A Brooding Christmas
Promise
PREVIEW
Prologue
Charlotte took a hold of her sister’s hand and pressed it. “I am so happy for you. You look beautiful.” Her throat closed up for a moment though she fought to smile. “I know that father would have been delighted at this day.”
Her sister, Amelia, smiled back at her though there were tears dampening her eyes. “I know he would have been. He thought as well of Hesterway as I do.”
Charlotte took in a deep breath and forced herself to set aside the sorrowful memories of the past. Her sister had been waiting for over a year to marry the Earl of Hesterway and now, finally, she had been able to do so. “You must promise to visit very soon.”
“Oh but we are going to London for Christmas, did not Hesterway tell you?”
A slight frown danced between Charlotte’s eyebrows. “No, he did not.”
“Yes, we are to go to London for Christmas and though it will be the little Season, we should very much like you to join us there.” The smile on her sister’s face dimmed just a little. “I have not yet spoken to Lady Barcsay but I presume she will permit you. Given the way she clearly despises the both of us, I should think that she would be glad to have some freedom!”
Charlotte winced but said nothing. Their father had remarried only two years before he had passed away unexpectedly and, during their mourning period, it had become perfectly clear both to Charlotte and to her sister that Lady Barcsay had no interest in her stepdaughters whatsoever. Slowly but surely, she had begun to withdraw, choosing to dine separately and thereafter, to sit alone in her own private parlor than in their company. For a time, Charlotte had thought that it had been because of her grief but the increasingly caustic remarks and sharp looks had convinced both Charlotte and Amelia that Lady Barcsay did not like them in the least – not that Lady Barcsay let anyone from society know of that, however! During the wedding, she had been nothing but gracious and kind, smiling, laughing and putting her arm around both Charlotte and Amelia at different times, as though she truly did love and care for them. It had taken all of Charlotte’s strength not to pull away, especially when the harsh things Lady Barcsay had said to her only the previous day had come floating back to her.
“Will you fare well?”
Charlotte looked back into her sister’s face, having become lost in thought for a time. “What do you mean?”
Amelia bit her lip, then spread out her hands. “I am a little concerned, leaving you at home with Lady Barcsay, especially since our brother is still away on the continent.” Thomas, their elder brother, had gone to the continent a little before their father’s illness and, despite his desire to return home, had accepted his father’s requirements of remaining where he was and bringing the work there to a close. Even news of Lord Barcsay’s passing had kept him there, telling both Charlotte and Amelia through letters that he was determined to bring to an end all that was held there, simply so that he might return to England and never again leave. His absence had been difficult to endure – even more so for Miss Hannah Montague, his betrothed.
“But you are married as of today and you need not concern yourself with thoughts of me,” Charlotte answered, quickly. “You must concentrate solely on being the wife of Lord Hesterway. I shall be perfectly contented, I assure you and our brother stated that he will come home very soon – and be wed almost immediately thereafter.”
Her sister’s expression did not change, telling Charlotte that she did not believe her. “Everything is going to change, is it not? The stipulations of the will dictate that you are to transfer all your belongings to a modest dwelling and reside there with our stepmother, a necessity that shall take effect upon our brother’s nuptials!
That in itself will be a trial. For me, it is a little easier, given that I am wed now and must move all of my things to Lord Hesterway’s estate but for you…” Tears filled her eyes and she grasped Charlotte’s hand. “Would you be inclined to dwell in my abode?”
The desire to say yes was very strong indeed but with a sheer force of will, Charlotte shook her head. “No, I cannot. You must live with your husband and I will be perfectly contented in Haynes Manor.” The main estate had moved now to Charlotte and Amelia’s eldest brother, the new Lord Barcsay and his soon-to-be wife and thus, both Charlotte and her stepmother would settle into the Dower house instead, which was only five miles between the two houses. “I must hope that I too will marry sometime soon.”
Amelia let out a small sigh. “Indeed. You have missed the last two Seasons given that first, our father was unwell and, thereafter, because of our mourning period but there is nothing to prevent you from doing so now.”
“Though I may be considered something of a spinster!” Charlotte exclaimed, though her sister laughed but shook her head quickly. “The little Season will be a good beginning, at least. I should very much like to accept but –”
“There you are.”
