping hers and his eyes meeting her gaze firmed her resolve.
Veering to the left, Charlotte galloped until she pulled into a small hunting path a hundred yards away from the tree house. She slowed Penny to a stop just as Alex approached her on his mount.
“Good afternoon, Charlotte,” he said, tipping his hat.
Her heart skittered. Would she ever become accustomed to the feeling that accompanied even a few of his words and her name from his lips? “Good day to you, Alex.”
“I hope you know that even though the worms and the birds were intriguing, I much prefer speaking with you in the woods.” His roguish smile did her in.
“Even if those discussions sometimes involve pudding?”
“Absolutely.” His tone was smug and confident, reminding her of the self-assured boy she’d always admired.
“Well, since my maid Margaret went on ahead, and Walter is still in the tree house with his wildlife, there will be rules since our chaperone isn’t aware of his duty.”
Alex smiled and inclined his head. “I have always known you as a female of principle. I would expect nothing less. What are your terms?”
She smiled at his easy tone. It was one of the things she loved best about him. “First, we must always be in view of the castle.”
He nodded his agreement.
“Second”—she smiled—“we remain on our mounts. No taking a walk together.”
“Hmm.” He looked thoughtful, and she raised an eyebrow. “Agreed,” he responded once he caught her gaze.
“And third, I cannot be very long. My mother expects me any minute.” She took his measure, noting that although his linen was worn and his eyes were a little tired, she admired so much about his face, his being. But it wouldn’t do to dwell on that all day. “Now, what shall we speak about?”
Alex’s warm chuckle filled the space between them. “You always were direct.”
“One does not come casting pebbles into someone’s window without also wishing to be direct, Alex.”
He dipped his head, a little red painting his cheeks. “You are right.” His blue eyes caught hers, dancing in the afternoon light. “First, I wish to say thank you for our conversation at the stream. Your words were much needed.”
“Of course.” It felt good to be helpful to him. “I would love to hear whatever is on your mind.”
He tilted his head. “Then, I shall tell you. I have been thinking about your maid. Did you say her name was Margaret?”
“You wish to inquire after my maid?” Just a moment ago their conversation had seemed so promising, and she’d been nearly sure the color on his cheeks was due to her. Now he was asking about her servant?
“No. And yes.” He winced. What on earth could he mean?
“Why do you ask after her?” Something about all of this seemed suspicious, and she narrowed her eyes.
Alex blew out a breath. “I should have known you’d want the whole story.”
She nodded, crossing her arms in front of her. “I thought you knew I have always liked the details.”
He rubbed his hands on the withers of his horse as their mounts sauntered a bit further down the small lane. “I’ve been thinking about how you said she recently came from working in the mine. Do you know which mine?”
“Alnwick, but before you worked there, I think.”
“And she just left the mines and applied at Otterburn?”
“No,” Charlotte replied, still confused as to what he was getting at. “She had an injury, though I don’t know exactly what happened. I came upon her on the side of the road when I was riding, and she couldn’t remember much.”
“Hmm. I kept feeling like I needed to ask you more about her, and now I think I know why.”
“I have no idea what you mean, Alex,” she said, trying not to sound too exasperated at his enigmatic words.
He sighed. “I employ a valet, or a man-of-all-work, as my only servant.”
This was news to Charlotte. Alex had told her he oversaw the mine, but she hadn’t known he lived such a lean lifestyle. His faded blue jacket should have given her some hint, but all she’d noticed was how handsome he looked in it. How many other basic particulars about him did she not have answers to?
“My man has a sweetheart. Not yet engaged but courting, I suppose you could say.”
“I am happy for him,” Charlotte said, confusion wheedling into her voice.
