Chapter Twenty

One week later the ceremony was attended by Lord Armbruster, Lord Chadley, and Lady Sarah Crawford. Jacob insisted that Charlotte purchase a gown of her own. She suspected that he didn’t want to wed her while she was wearing his dead wife’s clothing.

She chose a simple gown of light blue, something serviceable that she would be able to wear again.

Sarah had helped her pick it out.

The ceremony was short. Charlotte thought it only took a few minutes, but Sarah insisted it had been a little longer than that. Charlotte had tried not to look at Jacob, afraid of what she would see. Regret? Sadness?

She’d finally agreed to marry him because she felt it was her only choice. In the end, she knew that she couldn’t turn her back on the women of London who were in danger perhaps because of Edmund.

But before she could save others, she needed to secure her own safety, and marrying Jacob was the only way to do that. Now that she was out of the clutches of her aunt, the baroness could spout all kinds of lies about Charlotte, but her husband’s name and title would protect her.

Charlotte was now the Countess of Ashland.

Mrs. Smith held a small feast afterward with just the five of them in attendance. Chadley, Armbruster, and Sarah tried to make it festive. There were a few toasts and some strained smiles. It was the first time she’d met Armbruster, and she found him engaging and fun. He and Jacob told tales of when they were at Eton together and had everyone laughing. She could see they had a close friendship forged over many years. It was hinted by Mrs. Smith that Armbruster was the one who had saved Jacob from his grief after Cora’s death.

Eventually they left, and Charlotte faced her husband.

Her husband.

She twisted the plain gold band around her finger, realized what she was doing, and dropped her hands to her sides. They stared at each other, an awkward silence between them.

“So,” she said, just to fill the silence. She really had no idea what to say after that. They’d not talked at all about what would happen after the ceremony.

“I know this wasn’t your ideal wedding,” Jacob said. “But I think it was for the best.”

“Knowing that I don’t have to fear my aunt anymore makes it worth it.”

“At least I can give you that. You are very beautiful in your new gown,” he said.

“Thank you.” She pulled on the ends of her hair. It was getting longer, but only by increments. It would take years for her hair to be the length it was before. Mrs. Smith had parted it to the side and swept it behind her ears. A fringe of it had fallen across her forehead, giving her a softer look. Instead of a veil she had worn a ring of white and soft pink flowers on her head.

She glanced outside, surprised to see it was still daylight. It seemed she had lived a hundred days since she had awoken this morning. No, her wedding day had not been what she had envisioned since she was a little girl—never had she thought she would have to marry in order to save herself—but it had still been wonderful.

“Charlotte.” He stepped closer and took her hands in his, just as he’d done when they’d said their vows. “I just want you to know that I do care deeply for you and I do not mind if we spent the rest of our days together.”

“Thank you.” An awkward silence enveloped them. “I think I’ll go rest now,” she said. “The day has worn me out.”

“Of course.”

Did he look disappointed? Had he made other plans? She hesitated, thinking she was mistaken that he would want some time to himself. “Unless you have other plans,” she said.

“I thought that we could go to the Crystal Palace and maybe get some ices while we were there. Have you been before?”

“Oh.” She was surprised at his thoughtfulness—that he would want to make this day special. “No. I’ve never been. That sounds like fun.”

“If you’re too tired we can plan it for another day.”

“No. I just didn’t think that you might have made plans for us. I’m not all that tired anymore.” And suddenly she wasn’t. The prospect of doing something ordinary appealed to her. No longer did she have to worry that someone from church might see her and report back to her aunt.

She could be a normal person, enjoying a nice day with her husband.

Her husband.

The thought sent butterflies flitting through her stomach.

She had a husband.

She was a wife.

She was a countess.

That was a thought that she couldn’t wrap her mind around just yet. She didn’t want to become accustomed to that because someday soon she would be none of those things again.

And that was good.

That was right.

That was what she wanted and as it should be.

This was just temporary.

But for now, she would enjoy the day, eat ices, and explore the exhibition hall with her husband.

