I was miserable.
I hated hiding the truth, wearing that stuffed glove day after day, not because I hated the sight of my hand, but because Mama did. Every time she looked at me, her eyes flickered to that glove, glinting with disapproval. I felt choked and trapped by it, and I didn’t know how to escape. I doubted I ever would.
Dinner came at its usual time, and I wore my brown dress with the ivory ribbons. Mr. Webb’s smile faltered when he saw my dress, and when he cleared his throat he sounded frustrated. We hardly spoke at all throughout the meal, and I could feel Mama’s eyes on me the entire time, digging a hole into the side of my face.
When the dishes were cleared away and the women were preparing to move to the drawing room, Mr. Webb stood. His throat bobbed with a swallow. “I would like to request a private conversation with Miss Lyons.”
Mama’s eyes rounded, but returned to normal within a second. “Oh, yes. Of course.” She looked as if it took all her concentration not to leap from her chair and drag Louisa and Eleanor from the room by their ears. “Stepdaughters. Mr. Bentford.” She stood and they followed her from the room, a quiet clattering of chairs and muffled footsteps.
I stood too fast, panic throbbing through my veins. I knew what he was going to say. “Mr. Webb, I?—”
“Miss Charlotte Lyons, I cannot express to you the extent of my feelings.” He stepped close to me. “I find you enchanting, and I expect that I never should grow tired of gazing upon you.”
My stomach lurched.
“I believe that it is much to your advantage and mine, if you agree to be my wife.” His face broke into a smile, as if his explanation and proposal had been horribly romantic rather than an equation. “Marry me, Charlotte. I daresay we shall make a lovely couple.”
My mind spun. This was not right. Was this really what I had always dreamed of? Mr. Webb was growing wealthier by the day. I had seen his estate, and it was beautiful beyond words. He would eventually be a viscount, and I could be a viscountess. All my dreams were laid out in front of me, gazing through a pair of muddy eyes, but they appeared in this moment as nothing more than a trap, a ruse, a thorn disguised as a rose. I didn’t want this. I was shaking my head now, and the smile on Mr. Webb’s face was fading.
“Do you really know me at all?” I asked, my voice hard and fast.
His brow wrinkled. “Of course! Ihavebeen courting you these last three months.”
I shook my head again and stepped away from him.
“But we shall come to know one another even better in time. We have years to be together!”
The thought of spending years with Mr. Webb, seeing his face every day, and always wondering what it would have been like if I had stayed in Craster…I couldn’t bear it. The walls of the room seemed to be closing in, and I could hardly breathe. “You are a good man, Mr. Webb. And I believe you could make someone very happy, but that woman is not me.”
“Please, Charlotte! Why do you refuse me?”
“Why do you want to marry me?”
He was silent. “Because I have never seen a woman more beautiful, more lovely, more magnificent?—”
I stopped him. “That is the problem. One day I will be old and ugly, and you will wish you had never met me.”
“That is not true,” he said in a low voice. “You are perfection.”
Releasing a sigh of frustration, I tore my glove away from my right hand and threw it to the ground. I lifted my hand up to where he could see it. His eyes flew open and he stumbled back.
“Does this change your mind?” I didn’t look away from his face, even as much as it hurt me to see the disgust in his eyes.
“What—how?” he stammered. It was all he could manage to say.
“I didn’t show you before because I knew what you would think. These pretenses were not acceptable and I do apologize. But even so, my answer remains the same. I will not marry you. And if my suspicions prove correct, you won’t wish to marry me now either.” I watched as his gaze slid over my hand and back to my face. His expression was contorted in quiet shock and a bit of guilt. He didn’t speak.
“Be careful, Mr. Webb. You will be hunted for your fortune and there are many women like me who might have said yes just now.” I walked backward toward the door and paused in the open doorway. “Do take care.”
He nodded and I saw him slump down in his seat the moment I closed the door behind me.
I took a breath to calm myself. I hadn’t noticed how my legs were quaking and how fast my heart was beating. It was over. There was no way to recover now. I stared at the puckered scars on my hand pressed against the wall. What had I done?
“Charlotte!”
I turned at the sound of Mama’s voice.
“Charlotte!” Her gaze landed on my uncovered hand. An eerie stillness settled on her face. “You have made a dreadful mistake.”