Alex gave her a sympathetic smile. “A few weeks ago this young woman went missing. She worked at the Alnwick Mine. Moxham has been worried about her, said her name was Mags. Now that I oversee the Alnwick Mine, he and I have been trying to sort out what happened, but no one has admitted to anything. When you said your servant had been working in the mines just a few weeks before and then today mentioned her name—”
“Margaret,” Charlotte whispered, Alex’s meaning illuminated like a newly struck match. “Margaret.” Words flew from her mouth without volition. “When I found her, she’d sustained a head wound and forgotten most of her recent past, though some memories have slowly started to come back to her.”
Her conversation with her maid a few days ago flashed into Charlotte’s mind. “Can I ask you one thing?”
“Certainly.” Alex’s clear eyes shone with interest and promise.
“Does this man—this Mr. Moxham—does he, by chance, have a chipped tooth?”
Alex’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes widened. “How did you—”
“A few days ago, after leaving the dressmaker’s, Margaret told me she remembered something. I’d asked her before if she was married or close to anyone, but finally she recalled a man with a chipped tooth.”
“Lands,” Alex said softly. “It must be her.”
Charlotte’s hands trembled as she clutched the leather reins. Penny pawed the ground, as though she sensed the importance of the revelation too. Charlotte turned around when the small lane narrowed, and Alex followed, heading in the direction of the main road.
“What is to be done?” Alex whispered.
They discussed ideas for the next few minutes, Charlotte wishing to be extra careful about how to handle the introductions, unsure of what Margaret would remember and not wanting to alarm her.
“What I still don’t know,” Charlotte said, “is what happened to her to begin with.”
“I want to understand the same thing.” Alex exhaled. “Now more than ever I wonder what else my miners have tried to hide. I intend to continue investigating. I’ve been searching, and everyone made it sound as though she just disappeared. There are often accidents that go unreported, and no one takes fault.”
Charlotte swallowed. “I see.” She studied the tight pull of his eyes as he glanced across the woods. “Thank you for sharing this with me. I can accept hard information like this, Alex, despite being a lady.”
Alex’s thoughts seemed far away. “I know.” He was silent for a few more breaths. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and almost defeated. “I’m just afraid that if you knew where I’ve been, what has happened in the past, you couldn’t bear to look at me again. I’ve made my way to a respectable position with decent wages and a good name and standing, but before—”
“How can you say such things? I’d rather have you tell me what you’ve been through—including the difficult experiences you’ve had—than for you to carry the burden of your past alone. I understand much of it must have been horrible—so . . . base and revolting, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. Would you hold my past against me because I’ve let my brother reign over me?” She sought understanding and acceptance in his eyes, and suddenly time seemed to stand still. What she was about to say mattered; she needed to say it. “I am not proud of who I have become, but I am trying to regain some of my former spirit and independence, thanks, in part, to your words.” She heaved a sigh. “I know I can trust you, Alex.”
At the mention of trust he turned his face toward her, and there was a new bit of light and acceptance in his countenance.
Charlotte fingered her horse’s mane. “Thank you for letting me say so much. I’ve always appreciated that about you. You don’t silence me when my mouth gains a mind of its own. I don’t feel like you judge my every word or wish to muzzle me.”
He was so gloriously different from her brother in that regard.
He searched her face, seeming to take in every part of her and finding it all worthwhile. He smiled softly. How she longed for him to whisk her into his arms, but they were on horses, and good heavens, they’d been together only a handful of times.
Since an embrace wasn’t an option, at least her words could convey her depth of feeling. She sucked in a breath. “With all these words, I hope I’ve made it obvious how much I am trying to understand you.” She eyed the path before saying the next part quietly. “And how much I hope to continue to do so in the future.”
Her breath felt short as Alex studied his pommel. She was being open and bold, and when his shoulders seemed to lift, her heart soared. Finally he drew his eyes up to meet hers. “Charlotte, even when you are verbose, I dearly love listening to all your words, because they come from you.” He leaned forward in his saddle, a slow grin stealing across his face. “Even now, don’t stop. Despite our lovely conversations, I realize I don’t even know if your favorite color is still green. Do you still prefer eggs for breakfast? Do you like attending church, or do you find the sermons odious? Would you choose reading or company? What accomplishments have you gained in the last ten years that I don’t know about? Do you still run through the forest with reckless abandon? I could listen to you answer all this, and still I wouldn’t know all I wish to.”