…

If Jacob was going to be completely honest with himself, he would admit that he liked the feel of Charlotte’s hand on his arm as they strolled through the Crystal Palace.

Charlotte had heard much about the Crystal Palace but had never seen it. Such an extravagance would have been deemed sinful by her aunt. When Charlotte first glimpsed the massive glass structure it took her breath away.

“What do you think?” Jacob asked as they stopped on the street to stare up at it.

“Never have I ever imagined such a thing in my life. I can see why they refer to it as crystal.” The sun bounced off the massive glass walls, making it appear as if it were glittering in the sun like a million diamonds.

A pool of water guarded the entrance with delightful dancing water. Jacob was interested to learn how they made the water dance like that, but those questions were for another day. Today was for his new wife.

Wife.

Not Cora, but Charlotte.

He’d never meant to marry again, but here he was with a new wife under strange circumstances. He didn’t feel as guilty as he thought he would. He thought maybe that Cora would understand. She used to say that he was a great advocate for those who needed it, and if anyone needed an advocate, it was Charlotte.

Jacob and Charlotte stepped into the queue while Charlotte looked around in wide-eyed, childish wonder. “This is fabulous,” she said.

Jacob laughed and squeezed her hand, and for a small moment he was happy. Happier than he’d been since Cora’s death. Their marriage might be a farce—a temporary farce at that—but for right now he would enjoy it for what it was. A glorious day, with a beautiful, witty woman.

“They say there are ten miles of exhibits,” Jacob said as he handed money over for their entrance fee.

They walked every bit of the ten miles. Jacob’s head was stuffed full of new information about dinosaurs, fire engines, and flying apparatuses. But the real show was watching Charlotte take it all in, her mouth gaping at the enormous dinosaur or the Egyptian tombs.

His life had not been filled with adventure or excitement, but he had to remember that Charlotte had lived in the country her whole life until she’d been taken to her aunt, where she’d lived in seclusion, her only outings to church and back.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much,” Jacob said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this much. Oh, Jacob, this was such a wonderful day.” She hugged his arm and looked up at the soaring glass ceiling to glimpse the blue sky and puffy white clouds above, and Jacob’s heart turned over and a funny feeling overtook him.

Love? Surely not.

She quickly let go of his arm and fluffed the skirts of her new gown, color tinging her cheekbones. She was filling out, her bones not nearly as prominent, her cheeks fuller, her eyes not as sunken. And just as he thought, she was turning into a real beauty. He noticed men glancing at her as they walked the exhibits, and he wanted to draw her closer, to proclaim to everyone that she was his.

His wife.

He really was getting barmy.

Tomorrow he would insist that she purchase more gowns. Now that she was in one of her choosing he could see that Cora’s gowns did not suit Charlotte at all. Besides, she needed something of her own.

He cleared his throat. “How about an ice?”

“That sounds wonderful.” The awkwardness had returned.

“This truly is one of the greatest wonders of the world,” Charlotte said as they ate their ices inside the main part of the building with the glass ceiling soaring above them.

“And the sad thing is that it’s only a temporary exhibit. It has to come down next year,” he said.

“No.” Charlotte set her spoon down and stared at him in disbelief. “But why? It’s such a wonderful opportunity to educate people on all sorts of things.”

“I hear they are going to try to relocate it.”

She made a sound of distress as she dug into her ice. She had lemon. He had orange.

“What was your favorite display?” she asked between bites.

“I liked the Roman exhibit and the Egyptian. What was yours?”

“Can I count the building as an exhibit?”

Jacob laughed, and that warmth grew inside of him. They were having a normal conversation, eating ices, sitting under the clouds at the Crystal Palace, and it all seemed right. “You can count the building as an exhibit. You seem to be impressed by it.”

“Oh, I am.”

When they left the exhibition, Charlotte looked back longingly. “I don’t want to leave. I could go through it all again.”

“Maybe we can return on another day,” he said, hesitant to make plans, although he didn’t know why. They were married. They should be able to make short-term plans, at least.

