“I do,” she said. “A reward for their hard work and bravery during the flooding.”
“That’s lovely, Charlotte,” her mother said, reaching out to take her hand. “So you’ll go with Ewan, then?”
Charlotte shifted and glanced at him. His mouth was now tight, and tension all but coursed through him. “I’d like to,” she said softly.
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Matthew chimed in, and elbowed Baldwin. “Don’t you?”
Charlotte’s brother seemed the least keen on the idea. He looked not at her, but at Ewan. “If Ewan would like her company.”
“Of course he’d like her company,” Mary said with a laugh. “It’s settled then. You two go out and make your gifts and when you return I think a game of whist will be in order.”
Charlotte looked at Ewan. “May I come with you?” she signed. “Don’t say yes just because they’re pushing you to do so.”
He tilted his head and swiftly signed, “I want you to come. No one has pushed me to do anything.”
“How do you remember all the signs?” the Duchess of Sheffield laughed as she got up and began stacking the plates from breakfast.
“It’s easy. There are signs for each letter and also some shortcuts for words we often use.”
Her mother shook her head. “That must be nearly a hundred signs.”
Charlotte shrugged. “We recall thousands of words. What are a few little turns of the hand?” She glanced at Ewan. “I’ll fetch my wrap and we can go.”
He nodded and she slipped from the room, her heart throbbing. Once again they’d be alone. Once again, they would be tested. And once again, she felt the man she loved pulling away from her.
And this time, if he succeeded, she knew she’d have to let him go forever.
Ewan couldn’t keep his eyes off Charlotte. It was impossible not to stare at her when her face was lit with laughter and she was surrounded by sword- and dolly-wielding children.
“You’re too kind, Your Grace,” one of the ladies, Mrs. Nickel, said to him, and he shook his head and forced himself to focus. His tenants had finished collecting their Boxing Day gifts. Baskets of food, bolts of fabric, and bags filled with coins had been passed around to bright, happy faces.
He shrugged and patted her arm as a response, hoping it would turn her away. He was uncomfortable with the praise. Of course, Mrs. Nickel was not deterred.
“It is such a blessing that you brought Lady Portsmith to us,” she continued. “Everyone just loves her. She is the kindest lady I have ever met.”
Ewan swallowed and let his gaze slide to Charlotte once more. She was talking to Mrs. Boyd now, totally engaged with the other woman, her face expressive and open and yes, so very kind. He nodded slowly in answer to his tenant’s comment.
“My husband looks to be motioning for me now,” she said. “Excuse me.”
Ewan shook off his distraction and nodded again, forcing himself to smile at her as she left him alone. His attentions turned once more to Charlotte. She had crouched down and was adjusting the dress on one of the little girls’ dolls. The child stared at her like she was a princess or a goddess.
Of course, Charlotte was both, and as he watched her with the little girl, his heart hurt. A good hurt and a bad hurt mixed together, expanding his chest. He heard his father’s voice echoing in his mind, saying all the worst things he’d ever said.Idiot. Worthless. Should have never been born. Good for nothing and no one.
But he also heard his aunt’s words. His uncle’s. His cousin’s. His friends’. And hers. Always hers. Charlotte telling him she loved him. Charlotte in all her tiny kindnesses and smiles and laughter over the years, showing him the same. He wanted the future she represented, with all his heart. He wanted it and now, staring at her as she ruffled the little girl’s hair, he leaned forward, almost as if he could take it.
She straightened up and glanced his way. Their eyes met and after a beat her lips parted. She looked confused, like she could read his expression and wasn’t certain of it.
Of course, she probably could. Who knew him better, after all, than the woman who had all but forcibly wound her way into his life? His barriers meant nothing to her, like she had been born to knock them down. When he pushed her away, she came back, stronger and more determined than ever.
How could he not love her for that independence and stubbornness? For that kindness and calm faith? For the fact that she loved him, all of him, no matter what?
She moved toward him, like an angel gliding from heaven, and into his space. With a smile, she took his hand. Her fingers wound through his and she looked up at him.
“Are you well?” she whispered. “You have a strange look on your face.”
He nodded slowly. Oh yes, he was well. He had never been so well in his entire life. Because he knew exactly what he was going to do. Not in this moment, with people who were practically strangers looking on. Not even the moment he got home and they were surrounded by family and friends.
But later, tonight, he was going to come to this woman, this remarkable woman, and surrender all he was and all he had to her. He was going to ask her to marry him, and he already knew what her answer was.