Charlotte lifted her head to see their stepmother coming to approach them, though neither Charlotte nor Amelia rose from their seats to greet her. Lady Barcsay kept a smile pinned to her lips even if her green eyes held no warmth.
“I have just been informed by Lord Hesterway that you wish to take Charlotte with you to London for Christmas time,” she said, her tone a little clipped. “I should not like you to go, however, for otherwise I shall be quite alone.”
With a quick glance to her sister, Charlotte shrugged. “I should not say that. You will have my brother and his wife near you for Christmas.”
Lady Barcsay’s jaw tightened, her eyes flashing. “I do not think that you have any right to refuse me.”
“I think, Lady Barcsay, that you will find that by Christmas time, Charlotte will be of age to decide things for herself, will she not?” Amelia’s tone was amiable but there was a hint of steel within her words. “I do not think that you can refuse her simply because of your determinations.”
Lady Barcsay drew herself up to her full height, her arms folding over her chest. “I was not going to tell you this today but given that you insist on being inconsiderate and selfish, I shall do so regardless.” She took in a breath and Charlotte’s stomach clenched, suddenly concerned with whatever it was her stepmother was going to say. “Within your father’s will there is a statement where he desired you to remain unwed and, instead, to be my companion. You will not be permitted, therefore, to engage yourself to any gentleman, or to marry either. There is no need for you to go to London then, is there, for you will not be able to pursue any gentlemen or let any gentlemen pursue you! I do hope that you understand, Charlotte. It is clear to me that your father was very concerned for my welfare and wanted to make certain that I was cared for.”
Charlotte did not say anything for some time, not quite certain how she ought to respond. Instinctively, she fought back against the idea, throwing herself away from it and refusing to take it in. How could her father have done such a thing? How could he have made such a statement without even discussing it with her? Had he not thought of her future? Had he not considered what she herself might want?
“I think that Charlotte has every right to see where that statement is written, do you not?” Amelia interrupted the silence which had grown between both Charlotte and Lady Barcsay, her hand now on Charlotte’s, squeezing it tightly. “You cannot say such a thing and expect her to simply believe it.”
This did not make Lady Barcsay flinch. Instead, she merely shrugged. “Very well. I shall have it procured and then you shall read it yourself, Charlotte.”
The confidence in her voice made Charlotte’s spirits sink very low indeed, crumpling into a ball and then burning up into smoke and ashes. Her father had, then, determined that Charlotte would give up any hope of a future in order to look after her stepmother, even though Lady Barcsay had very little requirement for such a thing.
“I do not understand why my father would do that,” she said, aware of the tremble in her voice. “He knew that I was looking forward to the Season.”
“And also knew that you were more than likely, on your way to becoming a spinster. After all, it is not as though any gentlemen pursued you with any great eagerness during your debut, was it?”
The biting remark made Charlotte wince inwardly, aware that the truth was in it all the same.
“He cared for me,” Lady Barcsay continued, her voice softening just a little though Charlotte caught the flickering smile in the corners of her mouth, a smile which said that she knew very well what she was doing and just how much it pained Charlotte to hear it. “It was clear to me that he loved me and even now, with his passing, there comes that same awareness of all that he felt for me.” She sighed and put one hand to her heart, looking away for a moment. “I am to be cared for, at his command, for the rest of my days.”
“No.” Amelia shook her head, speaking before Charlotte could even think of what to say. “You cannot insist that Charlotte follows what our father has said for her to do, even if you think that it is what ought to happen. I will not permit it.”
Lady Barcsay lifted one eyebrow. “You think that she will defy her father’s requirement of her?”
Charlotte closed her eyes, feeling her heart wrench. On one hand, she was free to make her own choice but on the other, the weight of responsibility to do as her father had wished her to do sat down heavily upon her shoulders.
“I do not know what society will think should they hear that the daughter of the late Lord Barcsay refused to do as was asked of her,” Lady Barcsay continued, her tone now holding a good deal of foreboding, a warning that she would be the one to spread such a story, should Charlotte refuse. “It is her duty.”
“Enough.” Charlotte broke through her stepmother’s words, her voice rasping with emotion. “Now is not the time for any such conversation. We are at Amelia’s wedding and it is to be a joyous occasion. Any sort of discussion can take place at another time.”
