She found she had no tolerance for his smug grin.
He often got under her skin, and in this moment, she wanted to lambaste him for never noticing any of her feelings, any of her hurt.
Knowing Alex had returned only to use her family’s land, to use her, she suddenly hated the idea of staying in Northumberland. Of being anywhere near Alnwick and Alexander Jenkins. She drew in a breath and attempted a calm voice. “You will be pleased to hear that I am eager and willing to go to London. I was just making my way to my rooms to instruct the maids on which gowns to pack. I say we leave as soon as possible.”
Christopher raised triumphant eyebrows. “Did I hear you correctly? I am not going to have to beg you or take you kicking and screaming? I am pleased I got through to you.”
How infuriating that he assumed she had changed her mind because of him. Nothing about the Season or London or having her brother hunting for a husband for her excited her. “If you continue to gloat, I shall reconsider.”
His folded arms lifted to shield himself. “Oh no. Forgive me. I will say no more. Shall we agree to leave the day after next, at first light?”
“Yes. Will Walter be coming with us?”
Christopher shook his head. “You know Mother and Father think there’s no need for him to go to Town. He will stay here with his nurse and his tutor.”
She nodded, suddenly feeling powerless. She wished she could change his mind and their parents’ directives, but at present she knew arguing was futile. The confrontation she’d already had today had made her weak. Feigning confidence, however, she carried herself to the top of the stairs and out of Christopher’s view. But when the banister ran out and she found herself alone, she wilted against the papered walls.
The dim light from the glass lamp above her cast shadows on the wall that seemed to mirror her vacillating sentiments. She was doing what her brother wished. What her father and mother wished for her, too, as they had indicated in their letters from India. She was doing what was expected of her. That should give her assurance. It was important to honor the wishes of her family. Marrying well was more than expected of her, and London was the place to find husbands.
The shape of the shadow from the flame shifted just enough to remind her of Alex’s profile for one fleeting moment. With a crashing, tightening sensation in her chest, she realized what she had lost today. Somewhere inside of her she’d always hoped Alex would be in her future. Northumberland was linked to him and he to Northumberland. Now that she knew he was so near and that he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was, she felt a part of her girlish dreams extinguish.
She would go to Town. She’d pretend to be everything that was expected of her and make her family proud. With any luck, she’d get to see her other two brothers, Joseph and George, on their break from Harrow, at least. And maybe she’d get to see her old friend Lydia Croftsbarrow. Lydia had begged her in three or four letters to acquiesce to Christopher’s wishes.
And now Charlotte would go with her brother without a fight.
She doubted London would make her happy, but one thing she knew for certain: she’d never talk to Alex again. He was a misplaced sham of a hope she’d not even realized she’d held on to so tightly for all her life.
Sometimes hope died, and obligation reared its awful head.
Chapter 6
Alex dashed his fists againstthe secondhand desk in his rented room. Moxham slumped in the chair across from him, working through a reading primer, but as his man-of-all-work muttered, Alex couldn’t stop thinking of yesterday.
It was true that he’d wished to see the Otterburn lands and the old ruins. That had been one of his purposes for accepting Miss Roylance’s invitation to ride. But he admitted to himself now that it was far more than that. As a boy, he had found her much less annoying than most girls, but now he found her to be the most annoying of any female he’d ever encountered.
That was, of course, if annoyance was measured by how much someone could plague one’s thoughts. Her auburn hair, less red than her once unruly tresses used to be, came into his mind. Why couldn’t it be the fire-red braids with bits sticking out of them from so many years ago? And where had her freckles run off to? Now her complexion was clear and seemed soft and—
“Compli-ca-tie-on?” Moxham looked up from his desk. He’d been diligently working through reading primers for the last month and was making good progress.
“Ahh.” Alex paced over and read over the man’s shoulder. “Oh no.Complication.Thet-i-o-nmakes ashunsound. Declaration, salvation. It is an irregular formation. Best to memorize it.”
Moxham nodded. “Thank ye.”
Alex resumed pacing. Complication. That’s what Charlotte had seemed. She certainly wasn’t his salvation.
No, she’d assumed the worst of him and fled before he could explain himself. Though, what he would have said he didn’t know, for she had discerned at least part of his reasoning. When he’d asked about the ruins, the jewel, even, she’d changed so suddenly. And then for her to have the gall to ask him about his past! He could never share that with her. It was best if the world forgot that part of him so he could attempt the role of gentleman, at least in some circles that involved her.
A pang of guilt pushed against him. He had wanted to see the lands for gain. And when she’d shown him that stone... he hadn’t told the truth there either.
“I’ve finished,” Moxham said, closing the booklet. “How many more o’ these readers do ye have? They’re not gettin’ much easier.”
“You are a fine student,” Alex said, pulling up a chair across from him. “The ability to read opens doors—opportunities that one who cannot read does not understand.” Moxham nodded.
Alex thought of what reading had done for him. It was, above everything else, second only to the grace of God, the thing that had saved him. He wanted the same opportunities for his servant. Moxham and his brother had befriended him at the beginning, when they’d all been grunt mine laborers together. Alex cared for him like the brother he’d never had and once had even saved him from nearly dying by a firedamp explosion. But neither of them had been fast enough to save Moxham’s brother, Rhys.
Moxham trace the edge of the booklet, and Alex cleared his throat. “Now, I was wondering if we might discuss a few ideas before I have to report to Mr. Cartwright, seeing as my Otterburn plan is not going as I wished it to.”
“What’re ye thinkin’?” Moxham’s leathery skin split into a smile, showing one of his badly chipped teeth.
