“But I have been,” he insisted, highly insulted.
“Perhaps she needs to know that as well,” Lady Harwich offered. “If Charlotte has kept things from you, I am certain that she had her reasons, whether you agree with them or not. But shouldn’t you at least ask and try to understand instead of stomping around and demanding answers from her friends?”
He hadn’t been taken to task like this since he was a child.
Being married to Charlotte was maddening. However, they were correct. “I apologize for the intrusion.” With that, he turned on his heel and left to return home.
Chapter 21
Charlottespenttheremainderof the day and evening, alone in her bed. She had no desire to ever leave it again, nor did she want to read the newssheets.
She also cried often.
She had hoped that by changing herself that Victor would come to desire her enough for an heir. That would never happen now, and she had nobody to blame but herself.
Still, she wouldn’t change anything that she had done. She had to protect herself, and most of all, her home.
Had there been any hope that Victor would have wanted a true marriage, perhaps she may not have gone to such lengths, but Charlotte had known while she took her vows that she needed to secure a real future for herself.
She tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep and then had horrible nightmares of being all alone, and then in her father’s home where Victor deposited her. Of being yelled at for being a failure once again.
By the time she woke, her head hurt, and her stomach was in turmoil.
She could not continue like this. She needed to know what Victor intended to do with her.
Therefore, she dressed in her prettiest gown and made her way to the breakfast room where she sat in silence and alone. She barely took two bites of bread.
Victor never joined her.
Would he ever speak to her again?
Was there any way that she could make him understand?
Instead of sitting there any longer, Charlotte rose and went outside to stroll through the gardens. The fragrance of the late summer roses, which she had at one time enjoyed, did not even lift her mood.
What she should be doing was painting, but she had lost interest in doing so.
She had no interest in anything. How could she when she didn’t know what was to become of her?
“Lady Blackmar.”
She turned to the servant who had interrupted her maudlin thoughts. “Yes.”
“Lord Blackmar would like you to join him in the library.”
Her throat tightened and Charlotte attempted to swallow past the lump. “Thank you.”
It was now time to face her fate.
With a deep breath, Charlotte entered the house, lifted her chin, and walked into the library where Victor sat behind his large desk, fingers steepled in front of his face while he studied her.
She would not cower before him or beg for his forgiveness.
“Why did you only work on the ceiling of the ballroom while I slept?”
Charlotte frowned. This question had not been anticipated. “I did not think it proper that you view me dressed in such a manner.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I do recall telling you that your breeches were quite fetching.”