“Charlotte, no! You cannot be thinking of doing what she asks!” Amelia, ignoring Charlotte’s suggestion that they bring the conversation to an end, continued on fervently. “You deserve to have your chance at a home and a family of your own. I know that father cared deeply for all of us but he cannot have been thinking clearly when he made that statement. Besides which, even if he was, it is not a command, nor a dictate. You can still choose not to do so.”
Lady Barcsay snorted. “And what shame that choice would bring! Which gentlemen would look at you should you make that decision and should all the ton know of it?”
“Please!” Her vision suddenly blurred with tears, Charlotte rose from her chair and, not even looking where she was going, stumbled past her stepmother and made her way out of the drawing room at once. Wiping her eyes and forcing a smile so that those who walked past her would not see her upset, Charlotte made her way to her bedchamber and hurried inside.
Closing the door, she rushed to her bed and threw herself down upon it, her tears now flowing freely. She had known that her father cared deeply for his new wife but she had never imagined that he would ever do something like this! To give up all that she had hoped for herself, to give up her own life in order to be the companion to someone who did not care for her in the least… it took everything away from her.
Her heart broke apart and Charlotte began to sob. She did not hear her sister come in but soon, Amelia sat down beside her on the bed, offering her what comfort she could but it did not dull the pain.
She was now fated to reside in a state of perpetual spinsterhood, for the present and all times to come; and with that grim reality, all her hopes and dreams were utterly shattered, with naught but despair in place of any prospect for restoration.
Chapter One
‘My dear sister,’ Charlotte read silently, her heart beginning to quicken with a fierce hope and expectation. ‘I do hope that you will come to London for the Christmas Season. I am already expecting your arrival, even though it is still some months away! I have missed your company desperately and have thought of you every day. I cannot bear to think of you alone in the house with our stepmother. I cannot imagine what you are enduring and thus, with that in mind, I must beg of you to come to stay with us. I have already written to our brother to inform him of my invitation to you and I am sure that he will write to you very soon. Do say that you will come, my dear? You are of age now to make your own decision and though I am certain that Lady Barcsay will inform you that you are to remain with her, remember that you are free to make your own choice. Besides, it is not as though you will be abandoning her, is it? A few weeks away from the Dower house will do you good, I am sure of it, and we will be able to spend many happy moments together. Will that not please your heart? Will you not find joy and hope in that? Write to me very soon and tell me that you are coming. Yours, your most affectionate sister.’
Charlotte let out a slow breath as she folded up the letter again and then pressed it to her heart. Ever since Amelia had wed, Charlotte had felt an ever-increasing sense of loneliness. To bring a little respite to that, to find herself in a home filled with love and warmth and happiness would bring her a great relief, she was certain.
Though, of course, she still had Lady Barcsay to contend with.
Closing her eyes, Charlotte took in a long breath and tried to find the courage which she would need to inform her stepmother about such a thing. To go to London for Christmas would be no small thing, for it would mean leaving her stepmother alone here in the Dower house, though, of course, there were other family members that she could choose to go and join if she wished. Charlotte was not her only family.
“I want to go,” she murmured aloud, turning back to her writing desk and, picking up a fresh piece of paper, laying it down on the table and smoothing it with one hand. These last few months had been nothing but difficult, had offered her naught but sorrow and frustration and the chance of escaping it for even a short while was not something that Charlotte could refuse.
‘Amelia, how glad I am to hear from you,’ she wrote, her quill scratching across the paper in a hasty fashion, as though she were afraid that her stepmother would come into the room without warning and would somehow know what she was writing. “I cannot say more at present but be assured that I have every intention of making my way to London for Christmas. Thank you for your kind invitation. I shall count the days until we are in each other’s company again!’
Before she could change her mind or lose herself in her thoughts, worrying about what she ought to do, Charlotte signed the letter, folded it and then rang the bell while she waited for the wax to warm itself through. Sealing it closed, she addressed it and, just as that was finished, the door opened and a footman came in. She studied him for a moment before ascertaining that indeed, this was one of the servants that she trusted. Many of them would tell everything that Charlotte had been doing to her stepmother, who would then go on to question her and, at the same time, find fault with her for what she had either done or had failed to do.
