Chapter Thirty-Five
The estate looked less imposing and formidable than it had upon their arrival. It faded into the distance now. The carriage trundled along the road, flanked by woodlands. During their journey toward the estate, Charlotte had been filled with anxiety.
She couldn’t say that things were all that different during the return journey.
Agatha was giving a running commentary about all they had experienced. Edmund had a thoughtful look on his face while Lydia listened intently to Agatha.
Charlotte stared out of the carriage, thinking about what might have been and what never could be.
“Penny for your thoughts, sister?” Edmund asked.
“They are worth more than that,” she replied.
Edmund smirked.
“Are you sure you wish to travel to our northern estate? It sounds awfully boring.”
“It shall be a nice change of pace from recent events. The wedding was a wonderful distraction, but it is time to return to what matters most. But what of you, Edmund? Has the wedding stirred up any feelings, or are you going to fall into the same habits?”
“There’s no reason to change something that works perfectly well.”
Charlotte assumed this was meant to be a joke, but there was something different about Edmund. When he entered the carriage, his smile had fallen, and it was yet to return.
Eventually, everyone fell silent, and Agatha fell asleep. There was a lull in conversation, and each of the siblings was lost in their own thoughts. Occasionally, Charlotte caught Lydia looking at her. It wasn’t the outcome Lydia wanted, but perhaps this would be a good teaching moment for her.
Real life was nothing like her stories. The sooner she realized that, the better off she would be.
Then, out of nowhere, the sound of thunder shattered the silence. Charlotte glanced outside and saw no signs of a storm. The air was crisp and clear.
“Could it be bandits?” Lydia whispered.
“Everyone, remain calm. If it is, they want our belongings, not us,” Edmund said, reaching across to take Lydia’s hand. The carriage stopped abruptly, which shook Agatha awake.
“Oh, are we home already? That was quick,” she said.
“Grandmother, shush,” Edmund said, placing a finger in front of his mouth. A shadow passed outside. Muffled voices could be heard. The door was flung open. Lydia cried in horror, turning her face lest she be forced to look upon the malevolent expression of a bandit.
But it wasn’t a bandit who stood before them.
“Nathaniel?” Charlotte gasped.
His cheeks were rosy. His brow glistened with sweat. He was panting heavily.
His eyes were fixed on her.
“Would you mind stepping out of the carriage, Lady Hartley?” he asked. His voice was a rasp. Charlotte remained motionless for a few moments before her heart lurched and thrust her into action. With Edmund’s help, she alighted from the carriage and stood before Nathaniel. Bastion was behind the carriage, waiting for his master.
Charlotte searched his face for some meaning, but she could not decipher anything.
“Why are you here? Is there something wrong with Mary or with Clara?”
Panic rose in Charlotte’s voice. Edmund, Agatha, and Lydia all adjusted their positions in the carriage to peer outside.
“No, but there is something wrong with me,” he began. “Ever since we met, I have felt unsettled, and the root cause is you. You are ill-mannered, and you seem determined to go against the very definition of a lady.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure what she expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t this. Indignation flared on her face like a rising flame.
“You came all this way just to tell me this? There is indeed something wrong with you, Your Grace, but I have nothing to do with it. Perhaps you should seek the counsel of a physician.”
