Charlotte quickly introduced Callie and the two of them followed Tilly up the stairs.
How soon would Victor arrive?
With her father gone, he no longer had a need for her. As her husband, anything she owned was his, with the exception of the funds that she had set aside and kept in her control.
And now that she had lost their child, nothing tied him to her any longer.
Had he not returned to Willanton, would he have even bothered after her father died? Would he have sought an annulment?
Charlotte didn’t want to wonder what he might do, but with each step she took up the stairs, down the corridor and into the chamber of her childhood, her father’s words echoed in her head that she was a failure, a disappointment and that nobody would want her if not for her being rich.
She had tried desperately to silence that voice over the years, but she’d heard it her entire life and four years away had not lessened the insecurity as much as she had hoped.
Not even Victor’s attentiveness and friendship could silence what she had always believed of herself.
She hated this insecurity. Hated it! And as much as she wished to smother it, she could not. While she was proud of her accomplishments and who she had become, and even confident in her abilities, those reminders of how much of a disappointment she’d been came to the surface whenever she looked in the mirror because some things simply could not be changed. The deep seated feelings of failure had then doubled with the loss of the babe.
“Was there a funeral?” Her father had died a sennight ago and Charlotte assumed that he had been buried. At least she hoped that he had.
“Yes,” Tilly answered. “Poorly attended, but we assumed you would not want us to wait for you.”
“You were right to see that it was done.”
“We buried him next to your mother.”
“Perhaps I will visit his grave,” Charlotte answered absently as she sank onto the bed, though she had no desire to pay her respects.
“Would you care for refreshments?” Tilly asked. “As soon as you arrived, Cook set to preparing something special for dinner.”
“That is not necessary.” Her stomach churned. She had not had an appetite since her loss.
“I am certain that it is. We have been waiting for you to come home.” Tilly turned to Callie. “Let me show you around and then you can get Lady Blackmar settled.”
Home! This hadn’t been her home in four years, and it would never feel like home. Wisteria House would forever be where she belonged.
As tired as she was from the travel, Charlotte also knew that she would not be able to rest until she had spoken to Mr. Ward. The question that remained, however, was if the solicitor would wait for Victor to arrive or if he would speak with her directly.
Regardless, Charlotte was also certain that there were matters that needed attention since her father had left this world a sennight ago.
An oppressive weight settled upon her when she entered the library—her father’s domain when he lived. His large desk loomed, and she approached slowly as she pushed back the anxiety that had engulfed her each time she’d been called to stand before it.
Charlotte did her best to push away the ghosts and intimidation because the before no longer mattered. Her father was gone, and he could no longer take her to task for her failings.
He may not have appreciated her, but Charlotte was happy with who she had become once she was free of here. She loved her home, and she had friends who appreciated her. And, she had Victor. At least she had him for now.
Her father had been wrong about her, and she must remember that.
With a deep breath, she took a step behind the desk, the first time that she had ever done so, then sank into the large, worn leather chair that had been his.
She was here and he wasn’t. She had the power, he had none.
Until Victor arrived, all that was before her now belonged to Charlotte.
The post was stacked in the center of the desk having piled up since his death. So much correspondence!
Tilly entered and first placed the tea service on the corner of the desk then another maid produced a plate with biscuits, fruit, and small sandwiches. “Will there be anything else, Lady Blackmar.”
Charlotte eyed the sandwiches, certain that she could not take a single bite.