“Have this sent immediately,” she directed. “At this very moment, do you understand?”
The footman nodded, took the letter from her without a word and then made his way from the room – and Charlotte let out a long, slow breath, closing her eyes as she leaned back into her chair.
Now all I have to do is inform my stepmother that I will be going to London for Christmas.
A wry smile tipped her lips and though it lingered, a sadness entered her heart and began to pull it down towards the depths. Living with her stepmother had been a dull, painful existence where even taking a breath on some days seemed to cause difficulty. It was as though Lady Barcsay did not want her to be in this very house with her though, whenever Charlotte stepped out of it even to go on a short errand, the lady became very angry indeed and demanded to know what Charlotte had been doing – often times insisting on accompanying her the next time she stepped out. Charlotte did not understand it, for it seemed to her that Lady Barcsay appeared to enjoy making her life a miserable existence, seemed to relish the fact that Charlotte had been directed by her late father’s hopes, to live in this way. There were times when Charlotte had thought to simply state that she would not be doing such a thing any longer, that she would take herself to her brother’s house now that he was back or, even better, to London to find herself a match but then the words of her father came back to her – written words which she had read herself – and her thoughts had crumpled into a heap and faded away.
“Charlotte?”
The door to Charlotte’s supposedly private parlor flew open and Lady Barcsay strode in, her hands to her hips as she glared at her.
“What letters are you writing?”
Charlotte blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I saw one of the footmen depart and demanded to know where he was going. It seems that you directed him to take your letter to be posted at once, without even a single flicker of hesitation! Is there a reason to that?”
There is but I need not express it to you. “I am merely keeping up with my correspondence,” she said, turning back to her writing table and taking out another piece of paper. “Do excuse me.”
Her stepmother did not move but, instead, came directly beside Charlotte’s writing desk, her hand, in a tight fist, slamming down on the table and making Charlotte jump. “How dare you speak to me with such disrespect? You do not ask me to leave your presence!”
“Yes, I do.” Charlotte, irritated and fatigued, looked up at her stepmother. “And I ask you again to excuse me, for I have some further letters I should like to send.” She chose her words carefully, refusing to give Lady Barcsay any reason to rail at her though it was difficult not to lose her temper. This was how her daily life was, a constant struggle against all that Lady Barcsay said and did.
Her stepmother leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “To whom are you writing?”
Charlotte closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of her stepmother’s furious expression. “To many people. Now, if – ”
“You are the most impolite, inconsiderate creature!” Lady Barcsay cried, her face going scarlet. “How dare you refuse to answer me? What is it that I must say in order to have you speak to me civilly?”
“I am not speaking unkindly in any way. However, some of these affairs are my own.”
Lady Barcsay laughed harshly, one finger coming out to shake in front of Charlotte’s face. “You are meant to be my companion, meant to be a support to me and all you do is leech my strength from me. You enjoy causing me pain, do you not? I think your father would be ashamed, should he see you as you are now.”
Anger flared hot in Charlotte’s chest and she could not hold herself back. She had done nothing wrong and yet her stepmother was insisting that she was the one causing pain and suffering? Using her father in an attempt to make her feel even smaller and more belittled than she was already fired Charlotte’s upset all the more and, in a sudden show of strength, she pushed herself to her feet, the chair’s feet scraping on the floor behind her.
“I am going to go to London for Christmas,” she said, the words rushing out of her now. “I have accepted the invitation and expect to go to spend time with my sister at the very beginning of December. I have no expectation of when I shall return but I shall certainly be away for some weeks.”
Lady Barcsay’s eyes narrowed into dark slits, her face going scarlet. “You have no right to do such a thing. You have no right at all!”
“Yes, I do.” Charlotte drew herself up, folding her arms over her chest in the hope of filling herself with confidence. “I am of age. Therefore, that is what I have decided.”
“And you would leave me here alone?” Lady Barcsay pressed one finger hard into Charlotte’s chest, words spitting out of her mouth. “You spiteful, inconsiderate, selfish, arrogant little – ”
“Might I suggest that you step back from my sister, Lady Barcsay?”
