“I know how you feel,” came a female voice from the shadows. Charles turned and saw a plain-faced young woman he didn’t recognize. She was wearing a dark rose gown, and when she stepped into the light, he saw that she had dark hair and brown eyes. “Iknow what it is to want something badly and have it slip from your grasp.”
He didn’t know what the woman was speaking of, but she sent him a wry smile. “You should try again.”
“I intend to.” He knew he ought to leave, but something about this woman intrigued him. “Have we met before?”
She shook her head. “I’m not even supposed to be here. But I, too, wished to speak with Amelia Andrews.” Answering his unspoken question, she confessed, “I am Lady Sarah Carlisle.”
He didn’t know the young woman, but he nodded in greeting.
“If you want to marry her, then don’t give up,” she assured him. “Do whatever you must to win her over.” Her face turned pale, and she clutched at the edges of her wrap. “Even if you must resort to desperate means.”
He frowned and ventured, “You sound as if you’re speaking of yourself. What is it that you wanted so badly?”
“My freedom,” she whispered. Her eyes turned distant and she stared back at the ballroom. “I would wed any gentleman inside that room, if it meant escaping my circumstances.” She sent him a faint smile. “Even you.”
Before he could say a word, she reassured him, “Oh, don’t worry. That isn’t why I came to speak with you. I simply wanted to encourage you.”
He studied her, and though no one could call her pretty, there was a strength in this woman, as if she’d endured a great deal. “I wish you luck in finding your freedom, Lady Sarah.”
She nodded, but the bleakness in her expression suggested that she had little hope of achieving it.
“I shall,” she admitted. “And like you, I will set my reservations aside and do what must be done.”
David sat in his wife’s wingback chair, leaning back. In his hands, he held Christine’s latest letter. She had informed him that he was her favorite father (which made him wonder what she wanted, since he was heronlyfather). Then she had gone on to list the attributes of her governess, Miss Grant, whom she believed would make an excellent new mother.
While Miss Grant was a pleasant young woman, David knew that the governess had no knowledge of London society, nor could she teach Christine what she needed to know. When his daughter came of age, he intended for her to have a Season where she would be introduced to titled young men of good families. Christine needed someone who would instruct her in all the rules and good manners.
Someone like Lavinia Harrow or Margaret Andrews. Someone who was sensible and well-bred.
But God help him, all he could think of was Amelia.
“She’s not right for me, Katherine,” he told the ghost of his wife. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost imagine her standing by the hearth. “She’s far too young and impetuous.”
And yet when Amelia had wept in his arms, he’d wanted to tighten his hold and comfort her. He’d wanted to tilt up her innocent lips and teach her what it was to kiss a man. She’d made himfeelagain, and that wasn’t something he wanted.
“She should marry one of the gentlemen with a fortune who can give her children.”
You can give her children, too, he imagined Katherine saying.
“I won’t.” He wasn’t going to even consider it. Not because there was anything wrong with Amelia Andrews. But he didn’t want a woman who would expect him to be a true husband.
The idea of fathering a child upon a woman like Amelia crept into his mind, tormenting him with images of her young body yielding beneath his. She was a sensual creature, and he suspected that, if properly instructed, she would enjoy sharing his bed. And he would enjoyher, which was a betrayal of Katherine’s memory.
He set aside Christine’s letter, wishing for a moment that he’d been buried with his wife. The wasting sickness had drawn her life away, and when he’d lost her, the physician had informed David that she’d been with child. A son, as it turned out.
Even after all these years, he wondered why she hadn’t told him until the very end. Perhaps it was because the unexpected pregnancy had shortened what little time Katherine had left. But there had been peace upon her face when she’d died. The doctor showed him the son she’d miscarried in the last moments, and the child had been barely larger than David’s palm.
The aching inside his heart hadn’t diminished, not at all. No words or any amount of time would heal the wounds still haunting him.
He reached for another folded paper, the list Amelia had drawn up for him. He’d already crossed out several names. Miss Harrow was still a strong candidate, but she seemed to lack confidence in herself. And David knew a certain eleven-year-old girl who would take advantage of that. More and more, he was beginning to wonder if it was a good idea to marry anyone at all.
You must, for our daughter’s sake, he could imagine Katherine saying.
He stared at all the names and realized that Margaret Andrews was the one person on the list whodidknow all the rules of society. She was a walking book of etiquette. And although there was not a single spark of romantic interest, perhaps she was beyond those needs now. He ought to speak frankly with her and ask what shewanted. If she desired a marriage based upon friendship, and if she was willing to become a mother and a role model for Christine, then they could begin arranging a betrothal. Marrying a woman like Margaret would be no betrayal at all to Katherine, for he felt nothing toward her.
But she’s in love with someone else, Katherine’s ghost warned. He’d witnessed that for himself, when she’d slipped away to meet with Cain Sinclair. Would Margaret betray him, if they were to wed?
He wasn’t certain. However, Miss Andrews had few options, since she’d had several seasons and only one marriage offer. If she’d intended to wed the Highlander, undoubtedly, she’d have done so earlier.