Heat rose to her cheeks, and the tilt of his head indicated his pleasure at her blush. It was the sincerest speech anyone had ever directed to her. Someone cared deeply about who she was, liked her as she was, and not for the money associated with her.
“In fact, Charlotte”—his tone grew quieter and more serious—“if it is not too bold, I’d like to continue listening . . .” He stared into her eyes and seemed to take courage from what he found there. “For as long as you’ll have me.” His expression was soft and tender, and his words warmed her from her feet to the nape of her neck. “I don’t want to go away. I want this to work.”
He steered his horse a little closer to her, until the knee of his trousers brushed against the folds of her skirt. He leaned over the side of his saddle and turned near her, so close she could see the truth of his words and the honesty of his admission in all the lines of his handsome face. She wanted to trace those lines, stare at that defined jaw, and memorize that welcoming smile for the rest of the afternoon.
With one hand he reached for her, but she pulled back, eyeing him. “Do you have any sort of creature on your person? Like a worm?”
“I promise I do not.” He waved his open palm toward her. With a nod, she relinquished the reins and accepted his gesture, happiness starting in her fingertips and racing to her heart as their hands found their perfect fit in one another’s. “There’s still so much to learn, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone, not in my whole life. I find myself distracted when I’m at the mine, wishing I could be with you instead of at the mine, talking with you and learning all I’ve missed these many years.”
She felt the same way and returned his sentiment with a little squeeze of her hand.
The moment was perfect. The sun was just warm enough, the birds sang in the trees, and a light wind blew through the leaves of the tall elms. She sighed, letting all the goodness wash over her. “Very well, then. I do still like green. And blue. Now I prefer potatoes for breakfast.” It was the easy, safe way to turn the conversation, but as she watched his face, she swallowed, feeling sure enough to venture words that were more important, more vulnerable than ever before. “And . . . as preferences go, you have been my constant favorite, whether I was twelve or twenty. I always hoped, even when I didn’t know what had become of you, that someday you would return and still act kindly toward me. That we could be the friends we once were.”
“And what if I wish we could be more?” The words seemed to burst from him, and his eyebrows rose at his own admission. His head tilted in eager anticipation, but then his brow clouded. “Continuing down this path would not be without difficulties. We would enrage your brother, I am sure.” Heaviness dripped from his sigh.
Charlotte held more tightly to his hand. “But he must see in time how right this is. There must be a way to soften the animosity. If my mother, and Christopher when he comes, learn how you saved Walter from drowning, perhaps then they will begin to glimpse your goodness. I think George likes you, despite the pressure he feels from Christopher, and I hope Joseph won’t always be persuaded to follow his eldest brother.” She sighed. “Meeting like this is not a viable long-term solution though.” With one hand she gestured at the woods around her. “The deception has been tearing at me, and I dread that sooner or later, we will be found out.”
“And yet I can’t help thinking,” Alex said, his eyes wide with a spark of hope, “that we were meant to find one another again. There have been too many times when we’ve happened to cross paths.”
She shook her head. “More like there were too many times when I happened to stumble upon you and then all manner of words tumbled out of my mouth.” She thought of the dressmaker’s, the zoo, the lake, and the greengrocer.
He smiled good-naturedly. The sensation of him smiling at her because he accepted her felt amazing. He caressed her hand with his thumb. “It’s like someone is watching out for us, wouldn’t you say?”
“I can’t be certain,” she said. “I’ve never been one to believe in a higher power.”
“Truly?” He studied her. “So I take it the answer to my question about church is that you don’t prefer it.”