Lady Barcsay let out a shriek of surprise and Charlotte caught her breath, only to turn and then run into her brother’s arms, overwhelmed with relief upon seeing him.
“Thomas, whatever are you doing here?” she whispered, tears beginning to splash onto her cheeks. “I did not think that you would be coming to call.”
Her brother held her tightly for a few moments and then released her. “I received Amelia’s letter yesterday and thought I would come to make certain that all is well,” he said, quietly, before sending an angry look towards Lady Barcsay. “But now I see that my sister is being treated poorly, that she is being spoken to cruelly simply because she has decided to go to London for the Christmas Season? I presume that is why you thought to call her such names?”
“I… I did not mean… ” Lady Barcsay went a trifle paler than before, moving back from Charlotte and her brother, her hands raised as though in defense of herself. “I became upset at the thought of being alone at Christmas time.”
Thomas stood tall, his presence filling the room. “That does not mean that you have any right to speak to Charlotte in such a way, especially when she has given up a great deal already. You ought to be encouraging her to have some time with her sister, ought to be glad to see her enjoy herself in that way.”
“Of course.” Lady Barcsay suddenly seemed very humble, her eyes downcast, her head lowering just a little. “Forgive me, Charlotte. I did not mean to say such things.”
Charlotte cast a glance to her brother, seeing his scowl darkening. It was just as obvious to him as it was to her, it seemed, that there was nothing genuine in what her stepmother said. The only reason she spoke so was because Thomas was the new Viscount and could, very easily, reduce Lady Barcsay’s circumstances, should he so wish to. That was a great fear, Charlotte knew, having heard Lady Barcsay say that very thing to a friend who had come to call – though her stepmother did not know that she had overheard her. It was one of the many reasons that Charlotte disliked her stepmother so greatly, for the falseness and the pretense was more than her heart could bear at times.
“You have decided to go to London then, yes?” Thomas’ tone warmed as he looked to Charlotte, now ignoring Lady Barcsay entirely. “I am glad to hear it. I was afraid that your remarkable sense of duty would prevent you from doing so.”
Charlotte smiled. “I have decided to go, indeed. I would very much like to see Amelia again.”
“Though you must not forget your commitment!”
Looking again to her stepmother, Charlotte caught the flash of anger in her eyes, aware that she was dampening down her true emotions in front of Thomas. “I have no intention of stepping away from that commitment.”
“You cannot decide you have given it up,” Lady Barcsay stated, firmly. “You cannot simply turn your back on me.”
Thomas took a step forward and instantly, Lady Barcsay fell silent. “I wish I had witnessed this will with my own eyes,” he uttered, his tone filled with bitterness. “I find it most difficult to credit that our father would ever have uttered such sentiments.”
Lady Barcsay lifted her chin. “It is hardly my fault that the mail coach the will was in came under attack and that the will was lost in the dark and the discontent of that,” she answered, a little too sharply. “Besides, your sister saw those words and read them carefully.”
Charlotte glanced to her brother and gave him the smallest nod, seeing his frown only deepen. There was something about this situation that unsettled him and, were she honest, Charlotte would admit that she too felt the same. Nonetheless, she had already decided to do as her father had asked of her, regardless of her feelings on the matter. It was her duty, just as it had been her brother’s duty to care for their father’s holdings on the continent. He had not returned until his duty was complete and she, in the same way, would not return to her own freedom until her duty came to an end.
Thomas snorted, his lip curling. “Whether or not father wrote those words, I stand by the fact that it was not an order and not a demand. Charlotte, if you should choose to find yourself in a happy and settled situation, then I will not think the worse of you.” He held up one hand, palm out towards Lady Barcsay, silencing her before she had even begun to splutter. “However, it is good that you are to go to London. I am pleased to hear that. And you, Lady Barcsay, I was to invite you to spend your Christmas with Hannah and me but given how you have treated Charlotte, I am not in mind to extend that invitation any longer.”
“It was a mere moment of anger and upset,” Lady Barcsay answered, her tone a little wheedling. “Pray, forgive me for it.”
