For a brief moment, he had seemed almost human, showing a hint of vulnerability. But the walls around his heart had been closed swiftly. She walked out of the shelter with her fingers pressed to her lips, a dazed look on her face.
She staggered back to the others, finding Edmund, Lydia, and Honoria admiring a church.
“Ah, dear sister, where are the others?” Edmund asked.
“I must have gotten lost,” Charlotte said. She looked toward the prim and proper Honoria, guilt swimming in her heart. She put her hand to her head.
“I’m feeling quite faint. When the others return, would you mind if we returned to the estate?” she asked.
So many questions swam around her mind, but the answers did not come easily. It wasn’t as though she could ask anyone for their wisdom either. Nathaniel had cursed her with something that could never be.
Was it a sign of his true feelings, or was this just revenge for the way she had wrong-footed him before?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nathaniel splashed cold water on his face as soon as he returned to the estate. He looked at himself in the mirror, wondering what kind of monster he was turning into. He had quite forgotten himself with Charlotte, but at the moment, it had felt incredibly right.
Her question was potent.
When was the last time anyone had asked about him? When was the last time anyone had thought of his well-being?
As the eldest son, he had been thrust into a position of responsibility from a young age. His father expected him to learn from experience, and so his childhood had been atypical. Perhaps that was one reason why he had been bothered by Clara at first. Mary allowed her to be a child, and he was envious of it.
It wasn’t as though he was purely blaming other people, either. He did not look after his own well-being. He didn’tprotect himself. All of his individual aspirations and hopes were subsumed beneath those of the title he possessed. Every thought he had was about the good of his family.
Duty and honor weighed heavily on his shoulders.
And he had just risked it all for Charlotte.
For a kiss.
Nathaniel leaned forward and clamped his eyes shut. There was a gnawing ache in his head and a pain in his chest.
Everything was falling apart.
He needed to hold it together.
He needed to be strong.
He opened his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“You are the Duke of Winthrop. Act like it,” he muttered. The voice of his father reverberated through his own words, and the steely glare that stared back at him was akin to the one his father had directed at him.
He needed to be better than this.
The night of the ball arrived. Nathaniel dressed in his finest tunic. His boots were polished. Not a hair was out of place. Lively sounds bubbled through the estate as the guests arrived. Nathaniel nodded to everyone he passed, graciously welcoming them.
His furtive gaze flitted across the main hall where most people were gathered. Everyone blended into a sea of faces. He was searching for one, despite his reservations about being around her. At least nothing improper would happen here.
Not with so many people around.
There were moments when he caught a glimpse of someone who had the same shade of hair as Charlotte. His heart quickened, but when they turned, he was filled with disappointment. The twitching smile fell from his face.
One more conversation. That was all he wanted. A few more words to put everything to rest.
Yet she seemed invisible.
“Your Grace, I took the liberty of bringing you a drink,” Honoria said, appearing as if from nowhere.