It was getting dark when they exited, the sky turning a light purple. Just that morning they had been married. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

They’d never discussed their wedding night, and Jacob found himself anxious to know what she expected. He knew he wanted a marriage in full, with a healthy, active life in the bedroom. Just thinking about it made his trousers tight, but it had been so long since he’d been with a woman—Cora, before she’d become too big and ungainly with their son. He wanted to make love to Charlotte, but he didn’t know if that was his body responding to a normal, basic need or his heart thinking that he wanted to get closer to Charlotte.

All he knew was that he wanted to take her home and straight up to his bedroom.

Good Lord, but all the blood had drained to his cock, and it was standing at attention, ready and willing to make the sacrifice. He hoped to God he wasn’t walking funny.

The silence was becoming awkward. Was she thinking the same things? Did women even think about making love? He’d heard that men were far more driven by the need than women. Though, Cora had been energetic in the bedroom.

Sweat was beginning to form on his forehead, and he was fairly certain he was not walking normally.

Maybe it was best to get it out in the open. After all, a good marriage was based on trust and honesty, right? “Where do we go from here?” he asked. “What is our next step?”

They walked a few paces, and he let her have the time she needed to form an answer. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Was that too crass? Good God, he needed to know if he could make love to Charlotte. Now. As soon as they got home.

“I think we need to pay a visit to the detective,” she said. “We need to do that right away, before others get wind of our marriage and my aunt realizes what we’ve done.”

He wanted to groan in defeat and frustration. She hadn’t understood his question.

They were walking on the street, passing others. He was nodding to the couples they passed as if he didn’t have a raging erection and a near-uncontrollable desire to bed his wife.

“I agree,” he said. “I’d like to get it done and over with as soon as possible.” Heaven help him, but he wanted to do something else as soon as possible. This was painful and so uncomfortable. He willed his body to calm down, but it raged with an unholy need that had been denied for too many years.

It was getting darker, the shadows longer. The crowds on the streets were thinning, and light was spilling from windows of the homes they were passing. A slight breeze had blown up. The day of their wedding was coming to a close. How many more days did they have left?

“What if I’m wrong?” she asked quietly. “What if Edmund isn’t the one killing those girls?”

“If you are wrong, then you’re wrong, and the police can move on to other suspects.”

“If I’m wrong then we didn’t need to get married in the first place.”

His heart hurt a little at the quiet statement. “Is it that bad?” he asked. “Being married to me?”

She grinned, and it was such a change from their serious conversation that it made his breath catch. “We’ve only been married half a day. Time will tell.”

He chuckled as he led her up the stone steps to his house and opened the front door to let her in.

He shrugged out of his coat and took her shawl, such a domestic scene, as if they’d been performing it for years, instead of days, and he hoped to God she didn’t see the bulge in his trousers.

“It smells like Mrs. Smith has been cooking a delightful dinner for us,” she said, completely unaware of the war raging inside of him. He looked longingly at the steps that led to his bedroom. Hell, he didn’t care at this point. He would take her anywhere, but she seemed oblivious.

Charlotte closed her eyes and lifted her head to sniff the air redolent of spices and some sort of beef. Jacob closed his eyes, too, and swallowed his groan.

Suddenly his hands were cupping her face and his lips were descending upon hers and then devouring her with the hunger that he had been fighting since leaving the Crystal Palace.

He kissed her like he was starving, like he would never get enough of her. And he was starving. Ravenous. Completely out of control. But he couldn’t help himself.

Only when they heard Mrs. Smith clomping down the hall did he reluctantly pull away, cursing his housekeeper.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Mrs. Smith said, completely unaware of what she’d interrupted.

Charlotte was looking at him with a dazed expression, her lips glistening. “I’ve prepared a nice wedding dinner just for the two of you. I can serve it whenever you are ready.”

Charlotte looked away and touched the back of her hand to her lips. “I um… I’m ready for dinner.”

She turned away from him, and Jacob had no choice but to follow her into the dining room while his body screamed in fury. How in the hell was he supposed to eat in his condition?