Thomas looked to Charlotte who simply smiled briefly and then looked away, leaving the decision with him. He sighed, rubbed one hand over his eyes and then shook his head. “I shall extend the invitation to you, Lady Barcsay, because it is what my father would have wanted me to do. However, I must warn you, if there is any further… moments where you feel the urge to take out your anger upon my sister, then that shall not sit well with me. I do hope I make myself clear?”
“Very clear indeed.” A red spot rose in Lady Barcsay’s cheeks and Charlotte was quite certain her teeth were clenched but, all the same, she remained perfectly composed.
“Now,” Thomas smiled, looking down at Charlotte. “Come, Charlotte, let us take tea together and you can tell me all your news.” He threw a glance to Lady Barcsay. “And I do mean all.”
Charlotte slipped her arm through her brother’s and walked with him to the door. “You will not change her, you know,” she murmured, as Thomas smiled sadly. “She is afraid you will take some of her yearly income away or remove some of the servants, that is all. There is no genuine thought of change.”
“But I can protect you as best I can,” he told her, opening the door so they might walk through together. “And I am going to make certain that this Christmas, you have time simply to enjoy yourself, just as you always should have been permitted to do.” He patted her hand lightly. “Charlotte, if you should find yourself falling in love with a gentleman, I want you to know that you have my blessing to proceed.”
Charlotte gave him a wry smile. “I hardly think that such a thing will happen, Thomas,” she answered, though he chuckled at her determined response. “And besides that, I have a duty to our stepmother.”
“It is not something demanded of you,” he reminded her, quickly. “If you should find a desire to remove this mantle of responsibility from yourself and instead find yourself happy, then I would be glad to see it, as would Amelia.” He nudged her lightly. “Do promise me that you will consider it?”
Keeping her gaze away from him, Charlotte shrugged, feeling that sense of responsibility to all that her father had asked of her and knowing that she could not turn from it. “I will consider it,” she answered, a little unwillingly. But I shall not turn from my duty.
Chapter Two
Samuel poured himself another brandy and then flung himself back down in his chair by the fire. The invitation from Lord Trenton rested, open, on the chair next to him where he had set it and his eyes turned to it again.
I do not want to go to London.
He closed his eyes. But nor do I want to remain here, alone.
That had been the greatest trouble for him of late. He had spent the last couple of years at his estate – not refusing company, of course – but not giving any thought to making his way to London, particularly not at this time of year. It held too many painful memories, too many sorrowful thoughts, and Samuel did not want to return to it.
And yet, the notion of staying here at his estate for yet another Christmas alone was not a pleasant one.
Sighing, Samuel took a sip of his brandy and closed his eyes, telling himself that he did not need to read the invitation again. Lord Trenton was his dear friend, had come to call and stay on a few occasions over the last couple of years and had always encouraged Samuel to return to society but had never pressed him to do so. What was he to do now with this invitation when part of him desired to attend simply so that he might be in company again while the other part of him wished to continue to hide himself away.
“If it had not been for her, then I would not be in this position.” Muttering to himself, Samuel pushed one hand through his hair, his heart squeezing painfully. Lady Maria was the source of all this pain, the reason that he suffered so. Had she been true to him, as he had been to her, then none of this would have happened. Even though he pushed them away, even though he gritted his teeth and forced his mind away from such thoughts, they lingered all the same until, without warning, the memories came flooding back.
***
“I want to marry you, Maria.” Samuel’s heart felt as though it was so full of love, it might break apart, such was the joy and the happiness within him. “I have already spoken with your father and he has given me his consent.” Taking her hand in his, wishing desperately that they were alone, Samuel pressed her fingers gently. “I am desperately in love with you, Maria. I cannot think of anything but you, my mind and my heart are consumed with love for you.” Keeping his voice low but speaking with as much fervency as he dared, Samuel moved a little closer to her, wondering what it would be like when he would finally be able to steal a kiss from the lady he had come to love so passionately. “I will give you all of my heart, all of myself. We can build a life together, build a family together, make a home together. It is the only thing that I want.” HE closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to keep his composure. This moment meant so much to him for it was to be the moment that would change his life forever. “To know that you love me just as I love you has meant so much to me. I did not think that I would ever be blessed with such a gift and yet, here you are, offering it to me. And such is the wonder, such is the joy in that, Maria, that my only answer, the only thing I can give in return is to offer you my hand.” A whoosh of breath came out from his chest as he pressed her hand again. “My darling. Will you accept the offer of my hand?”
