A bitter feeling rose in the back of her throat. Hiding the truth made it seem as though it was something to be ashamed of, but there was no doubt in her mind now that he clung to propriety. She managed to walk away, but with every step, her feet grew heavier.
She waited for him to call her name again, for him to run after her and pull her back, to kiss her once again, and this time never stop.
But she waited in vain. She waited all the way to her room, but then she closed the door, and she knew that it was never going to happen. She packed her things. They became stained with tears. It proved impossible to stop them from falling.
Soon enough, she would be away from here, but she would never be the same again. Nathaniel had changed her forever.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The morning was bright, but a gloom lingered over Nathaniel’s heart. His movements were stilted, his muscles leaden. Every step was a lurch, and his breakfast had tasted bland. Even Brutus and Hector’s antics had not been enough to amuse him.
It was almost as if he were in mourning.
He longed to take Bastion for a ride, but that would have to wait. Duty required him to see the Hartley family off. A wry smile crossed his face. Duty had been an anchor, a compass to guide his actions, but now it seemed like a brutal weapon that was slashing his heart to ribbons. He possessed no defense against it.
A nearby clock chimed.
It was time—time to say farewell to the woman who would always haunt him.
Everyone else was already there. Clara was practically in tears, hugging Charlotte tightly. For once, he felt exactly as Clara did, but of course, he could not display his emotions so openly.
“…and you must come to our estate once I return. We shall host you and have a splendid time,” Agatha said, kissing Beatrice on both cheeks.
“Yes, we must. We shall be seeing a lot of each other in the future,” Beatrice replied. Agatha beamed.
“Well, Your Grace, it all comes to an end. Thank you for your hospitality, and as my grandmother suggested, our estate is always open to you. There will always be a bottle of port waiting,” Edmund said with a half-smile, thrusting out his hand.
Nathaniel took it and nodded his head in response. After what Charlotte revealed about her parents, he studied Edmund a little more closely than before. There was something hidden in his eyes, and Nathaniel wondered if he had judged Edmund too harshly.
Charlotte and Lydia came to bid farewell too. They both curtsied before him. His throat felt swollen. Unspoken words lodged in his mouth, but what was the use now? It was far too late.
His gaze lingered on Charlotte, watching as she disappeared into the carriage. The last thing he saw was the hem of her gown sweeping out of sight. He committed it to memory, along with her smile, her laugh, her kiss. He would never experience these things again, but he was not willing to forget them.
Edmund was the last to enter the carriage. He spent a long time speaking to Alfred and Mary before finally bidding his last farewell. The carriage door closed and began to trundle across the courtyard, creaking and swaying, disappearing between the gates.
Nathaniel blinked slowly, unused to the stinging tears that appeared. He quickly excused himself and returned to the house.
He heard footsteps following him.
“I thought you were going to stop her,” Mary said. Clara was beside her. Alfred and Beatrice were just a few steps behind.
“To whom do you refer?” Nathaniel replied in a dry, broken tone.
“I am your sister now, Your Grace. There’s no need to be coy with me. I can tell that you are in love. It takes one who knows love to recognize it in others.”
“Preposterous,” Nathaniel forced a laugh, but it lacked the ring of truth.
“What is this talk?” Beatrice asked, concern and confusion dancing across her face.
“I think perhaps we should leave, Mother,” Alfred said, attempting to pull Beatrice away. However, Beatrice dug her heels into the floor and remained unmoved.
“I would like to know who is in love with whom,” Beatrice demanded.
“Nobody, Mother. This is all just a big misunderstanding.” Nathaniel then turned back to Mary. “Charlotte doesn’t love me. She loves her research. She hopes to honor her parents, which is a sentiment I can respect. She has chosen her path in life. It is a solitary one.”
“Charlotte… love?” Beatrice stammered, flabbergasted by Nathaniel’s comment.
“Charlotte claims to know her own mind, but she doesn’t always know what’s best for her,” Mary replied, an imploring look in her eyes. Nathaniel’s cheeks began to turn crimson as his personal affairs were being shared. He was about to turn away and seek out Bastion, but Clara spoke before he had a chance to.
