“She does love you. Lydia is sure of it, and Lydia knows all about love. She has read all the stories. And Charlotte sometimes goes red when she speaks about you. And she was looking at you a lot, especially at the wedding. But she’s going far away anyway.”
“The Stonewood estate is not that far; perhaps we should arrange a visit sooner rather than later,” Alfred suggested.
Mary turned to him.
“Charlotte isn’t staying in Stonewood. She’s visiting the north with Grandmother.”
“What? For how long?” Nathaniel asked, a sudden panic rising within.
“Why should any of this matter at all? It doesn’t matter if Lady Charlotte has feelings for Nathaniel. She’s hardly the type to be a duchess. And I am tired of women who shirk the idea of marriage.” Beatrice looked aghast at her son.
Nathaniel was already moving. Mary, Alfred, Lydia, and Clara were all saying the same thing. It didn’t seem possible for them all to be wrong. And it was one thing for Charlotte to return home, but quite another for her to venture up north.
What if she never came back?
What if this was his only chance?
He was about to step over the threshold of the door when Beatrice’s voice made him stop.
“Nathaniel,” she said sharply, in the same tone she used when he had been a child. He stopped and turned. She marched up to him. “What do you think you are doing?”
Beatrice’s eyes were cold and harsh. For all the joy she felt at Alfred and Mary’s union, she still had a strict, demanding streak that could not be ignored.
“I am going after Charlotte,” he said.
Beatrice adopted a haughty expression. Nathaniel felt torn again. Every moment he spent with his mother allowed Charlotte to get a little farther away.
“Lady Charlotte,” Beatrice emphasized her proper title, “has left our premises. There is no need for you to chase after her. I can’t think of a single reason why you should wish to do anything so reckless. It is quite out of character for you.”
“There is a reason, a very important one. I love her.” He paused before he uttered these three words. When they left his mouth, he could feel his soul soaring. The freedom was intoxicating. He felt as though he could breathe again.
Clara let out a cry of delight. Mary and Alfred leaned into each other and smiled.
Beatrice remained confused.
“Love? What has love got to do with any of this?” she asked indignantly.
“Everything, Mother. I intend to ask her to marry me.”
“You shall do no such thing. She is not suited to be a duchess.”
“But she is suited to be my wife. I cannot think of anyone else in the world I would want to stand beside me.”
“But you can’t… She is outspoken, disrespectful of traditions, and willful.”
A dreamy look drifted across Nathaniel’s eyes.
“Yes, and she is many more things besides,” he replied, finally accepting that the things he used to see as flaws were actually attractive qualities.
Beatrice looked utterly mortified.
“But think of the family. Nathaniel, you have a duty to us, to our history. Do you really think she is the one who can uphold our standards?”
“I think perhaps this family needs new standards. Alfred has shown me the way. We should not feel obliged to put our personal desires aside for duty. It strangles me, Mother. It will only give me a living death if I cannot marry Charlotte. The only duty I care about now is the one to my heart.”
With that, he marched out of the house. Beatrice continued calling his name, but he did not stop. He broke into a run and reached the stables. He pulled Bastion out and mounted him before setting off at a gallop, hoping to close the distance between himself and Charlotte.
If you love me, then let me love you, Charlotte. Everything else be damned.