Lady Maria did not answer him immediately, as he had expected. The terrace was quiet, with only two others present, standing near the doorway rather than near them but surely, Samuel considered, it could not be their presence that made the lady hesitate?
“You are most kind.” Lady Maria closed her eyes, a slight tremble in her frame. “Of course, I shall accept. I –”
“You will?” Samuel made to step forward, only for Lady Maria’s hand to go to his chest, holding him back from her. “Forgive me.” Beaming from ear to ear, Samuel settled his hand over hers as it sat on his chest. “I do not think that I have ever been as happy as I am at this moment. I cannot imagine what joy awaits us! I am sure that –”
A sob broke from Lady Maria’s throat.
Samuel’s smile froze in place. “Maria?” He glanced to the other two guests standing near but neither of them looked at them, perhaps too lost in their own conversation as to overhear Lady Maria’s upset. “Whatever is the matter? Has the thought of matrimony overwhelmed you? I know that it is the hope of every young lady and mayhap –”
“I cannot marry you.”
Blinking rapidly, the air pulling from his lungs, Samuel stared back at the lady, waiting for her to explain, waiting for her to say something… but she did not. Instead, all that happened was that yet more tears fell from her eyes, leaving Samuel nothing but confused and uncertain.
“You just accepted me,” he murmured, after a few moments. “But now you say that you cannot? I do not understand.”
Another sob broke from her lips but this time, she stifled it by one hand pressing hard to her mouth. Lifting her gaze to his, tears spilling in her eyes, she gave him a short, sharp shake of the head.
“You cannot marry me.” Samuel’s heart began to twist painfully, his whole being turning icy cold. “Why? I do not understand. You must explain yourself, Maria, please.” He tried to speak calmly but the upset in his chest began to fill his voice, her eyes darting to his and then away again as a single tear fell to her cheek. Samuel, resolving not to say anything more as he waited for her to speak, took his hand from hers and clenched it into a fist, forcing himself to wait. It felt like hours had passed until, managing to compose herself, Lady Maria finally spoke.
“I – I am sorry,” she whispered, her eyes closing tightly as she shuddered visibly. “I cannot marry you, not when my heart belongs to another.”
It was as though the floor had opened up and swallowed Samuel whole. Everything he knew, everything he believed, everything he had built the last few months upon evaporated in an instant, his foundation crumbling.
“I have not been truthful with you – or with anyone,” she continued, each word difficult for her to speak, such was her upset. “Father would never permit me to marry him but I cannot help my heart. He wants to elope and I… I wish to do so.”
“Elope?” Samuel repeated the word, dizziness beginning to attack him as he stumbled back from her, feeling the cool wall behind him, supporting him as he stared at the lady he loved, the lady he now realized he did not know in the least. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head, wordlessly as Samuel pressed one hand hard to his forehead. How could it be? He had been so sure of his love for her, so certain that she returned it – for she had said those very words – but now, it seemed, that had been nothing but a lie.
“How could you do this?” A trembling fury swept over him, stealing away his shock. “How could you pretend?”
“Because my father would not permit me to court him,” came the answer, her eyes now brimming with tears as she looked back at him, coming a little closer as though, somehow, she might be able to convince him of her goodness in all of this. “I cannot help my heart, Samuel! I thought that… I thought I might be able to force my heart to forget him by looking to you instead. I am very fond of you, truly, but – ”
Samuel sliced his hand through the air between them. “Do not even try to pretend that there is any sort of good in this. You may be kind-hearted towards me but that is not what you said to me. You told me, clearly, that you were in love with me, just as I was with you, that your heart was full of nothing but affection and now I discover that this was nothing but a lie?”
Lady Maria closed her eyes, one hand at her mouth as she sobbed.
“How could you do this?” The anger began to fade, leaving nothing but pain, a dark, sharp, stinging pain that grew in intensity with every second that passed. “I thought I had everything and now I have nothing. Nothing aside from the whispers and the gossip that the ton will spread amongst society until I have only shame and mortification left to claim as my own.”
