“Well, that is bad news indeed,” Elliot muttered. He fell back in his chair with a heavy sigh. Lydia crossed her arms over her chest and suppressed the victory smile.
***
By the time Alexander returned home a few hours later, he was feeling rather happy indeed, and seeing Stewart that afternoon had only made it better. They had celebrated Alexander’s good fortune, and he realized how much of a good friend he had in Stewart. He knew they’d be close until the day they died.
To think only a few weeks ago, he was lost in a world he didn’t fully understand, and he had been entirely alone but for an uncle who had long ago lost his mind. Now, he had reunited with good friends, fallen in love with the most wonderful woman, and had a bright future ahead of him. He could not wait for it to start.
“Your Grace,” the butler said as Alexander shrugged his tailcoat off. The butler took it from him and placed it on the coat hook. “A letter came for you while you were out.”
“Anything important?” Alexander asked as he made his way across the entrance hall. He looked around at the dilapidated building and thought of all the improvements he would make once he was married. He would begin with the roof, that was for sure. As winter approached, he dreaded the downpours that found their way through the holes.
“It was hand delivered, Your Grace, so I would suggest so, yes.” The butler trotted to keep up with him. “It’s on your desk, Sir.”
“Excellent, thank you.” Alexander spun around just as he reached the study door. “Oh, prepare a few bottles of our finest wines this evening, will you? We have some celebrating to do!”
The butler nodded before scuttling away, and Alexander locked himself into the quiet of his study. The peace enveloped him, and he finally felt secure in the knowledge that everything was going to be all right.
Hitching up his trouser legs, he sat down and let out a contented sigh. Then he spotted the letter on the desk. The handwriting was neat and small, the ink dark against the fine cream parchment. Alexander frowned. Something about it made him feel patently uneasy, though that was nonsense. How could a letter do such a thing, especially when one was yet to discover its contents?
He leaned in slowly, turned it over, and snapped the wax seal. It didn’t take him long to read. There were only two lines, but they were two lines that would change his life forever.
I retract my blessing of your marriage to my niece, Lady Charlotte Fairchild. Please do not contact her or me ever again.
Elliot Fairchild.
Chapter 28
“I don’t know how long it has been going on, but from this moment, I forbid you from ever seeing the Duke of Ashbourne again.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It is unacceptable, and I forbid it. Do you understand?”
Charlotte sank into her seat, dread clutching her heart and squeezing. Tension buzzed through the room, and as she stared at the Turkish rug, the eyes of her uncle and aunt and Lucille bored into her. Surely it couldn’t be. Surely her uncle would have given his blessing. She had been so certain. So sure.
“No! I… I don’t understand,” she stuttered, not looking up at him. Her vision blurred, but she blinked away the tears. There had to be more to this, more she didn’t understand. More that she could fix.
“He came to see me today, quite out of the blue I might add,” Uncle Elliot continued. “He asked for your hand in marriage, and frankly, Charlotte, I do not think he is a suitable candidate. I do wish you had come to me sooner.”
“But…” She blinked again then looked up at her uncle, painfully aware of the others in the room. “He’s a duke, and he’s a kind man, and we love one another. I would have thought—”
Aunt Lydia tutted loudly from the couch. “What has love to do with anything?”
“And if you’ll forgive my saying,” Uncle Elliot added, “you are too young to truly understand what love is.”
Charlotte furrowed her brow. Her uncle was behaving strangely. He had always been protective, but never had he been so condescending. Not like her aunt Lydia.
“Has something happened?” she asked. “You seemed to like him when you met in the theater.”
The weight of the room bore down on her shoulders, and there seemed to be an acrid smell in the air. Aunt Lydia huffed from her seat, her arms crossed over her ample bosom. Lucille remained on her chair in the corner. Was that a smirk Charlotte detected?
She didn’t want to look directly at her to clarify. She couldn’t bear making eye contact with her. Not after everything. Not in such a personal, vulnerable moment. Finally, she glanced at Elliot to find his features had softened into pity and sorrow.
“I am sorry, Charlotte,” he said in a quiet voice. “I know how disappointed you must feel, but we really don’t think he is a suitable match for you. You know we only want the best for you.”
We?Was he including even Lucille in that? A surge of irritation rushed through her. These people, her guardians, hardly knew her. Not really, not deep down. Aunt Lydia didn’t approve of her unconventional ways, and though Uncle Elliot humored her a little more, even he didn’t agree with the way her father had raised her, nor some of her more outlandish beliefs.
Was that why they were doing this? Becauseshehad selected the duke? Because she wanted him? Maybe it was their lack of control that made them baulk at the suggestion. Perhaps it was because they hadn’t chosen him themselves.