She glanced to the side and gave a halfhearted chuckle. “You are correct. Christopher has never attended frequently, and neither have I. When I have, it has always felt like the preacher was lecturing, not actually connecting with God. I do admit that the sermons of your friend Mr. Laurence are better than most, and I get to see Rebekah when there. But still.” She blew an errant bit of stray hair from her eyes, “If God exists, He doesn’t care about me.”
“Oh, Charlotte. I know how it feels to seem forgotten or alone, but I can tell you that while God doesn’t take every stumbling block out of our paths, He often provides a way we don’t see that will bring happiness. But we must first trust Him.” Alex’s eyes filled with light as he stared at her.
His words were beautiful, and the warmth of his hand in hers made Charlotte want to believe him. But as Penny shook her mane, Charlotte found she still questioned the truth of them. “How can you be so sure?” she asked.
“I was saved in the mines. I almost died there. I was with Moxham and his brother, and I couldn’t save them both. My failure tore at me for years. Then I found a way to be an overseer, then the head of acquisitions, and now, as you know, I manage the Alnwick Mine. Every good thing proves to me there is a God. I had fallen so low on account of my family’s circumstance that there’s no way I could be where I am today without God’s help.”
This insight into who Alex was made her care about him even more. Helped her love him even more. She did love him. She sighed. He was sharing his past, his beliefs, little bits of his soul, and she felt honored to be a part of it.
“I . . . like that,” she managed. Could she say the same of her trials and successes? “I’ve never looked at all the good in my life that way. I am truly blessed, I realize. I have so much to be grateful for, even if I feel like Christopher and my parents don’t really value or care about me.”
Pain creased Alex’s brow. “It makes my blood boil to think how poorly your brother treats you, how much he stifles you.” His free hand balled into a fist. “He doesn’t realize the good you do, how intelligent you are, what you are capable of.” His face pulled into a scowl. Charlotte pulled her hand away from his and raised her fingers to smooth the wrinkles from his brow. At her touch, he stilled and smiled. She brushed her fingers against his smooth-shaven jaw, trying to memorize its contours.
“Charlotte, there is something you must know.” He heaved a breath. “I intend to spend every moment we have together from here forward helping you realize how wonderful you are, how much God loves you, and . . .” He turned his head toward her and whispered, “how much I love you.” He took her hand and kissed it.
Heat soared from her hand to her neck. She touched her warm throat with her free hand. “Oh my. I didn’t expect our ride to be so eventful.” She laughed through her shy smile. She hadn’t expected him to say he loved her. She swallowed. “I . . . love you too.”
Silence crackled between them, and the look in his eyes almost overcame her.
He caressed her hand with this thumb, and she sighed. “Now that we understand each other, we just need a way to convince my family.”
“Exactly,” he said, squeezing her hand once more before he took up his reins. “We ought to begin soon. I can speak with your brother when he returns. Somehow I will convince him to allow me to court you. I’m nothing if not persistent. When he sees I won’t go away, when I prove my worth . . .”
Then he leaned next to her, so close that they touched again, and she could smell his minty scent and feel his breath on her cheek. With one gentle movement, he tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear and whispered, “I want you to know I won’t ever give up.”
Charlotte had never felt so full of hope. She wanted to alight from her horse and run and scream, declaring to every silent tree in that forest that Alexander Jenkins wanted her, and she wanted him back. But the feeling of his lips on her skin was so new, so unexpected, and yet so right that she froze in her spot and tried to soak it in. He pulled back a fraction, enough to catch her eye, and she glanced up at him from under her lashes.
He reached over and brushed another stray lock under her bonnet, and his hand lingered on her cheek. “It is a mighty good thing you established rules,” he teased, “for I dearly long for both of us to dismount our horses so I might kiss you properly.”
Charlotte laughed and shook her head. “I am a woman of principle.”
Alex nodded. “That’s why I like you.”
