“Sister, I don’t know how I shall endure it,” Charlotte sighed as they waited outside for Lady Haddington and Alison to appear. Tempting as it was, they could not disappear off to another shop without their companions.
“I am sure it will all be forgotten in a matter of days,” Martha said, but Charlotte thought she could detect a hint of doubt even in her sister’s voice.
Their stepmother and stepsister came out of the shop a few minutes later, and Lady Margaret insisted that they accompany them to the glove shop. Charlotte groaned, knowing full well that the scene would be just the same in every shop they visited.
By the time they returned home a couple of hours later, Charlotte was exhausted. The stares and whispers had continued everywhere they went, and Lady Haddington and Alison seemed to be enjoying Charlotte’s humiliation as much as Charlotte herself hated it.
“So, how did you find your first excursion into the ton as a duchess to be?” the viscountess sneered as they made their way into the house.
Charlotte found that she could not even speak to answer her. She fled up the stairs to her room, flung herself onto her bed, and wept.
She wished from the very depths of her heart that she could be like her mother had been, and truly not care what other people thought of her. But the judgement of the ton felt heavy on her shoulders now and she could not escape the feelings of shame and guilt. She should not have allowed him to kiss her, but even now, as she allowed herself to think of that stolen moment between them, she felt a flutter in her heart.
But it was useless! Could she go through with this marriage, and force the Duke to tie himself to her forever when she knew that he did not truly love her? And could she consign herself to a marriage that was based on anything other than a foundation of affection and respect? She liked the Duke very much, and she could not deny that he was handsome and respectable, but she barely knew him. She had no idea if they could really be happy together, living as husband and wife in that intimate way that she had hardly ever allowed herself to imagine with any man, let alone with one of such an elevated position as the Duke of Seton.
The alternative, though, seemed worse still. A life of humiliation and shame, ruined because of one bad decision, a few seconds of indiscretion. And it would not only be her ruin but her sister’s ruin too.
She let out a sigh, and the tears continued to fall. She found that she did not know what to do or which way to turn. She wanted only to be alone.
It was the middle of the afternoon when there was a knock at Charlotte’s chamber door. Charlotte rose from her bed and went to open it to see Sally standing there, looking a little nervous. She had noticed that the maid seemed rather ill at ease around her lately, although she had no idea why.
“The Duke of Seton is here, Madam,” Sally said, dropping a curtsy. “He is waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Charlotte nodded. “Give me a moment or two to make myself look presentable,” she said, then crossed the room to look in the glass. Her eyes were puffy from crying. She splashed some water on her face and straightened her gown, smiling wryly at the thought that despite everything, she still wanted to look her best for the Duke. He deserved that, at the very least, after everything he had done for her.
As she was leaving the room and following Sally downstairs, she felt a pang of hope. She was glad, suddenly, that the Duke had come to see her. Much to her surprise, she felt that he was the only one she could really talk to about her confused feelings. He was the only one who would really understand what she was going through.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Luke could tell that Charlotte had been crying as soon as she entered the room, with her maid following. He felt a pang of sadness at the sight of her pale face and the puffy skin around her eyes. But he knew that their situation was not simple, and he was not arrogant enough to believe that the simple fact of marrying him was enough to make her delirious with happiness. Nothing in life was that straightforward, was it?
He smiled at her, hoping to put her at her ease. “Shall we sit?”
She nodded. “Has anyone called for tea?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Your stepmother seemed keen for herself and Alison to join us, but I somehow persuaded her not to.” He glanced at the maid, standing discreetly at a distance by the window. Of course, they could not be left alone, after what had happened at the ball, but he thought they could still speak privately. He paused and looked at her searchingly.
Charlotte sat down and he took the chair opposite her. Despite the presence of the maid, he did not entirely trust himself to be too close to her after his loss of control in the gardens. He allowed himself to think privately for a moment that he was very much looking forward to making her his wife when there would be no need any longer to control himself to such an onerous extent.
“So your stepmother tells me you went shopping this morning?” he said. There were so many more important things he wanted to say, but he somehow felt that he could not plunge straight in. He felt the need to try and make conversation with her, but things suddenly felt rather awkward in comparison to their easy banter when they had first met. So much had changed between them since those first few hours spent in each other’s company. Nothing was simple anymore.
Charlotte frowned. “We went into town, yes,” she replied.
“And… did you find what you needed?” He was not quite sure whether he was asking the right questions; he knew little of ladies’ shopping habits, after all. But something about the look on her face told him that things had not been entirely satisfactory on her shopping trip that morning.
She shrugged. “We bought some ribbons, but…” Her voice trailed off.
“But what?” He let out a sigh of exasperation. “Charlotte, will you not tell me what troubles you? I can see from your face that you are unhappy. We have much to talk about, do we not? Let us throw off this awkwardness and talk as we once did.”
She looked at him, then, with her clear brown eyes wide. “Your Grace,” she said slowly. “You must know we are the subject of every whisper, every gossip in the ton. Everyone was staring at me while I was in town.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to work out how to respond. When he opened them, he saw that her eyes were downcast; she was staring at the floor. Anywhere, it seemed, rather than looking at him. He coughed.
“Charlotte, I must firstly apologize for my behavior the other night. It was most wrong of me to – um, to… to act as I did.” He felt the awkwardness of his words most keenly as he spoke them, but the matter was indeed delicate, and he knew he could not speak everything that he felt out loud. He had to behave properly after allowing himself such an indiscretion.
“I –” She blushed as she spoke. “I should not have allowed it, Your Grace.”
He smiled at that. She had clearly enjoyed the moment once she had given herself over to her feelings. He lowered his voice. “But we are in something of a delicate situation now, are we not?”