Mrs. Smith served them then let them be, telling them to not worry about the plates, that she would get to them in the morning. A subtle hint that they were on their own for the rest of the night and would not be disturbed.

Thank the Lord.

“I don’t regret it,” Jacob said, halfway between the meal. They were the first words they’d spoken to each other since he’d kissed her, and he was feeling reckless, although he’d been careful to have only one glass of wine. Charlotte had had none.

Charlotte looked up at him, her brows drawn in confusion. “Regret what?”

“Marrying you. Earlier you had said that if we were wrong about Edmund then we needn’t have gotten married. I just want you to know that if we’re wrong, I don’t regret marrying you.”

He felt like a weight had been lifted with the admission. He didn’t regret marrying her. He liked that he was married to her.

And maybe Armbruster was right. Cora would understand.

“Oh.” She looked down at her plate. “I just meant that if we are wrong then we didn’t have to get married.”

Jacob put his fork down to consider her. “Do you think we are wrong? About Edmund?”

She fiddled with her fork, still not looking at him. Thankfully, his body had cooled and was somewhat under control, although his erection was not as painful, it was still there, hoping.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to believe I’m right, but the parallel between how those girls were killed and what he did to those cats…” She shuddered. “It seems like something we can’t overlook.”

“I agree.” He picked his fork up and was prepared to spear another piece of meat but put his fork back down and looked at her intently. “And what about our marriage? Do you think we were wrong to do that?”

He was in a strange, intense mood. He hoped he wasn’t scaring Charlotte, but there were all of these emotions inside of him, and he didn’t know how to deal with them.

“I think it’s far too late to wonder such a thing.” She grinned, and a bit of his anxiety lessened.

“I don’t think we were wrong.” He picked his fork up again and speared his meat rather viciously.

“I’m glad,” she said softly.

He continued to eat while Charlotte just moved her food around on her plate.

“Are you not hungry?” Jacob asked, eyeing her plate. “Mrs. Smith made your favorite dessert.”

“I know. I’m just too nervous to eat.”

“What are you nervous about?”

Making love? Because despite his body’s obvious anticipation of it, he was nervous as well. He’d never bed another woman before. Only Cora.

“This.” Her fingers fluttered through the air. “Everything.”

“Meeting with the detective tomorrow?”

“That, too.”

She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and suddenly appeared pale and nervous, exactly as she had when he saw her right before the wedding ceremony. He’d been nervous then, too.

“What do you expect from this marriage?” she blurted out. Her hand covered her mouth, and her eyes widened, as if she were appalled that she had voiced the question.

But Jacob was glad to have it out in the open. “I guess I was waiting to find out what you wanted from this marriage,” he said.

“You know what I want.”

“Safety. Security. You have all of that. For as long as you want it. Even if you go to America and we are still married.”

“You would let me go to America while we are still married?”

“If that is what would make you feel safer.”

“But why? Don’t you want to be free to find a wife?”

His heart twisted. “I have a wife.”

She folded her hands in her lap and looked at her plate. “I like to think I’m a strong woman,” she said. “I survived my time with my aunt. I survived my time in the rookery. And yet, so many things frighten me.”

“Strong people are scared all of the time. Facing their fears is what makes them strong.”

“I don’t feel strong right now. I don’t know what the future holds. I used to think about my future when I was living with my aunt, and I knew that whatever it was, it couldn’t be as bad as the present. There had to be a better future for me. I clung to that, and I think it was that thought that gave me the courage to escape. But now, I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t know what path holds the rest of my future.”

“What are the two paths?” he asked.

She looked up at him. “America.” She paused. “Or England.”

His breath caught in his throat. “I’m surprised to hear that you would consider staying.”

“But if I stay the stain of divorce would follow us.”

“If you stay is there a reason to divorce?”

Her eyes glistened with tears in the candlelight. “We’ve not even been married for twenty-four hours. Is this really what we want to discuss on our wedding day?”

“You were the one who said you were frightened of the future. Are you frightened because you do not know what it holds, or are you frightened because you suspect what it can hold?”