With a sniff, Lady Maria opened her eyes again and looked at him. “I should not have kept up the pretence. I wanted to do just as my father expected but my heart would not permit me.” She sniffed lightly and pulled out her handkerchief, though her gloves were already damp and stained with tears. “I know I do not deserve to ask this, but if you ever cared for me at all, then might you keep this to yourself for even one more day?”
What she was asking him hit Samuel so hard, he lurched to the other side, his eyes going wide.
“I know that I do not deserve this kindness, not after what I have done,” she said again, coming closer to him though her nearness was the very last thing that Samuel wanted. “But please, keep your silence for even one day more.”
“So that you can be taken to Scotland by the gentleman you care for,” Samuel rasped, as Lady Maria nodded, her eyes now wide and staring, fearful that he would refuse. Samuel shook his head, scrubbed one hand down his face and then looked away, hearing her sob. The pain within it tore at his heart, confusing him heavily for surely he ought not to feel any sort of compassion towards her but, instead, ought there not to be only upset and anger?
“It will give me time to prepare to leave London, I suppose,” he muttered, turning bodily away from her. “I do not want to linger in society when they hear that you have eloped with a gentleman that is not I.”
Lady Maria put both hands over her face and let out an enormous sob which, unfortunately, attracted the attention of the two guests nearby. Samuel, sensing that there might well soon be whispers already spoken of about this moment if he did not do something, quickly took Lady Maria’s hand and, though he wanted nothing more than to stride away from her and leave her to her tears, he quickly led her back to the front of the terrace, turning his back to the other two guests in the hope that they might realize that he did not want their company.
“You must compose yourself, else we shall never escape this evening without the ton noticing that something is amiss.” He quickly removed her hand from his arm. “And I shall have to play the fool until we can both take our leave.”
“You are not a fool.”
Her whispered words did nothing to soothe his heart and Samuel scowled, shaking his head and turning his face away from her. “Oh yes, I am,” he answered her, firmly. “And I am certain that everyone within society shall think it of me also, once it is known that the lady I wished to betroth myself to has eloped with another.”
There came a long and heavy silence, punctuated only by the small sniffs from Lady Maria. Samuel gripped the edge of the terrace with both hands, feeling such a wide mix of emotions, he could not separate one from the other. What was he to do? His heart was already torn into pieces, he was sure, but he would have to wear a mask and disguise all that he felt for the rest of the evening, for tomorrow and for as many days thereafter as it took for him to leave London. There would be far too many whispers, too many sidelong glances and perhaps even words in the society newspaper about what had happened for him to accept without concern. No, he would have to leave London… and remain away for some time.
“I want you to know that I am sorry.”
Samuel stiffened. “Your apology makes very little difference to me, Maria,” he said, harshly. “You have broken me completely.” Hearing her sob once more, Samuel remained unmoved, wanting her to understand exactly what it was she had done. “I am in a thousand pieces and I do not think that I will ever be restored again, not for as long as I live.”
***
“But I am restored,” Samuel muttered to himself, as the memory came to an end. It was not a complete healing, of course, for he was still constantly attacked by the memory of what had happened, feeling the pain of her deceit breaking upon him over and over again – but he did not still love her. In that regard, he had been restored. His heart had not broken into a million pieces and remained that way. Instead, he had been putting it back together, piece by piece, until it was entirely his own and held no-one else within it.
And never shall again.
With a scowl, Samuel lifted the brandy glass to his lips and took a long sip. Yes, he considered, he could go to London for the Christmas Season but with no intention nor expectation of pursuing any sort of young lady. The thought of matrimony was now something dark, something he did not want to contemplate but that did not mean that he could not enjoy London, did it? He would simply have to make it clear to society that he had no interest in such a thing and pray that, thereafter, they would accept him just as he stated.
There might still be whispers and rumours about what happened.
Throwing back his brandy, Samuel’s scowl deepened. He had not endured much given that he had practically run from London the very same day as Lady Maria’s elopement had been discovered but he had heard that there had been many of them and that they had endured for some time.
“Then I either suffer them or I remain here,” he told himself, setting his brandy glass down. With a sigh, he picked up the invitation again and read it through, feeling a slight tug of interest which he wanted very much to ignore. Seeing that he could not, Samuel set it back down, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
I am going to London.
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