Charlotte fingered the wide, stylish neckline of her favorite gown. She liked it especially because her mother hadn’t chosen it for her, nor had Christopher suggested she purchase it for a specific social gathering. She’d decided she wanted another dress, asked for the money, made the appointment at the dressmaker’s, and seen the entire acquisition to its finish. Having a dress made seemed like such a trivial thing, but to Charlotte it meant the world. It represented her own decisions. It represented herself. It was a physical example that, at least once, she hadn’t cowed to her brother, given in to her father, or succumbed to her family’s expectations.
It was high time she did what she wanted with her life as well, not what anyone else expected of her. She released her hold of the dress and moved to her writing table. In a short letter she explained to Christopher her plans to return home for the time being. She’d make sure it was sent after he left on his trip.
As soon as the note was blotted, folded, and sealed, Charlotte called Ellen to help her undress. “I will help you pack my dresses so they can be ready before we leave.”
“You are sure, miss?” her maid asked. It was as if even her maid wasn’t sure Charlotte could make such a decision.
“Quite sure. Thank you.”
With her heart more made up than it had been in years, Charlotte retired to sleep. She wasn’t worried about the balls she might miss, and although she’d disappoint Lydia, she’d find a way to see her friend again. No matter the fury of her brother and the possible disappointment of Lord Ainscough, she would move forward with her plan.
Chapter 14
Charlotte rushed down the stairsthe next morning to the overconfident sound of Joseph’s voice greeting someone in the vestibule. “So you reallyareLord Ainscough, then?”
Charlotte’s traveling boots froze on the stairs. She could truly have Joseph’s head.
“My brother is pleased to make your acquaintance,” she heard George say.
Air seeped back into Charlotte, and she raced to the front door before any more damage could be done.
“Lord Ainscough.” She curtsied. His serious expression turn into a smile, which waned again as he studied her sturdy traveling cloak. “I see you’ve had the great pleasure of meeting some of my younger brothers.” Moving her arm like a shepherd’s crook, she scooted George and Joseph toward the door. George understood and pulled Joseph out the door, down the front steps, and toward the waiting carriage.
As soon as Charlotte stepped back toward Lord Ainscough, he spoke. “Are you going somewhere?” A footman carried a trunk across the room, and Lord Ainscough followed it with the question in his eyes.
Knowing what pain she was about to cause him, Charlotte’s heart sank, but it wasn’t enough to alter her resolve. It wasn’t because ofhimshe was leaving, but rather the pressure from the situation thatinvolvedhim. She steadied her resolve. “I am ever so sorry, but I must travel to Northumberland immediately.”
He stepped closer and took her free hand in his. “Is something wrong? Are you unwell?”
She shook her head. “Nothing is wrong. But I cannot stay here any longer. I am sorry to be leaving, but my home calls to me, and I must, for once, listen to my heart.”
For the first time ever, she watched frustration pull down Ainscough’s expressive eyebrows, and he stepped away. “I was hoping to court you. I had hoped that, in the future, we might—”
Charlotte stopped him with her hand. “Please don’t speak such words. Not now, not here.” She didn’t want him to make official declarations. She pulled her cloak closer around herself. “I don’t know how long I shall be gone.” She shrugged. “Perhaps some time in the future I will come back to London.”
Lord Ainscough pulled his boots together, the heels scraping across the tile. “There will be no persuading you, then?” A sad half smile pulled at his mouth.
“I am afraid not.”
“Was it something I did?”
She sighed. “No, not at all. It is just that I am not myself here.” The truth was she hadn’t been herself for what felt like years. “I am so sorry I can’t explain more at present.”
His mouth set into a perturbed scowl, and then he nodded and offered a curt bow. When his eyes met hers again, he sighed. “Godspeed, Miss Roylance.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and after he walked down the steps, she moved toward the carriage and George handed her in.
As they drove away, she felt her heart lighten. She knew she should have been more distraught at the terse conversation she’d just had, but with every turn of the carriage wheels, her feelings grew in clarity. Lord Ainscough was everything good and upstanding, and yet he was too bland, too monochrome. He did not excite her heart.
“You know,” George said, giving Charlotte a strong squeeze around her shoulders at breakfast the morning after they returned to Otterburn Castle, “I am proud of you.”
“And why is that?” She turned toward him, noticing the stubble on his chin and his muscly form. He was the most athletic of her brothers and had recently joined Harrow’s rowing team. He’d grown in strength over the past year. Though less visible, it appeared he’d grown in wisdom too.
“In coming here, you stood up for what you wanted. I’ve been waiting for your old backbone to return.”
“Excuse me?” She placed one hand on her hip and glared at him. They stood alone in the breakfast room; Joseph had slept in as usual, and Walter had eaten early and then run out to play.
George lifted a plate from the stack and smiled. “You heard me. I recall being about five and having a fiery-tempered sister, who made demands and exacted things of her brothers, both the older and the younger. She was, admittedly, a mite too bossy, but I liked her.” He glanced away from the sideboard and winked and then returned his attention to his plate. “But I have noticed something since then has changed. Every time I returned from Harrow, you’ve seemed more quiet, more tense. It reminded me”—he rubbed at his chin—“of a mare wanting to break free but too skittish to do so.”
