“Charity, please, listen to me.” Edith took the carafe out of her grasp, but she was a little too late, for Charity was already well on her way to downing her fifth glass of the night. “Nothing can be done now to stop the wedding tomorrow. You will marry the baron.”
“How kind of you, sister.”
“This is not my doing. It is our father’s doing. I am simply pointing out the practicalities of the situation,” Edith said in a rush. “How this family appears to others is very important. Youmust hold your head high tomorrow and be respected. Only if you are the respected wife of Baron Tynefield can we hope to gain from his connections.”
Charity nearly dropped the glass in amazement.
“What happened to the sister who used to sneak me hot chocolate when father denied it to me, believing wrongly that it made my blindness worse?” she asked in a quiet tone. “What happened to her, Edith?”
She is not here anymore.
And there was nothing to be done about it. Edith had her own life now, and the more time Charity spent apart from her, the more she realized what she was to Edith. Precisely what she had been all those years to Papa. She was a complication in the family, being blind, and living the sheltered life they insisted she must. They didn’t trust her to go out alone, and because of it, she was the shame of the family.
“This is not the time for such a discussion.” Edith’s voice faded, showing she was putting distance between them again. “Even Kenneth agrees with the rest of us that this is the best course of action.”
“Brother? The man who couldn’t even bring himself to come to your party and has gone off to his club instead?”
“He is doing good business.”
“Is he?” Charity was scarcely convinced of it. As she was blind, her brother Kenneth thought her dumb too. He must have thought she never noticed the rustling of papers and his curses as he checked the accounts of the club, nor the demanding messengers who occasionally turned up at the door, talking about calling in various debts.
I do not have such confidence in Kenneth.
“Charity, please,” Edith’s voice softened once more. “We do not all have a choice in life who we marry. We must simply make the most of it.”
“I could appreciate such a practical sentiment.” Charity paused long enough to take a gulp of her wine. “Had you not yourself married for love.”
The heavy thud on the other side of the room suggested Edith had sat sharply down in her chair.
“We are not all so fortunate.”
She supposed Edith meant the words to be kind, but they weren’t. They suggested that Charity was just an unlucky soul, not good enough to be one of the fortunate ones.
Before Charity could think what to say next, the door opened, the sound unmistakable.
“What’s going on up here?” At her father’s voice, Charity continued to sip her wine, having no inclination to answer him.
“Charity is in her cups,” Edith said with a heavy sigh. “What’s more, she is refusing to come downstairs.”
“What?” the voice shook with anger.
Charity stood tall, lifting her chin that inch higher. In the past, she might have quelled at the voice, but she wouldn’t anymore. If she showed the slightest hint of hesitation or weakness now, she knew tomorrow she’d find herself at the altar, beside a man she detested, facing a life of imprisonment.
I will find a better life. I have to.
“This is ridiculous,” Duncan Harris, the Earl of Holmwood’s voice boomed across the room. “Charity, you will come downstairsat once.”
“Do not raise your voice so loud, Father. It will compete with the pleasant violin music Edith has arranged downstairs. What would your guests think if they heard you?”
“Enough!” He marched toward her, his boots striking the heavy floorboards. “No more drinking.” He snatched the glass from her hand. She felt the cool liquid drip onto her fingers but made no effort to wipe it away. She simply allowed the wine to trickle down her palm. “You will do as I say, Charity. Is that understood?”
“You have told me the same thing my whole life,” she muttered, wishing to argue more and more.
Why was it that Edith and Kenneth hadn’t had to follow his orders nearly as much as she had to? The envy had been there, deep within her gut, ever since she had gone blind at the age of eight. What started as mollycoddling became an act to keep her imprisoned out of shame. Edith and Kenneth were free, as she longed to be.
“Then it is about time you started listening. You will stop being childish and come downstairs with me this instant. Move toward that door, for I know you know where it is. Take a step. Now. Or brace yourself for the consequences,” Duncan’s voice growled in fury.
Slowly, Charity folded her arms, conveniently brushing some of the claret from her hand onto her gown. She showed no intention of taking a step anywhere.
