I wish very much to see your pretty face and what the lack of sunlight has done for your complexion. With the recent loss of Mr. Bentford’s wife, he and his children have been recovering from their grief. The home has finally begun to rise from its state of dull, dreary sadness. We still wear black, but I find the color quite becomes me.
In much happier news, my cousin has made a business investment with an industrialist and is set to make thousands. Is that not delightful news? Please take comfort in knowing that your mother is happy. I look forward to your next correspondence and your improved penmanship.
Sincerely yours,
Mama
I set the letter down and put my forehead in my bent arm. Why had I lied to her in my last letter? I should have just told her that Lord Trowbridge was not interested in courting me.
Feeling far too weak and unmotivated to attempt a reply, I set her letter aside, making a note in my mind to answer later—even if my penmanship was horrendous. Once things were settled between Clara and Lord Trowbridge, we could write to Mama with the good news. I imagined she would be surprised but satisfied with the engagement and come here for the wedding. Then she would see how terrible the North truly was, and take me home with her to Hampshire. I could then forget this town and everyone in it. I could reclaim my old life, hidingmy deformity and finding a husband with even more to offer than Lord Trowbridge. Mama would approve of me again.
I would be much happier.
With determination in my movements, I picked up her letter and walked upstairs to my room, tucking it inside the small drawer in my writing desk. I paused, seeing James’s love letter lying flat inside. My fingers hovered above it, but I slammed the drawer shut before I could touch it.
The rest of the day I deviated from my normal schedule, tidying the house for one short hour before settling on the sofa with a book I had found in Clara’s room. It was a romantic, adventurous tale, and I believed none of it. But even so, I ended up grinning as I closed the final page. How many hours had passed? I could hardly believe it had been all day.
I heard the front door open suddenly, and Clara’s head of dark hair came into view. With a jolt of panic, I tossed the book aside more forcefully than I intended. It crashed against the far wall. I jerked my gaze to Clara, hoping she hadn’t noticed.
She gasped, eyes wide. “You were reading a novel?”
“I—” my gaze flickered to the glass of water I had placed on the small tea table. “I was using it as a coaster.” I bit my lip, remembering the time James had teased me about using a book as a coaster when I had accused him of being illiterate.
“Oh, I see.” She cast me a knowing smile. “But was the coaster full of romantic gentlemen and happy endings?”
I felt close to bursting and suddenly couldn’t contain it. I had thoroughly enjoyed the book. I sighed. “Yes.”
She sat down beside me and squealed. “You understand now why I love to read these stories.”
I hated to admit it, but I did. “Don’t be mistaken, Clara. I will not become a silly romantic because of it.”
“Of course not. I would never expect such a thing from you.” She smiled again.
A subject change was in order. “You had a good day, I trust?”
Her smile faded slightly and her shoulders slumped. She hesitated.
I reached forward and put my hand on her arm. “What’s the matter?”
“Thomas has been very distant these last several days. I—I don’t know what I have done.” Her voice was soft and full of hurt.
My heart dropped as I remembered my last conversation with James. I gasped. Had James turned Lord Trowbridge against Clara? It was the only plausible reason he would be avoiding her.
“What is it?” Clara’s eyes rounded.
“You have done nothing,” I assured her with a scowl. “It was James. I told him the truth about why we came here. I tried to assure him that you had true feelings for his brother but…” My mind spun. I refused to allow Clara to be hurt again because of me. She deserved every happiness. “It is my fault. I should not have told him. What reason have I given him to believe my explanation? Of course he took his concerns about fortune hunting to Lord Trowbridge.”
Clara sniffled a little. “I cannot lose him, Charlotte. I—I think I love him.”
“I know. I will speak to James about it as soon as I can. Not to worry. We will see this straightened out.” Anger bubbled close to the surface of my skin. Was James willing to destroy the happiness of his own brother? Didn’t he know that what was between them was real? How could he doubt it? Even as the ultimate doubter of love, I believed it.
Nervousness fluttered in my stomach at the thought of approaching James with the very topic we had argued over the last time we had met. But this was not about me. This was about the happiness of my sister.
First thing tomorrow I would find him and do something entirely out of character: I was going to defend love.
Chapter Twenty
“Pray you now,