Charlotte smiled at him, and then her eyes caught hold of something over his shoulder. The hill crested a little, and she noticed a solitary rider galloping into view on the main road.
Charlotte reined in Penny instinctively. They’d strayed far from the road but not far enough to be completely hidden if the rider was aware of the landscape at all. The black stallion with a white spot above its front left hoof could only mean one thing. Christopher was back.
Alex seemed to sense danger and guided his horse farther into the woods. “Your brother,” he breathed.
“Perhaps he didn’t see you. You must leave now. If he were to find us here, it might ruin any chances of reconciliation.”
Alex nodded and pulled his reins tight just as Charlotte heard hoofbeats pounding toward them.
“Charlotte?” Christopher’s voice bellowed over the trees. His dark horse shot into the small alcove. “Charlotte!” He pulled back the reins and stopped his horse in the woods, craning his neck to find her. “Did I just see you alone with a gentleman?”
Every part of her body tensed, her teeth clenching hard enough to send a frisson of pain up the sides of her temples.
“Answer me, Charlotte,” he yelled.
“I am here,” she responded. She urged Penny forward enough that he could see her horse. “And yes, I was with someone. We had but a brief conversation, and I am returning home.”
He squared his mount and looked directly at her. “If my eyes haven’t deceived me, he looked suspiciously like Jenkins.”
She swallowed. So he had seen them. Alex emerged from the dark shadows of the wood. He hadn’t left? Charlotte had been so preoccupied with listening to her brother draw nearer that she must have missed that Alex had remained. Why hadn’t he fled?
“You are right,” Alex said, sitting tall. “Your sister is an intelligent, capable, respectable woman, and we were merely having a conversation. I was just about to be on my way.”
“Is that right?” Christopher’s eyes glinted like onyx.
“Yes.” Alex straightened his back and lifted his chin, his eyes drawn tight.
Charlotte’s anger threatened to explode out of her. She held Penny’s reins tight, feeling more emboldened toward her brother than she could ever remember. “Christopher, how long will you insist on hating your once best friend? Perhaps you should go ask Walter who saved him from drowning a few weeks ago? It was Alex. He’s not the horrible person you think he is.”
“Don’t you dare try to insert yourself,” Christopher yelled.
Alex’s jaw flexed. “Stop talking to her that way, Chris. It’s high time you started to care about her. You ought to know how much I do care about her. If you insist on hating me, know that I won’t stop my efforts until I am accepted by at least the decent part of your family.”
Charlotte’s heart took strength from his speech. He had said what she’d wanted to and more. She urged Penny’s head between the two of them. “You can’t stop me from trying to see him either.” She inhaled, screwing up her courage. “Alex is a good man, Christopher. Truly. I demand you give him a chance.”
“Alex?” Christopher glared at Charlotte. “Did you just use his Christian name? You hold your tongue. I forbade you weeks ago to ever speak of him, let alone to him.” He glared at her and then at Alex and back again. “This meeting was intentional, wasn’t it? How many times have you disobeyed my orders? How often have you seen him?”
Charlotte swallowed, keeping silent as she gazed toward the castle, not daring to look at her brother. She knew she could be stronger if she didn’t look at him, and she needed every bit of courage she had. Her argument for Alex wasn’t supposed to include their clandestine meetings. That would only hurt their case.
“Answer me, Charlotte,” Christopher demanded.
She clenched her teeth. “I have seen him by happenstance a few times. I—” She looked to Alex for strength. His steady eyes gave her what she needed. “I believe it was meant to be.”
She thought back on their conversation today. She had never really believed in God’s hand in her life. But as the breeze blew through the trees, it seemed to bring with it the invisible truth. She was sure now that all the times they’d happened upon each other must mean something. Must be for something.
“Don’t speak of such nonsensical notions. Things are never meant to be, Charlotte. We control our destiny. And, in this case, it’s high time I control yours.” Her brother’s every syllable demanded exact obedience.
