Perhaps dinner could be moved up an hour, or two. Hopefully Victor wouldn’t mind. In the meantime, Cook had made cakes earlier. A few bites should quiet her stomach.
Charlotte paused in the entry on the way to the kitchen. A small tray held the post. She picked up the letters and made her way to Victor and the library. There were three letters for him and one for her—from her father. She really didn’t need to read it to know the contents. He wrote to her at least every fortnight to demand what she was doing about her marriage. At least the last letter hadn’t reprimanded for not keeping her husband at home. Obviously, Father had read the gossip sheets and knew Victor had returned. How anyone knew where Victor went was beyond her. It was one thing to track the comings and goings of a peer in London, but there was nobody in Willanton who cared to report gossip. Maybe it was leaked by his family, a London servant or his man of business.
Charlotte tore the seal and read. As she suspected, he was demanding to know when he could expect his future titled grandchild to enter the world. Not once had he ever asked about her life, her home, if she had friends or if she was even happy. He simply demanded that she do her duty and get with child as soon as possible.
She tossed it in the waste receptacle by Victor’s desk as she handed him the letters that had arrived for him.
Settling into the seat across from Victor, she took a biscuit from a plate while he opened his letters.
“Bloody hell.” Victor threw the letter on his desk.
“What is wrong?” She had rarely heard Victor curse.
“The reservoir dam was damaged and now the fields are flooded. The crops are ruined.” He fell back in his chair and pushed his fingers through his hair. “There was also a fire in the stables, but none of the servants or horses were injured.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
He looked up and met her eyes. “I need to return to Thornhill Park to assess the damage and make certain that repairs are proceeding as they should.”
She hated that he had to leave, but Victor couldn’t ignore the problems at his family estate.
“Come with me.”
“What?” She couldn’t help the surprised squeak in her voice.
“Come with me. You have never been to our estate in Shropshire.”
“Who will be there?” she asked hesitantly.
Victor shrugged. “My mother and possibly Maria and her husband since they have taken up residence to be with Mother. Marcus remains in Canada.”
Marcus was the one sibling that she had not yet met because he was in the military.
Charlotte stared at the biscuit, crumbs decorating her skirt, as her stomach tightened at the thought of seeing his mother again. It was likely little had changed since they had last seen one another. Then there was Maria. Could she endure being in a house with her again, despite how large? And, if it got too uncomfortable, Charlotte wouldn’t even be able to escape.
“Your hesitation is your answer.”
Charlotte sighed. “If you want me to travel with you, I will be happy to do so.”
A smile pulled at his lips. “Happy?”
“The traveling part would be nice.”
He nodded his head. “I do not want to see my family any more than you do.”
“I will go.”
“No. I will not make you endure them.”
Despite the unpleasant relations, she didn’t want to be parted from Victor. Not yet. “I will go.”
“As much as I want you with me, it is unfair to you.”
“I am your wife.”
“I care about you too much to make you put up with them.” He grabbed a sheet of parchment and dipped the quill in the ink. “I will travel there, take care of the fields, stables and whatever other mess is waiting and return as quickly as possible.”
Charlotte could hardly concentrate on any of his words after he said he cared about her. She suspected he did and they got along well, yet it was nice hearing the words from his lips. Her stomach also unclenched knowing she could remain behind. “How long do you think it might take?”