But Charlotte would break free; she would not cower to him.
Christopher’s lips curled into a nasty smile. “Lord Ainscough will be here by tomorrow, and I expect you to be ready for his company. He will not leave without issuing a proposal, I am sure. A proposal, of course, which you will accept.”
From the corner of her eye Charlotte saw Alex’s taut form grow uneasy, his hands balled into fists, his shoulders raised and stiff. Charlotte still couldn’t meet Christopher’s gaze—she couldn’t behold the full measure of his wrath.
Christopher turned on Alex. “Don’t let her be so foolish as to come find you. Don’t let her meet up with you, and don’t you dare come anywhere near us again. If I ever find you two together—and believe me, I’ll be watching—it will be pistols at dawn.” He ran a hand over the satchel on the back of his horse. Charlotte knew her brother always carried a gun on him. She winced as he rose a little higher in his saddle. Had he really just threatened such a thing?
“You know I’d win in a duel, and if you really do care about my sister, think of how she’d feel when you lost. Think of the grief that would cause her. Don’t let it happen, Jenkins. Best to leave forever.”
How could her brother speak that way? Threaten such an outcome? No one dueled anymore, and to threaten it at all made Christopher seem completely mad.
Alex’s face turned to stone. It reminded her of something familiar, and then it came to her: the day her father had cast him out of these very woods all those years ago. Alex’s eyes narrowed, but his posture remained tall. He turned his head toward Christopher. “I would never presume to control your sister as you attempted today. You’ll see; she will win out in the end.” He shot a purposeful look toward Charlotte, and the smallest bit of hope and encouragement buoyed her anguished soul. But she feared it wouldn’t last. He lifted his hat a fraction and said, “I will bid you good day, like a civilized gentleman.”
“Go, Charlotte.” Christopher gestured up the road. “I will not leave until I know you are on your way.”
This time she was trapped. She couldn’t wait in the shadows to speak with Alex like she’d done nine years ago. Her eyes locked with Alex, and she noted the unmitigated anger in his eyes. Then, suddenly, the storm on his brow smoothed a degree, and his look seemed to melt into resolve, as though he were saying he would not give up, that he’d find a way to come back. She noticed then his weary horse pawing the ground. She offered one taut, sad smile and tried to appear brave, to leave his last glance at her as a memory that she was strong and hopeful.
How had it come to this? Only moments before their lives held so much promise, so much beauty.
Without looking at her brother, she urged Penny up the path, her shoulders drooping, her brave countenance shattering. She hated that she believed Christopher’s words. If anything happened to Alex, she would always blame herself. She knew what Christopher was and what he might do, and she should not subject Alex to any kind of confrontation with him.
When Penny had taken Charlotte close to the castle, Christopher’s horse pulled even with hers and he cleared his throat. “As long as you pretend this never happened, I won’t tell mother. You know she can’t handle much more than she is already responsible for. Tonight—and every moment in the next week—must be perfect. I won’t have my idiotic sister ruining the plans I’ve made for us both.”
Tears threatened to shatter the dam of emotion she’d built against every one of his hateful words, but with determination, she didn’t give in to her tears.
How could he speak as though he hadn’t just ruined her plans, her life? How long would he go on like this? Too many times she’d been subject to his demands. But she was no longer his pawn. She would not be used as a rung in his ladder to add a title and fame to the family.
Before she could say anything, however, Christopher raised his voice. “And don’t make any plans to go anywhere without a chaperone or one of your brothers. From now on I will personally make sure you are doing and going only where you ought.”
They rode silently all the way into the stables, and once they dismounted, he followed on her heels into the main vestibule. Did he really wish to confine her to the castle grounds like it was a prison until after the ball? As though in silent answer, he hovered near her and turned into the parlor only after he made sure she ascended the stairs. As soon as she entered her room, she collapsed onto the bed.
The dam broke and her resolve shattered and, with it, her future too.