Now he really was waxing wise. She wondered if his observation was correct.
He put down a ladle and looked directly at her. “This coming to Northumberland feels like something the old Charlotte would do, like you’ve suddenly decided to take control. I don’t know what you are running from in London or how you feel about that Lord Ainscough, but I approve of your boldness.”
She didn’t know what to say. The truth was she wasn’t sure how she felt either. Shewasrunning away from Lord Ainscough, in a way, but it wasn’t justfromhim. It was more like she was runningtosomething. To her true self, she supposed.
She pressed a hand to her skirt, realizing she’d stood frozen in thought long enough, and began to fill her own plate. Silence passed between them, and by the time she was seated at the table, she felt moisture gathering in her eyes. “You don’t know what it means to hear you say that, George.” She placed her napkin in her lap. “You always stuck your neck out for me. What I remember about your being five is that you were always full of goodness. Don’t ever change, will you?”
He nodded, clearly confused at her emotion. No matter how grown-up he seemed, he hadn’t had the life experience to understand why a woman’s tears sometimes suddenly sprang up out of nowhere. She swallowed. “And I shall try very hard to be the Charlotte I once was.” She reached up and felt the garnet stone on her necklace. She’d left this bit of jewelry home in lieu of finer pieces for London, but she’d put it back on this morning, and something about it gave her strength.
George was right. It was far past time to reclaim her true self.
Chapter 15
Charlotte’s youngest brother, Walter, peeredup at her, longing in his eight-year-old eyes. “Can’t I come with you?”
“Oh, Walter.” Charlotte bent down and threw her arms around his smaller-than-average form. They stood outside the groom house of Otterburn Castle, and Charlotte’s buckskin mare snorted in anticipation. “My ride on Penny will be far too long for you to accompany me.”
Walter’s freckled face—so like her own at that age—screwed up into a pout as he stamped one foot.
“There, there. Remember, I’ve promised to take all of my brothers on an outing very soon, even the youngest, whom I don’t get to see enough.” The poor boy had spent too many of his years alone, his much older siblings having been away from home most of the time and his mother having been involved in helping their father or in social causes that didn’t involve small children. “I just need some time to plan our day so it really is splendid,” Charlotte added.
Walter cocked his head to the side and measured her. “You promise it will be grand? With loads of good food?”
Charlotte chuckled. “Indeed. So much food you won’t be able to eat half of it.”
That morsel of information appeased him. She pinched his cheek, and then he shrugged and skipped back inside.
Once a groom helped Charlotte mount her sidesaddle, she started out across the woods. A flash of remembrance brought her back to the last time she’d ridden this path. She’d told Alex she always rode with a chaperone. That wasn’t exactly true; many days, she rode alone. She’d just included that fact so that he’d be more likely to meet her.
The air held no chill, but she shuddered thinking of their tense conversation. Urging Penny to a canter, Charlotte tried to let the dense trees on either side of the path take her mind from thinking of him. She rode faster, the wind pressing against her hat, threatening to dislodge it.
Oh, how she’d missed these woods. The deep-green hues of the trees, calm and steady, were forever unvaried in their strength. The brown trunks and mossy earth welcomed her too, the textures themselves inviting and comforting. Like a soft-woven blanket, the forest enveloped her and took away all thoughts of Alex. She and Penny worked in unison, their souls speaking to each other through the rhythm of galloping hooves and racing heartbeats. The road began to widen, as it always did when it intersected with the road that led to Alnwick, and Charlotte was just about to give Penny her head when she saw something—no, someone—walking unsteadily down the road.
“Woah, girl,” she said, pulling on the reins. Penny shook her mane in protestation, but Charlotte kept a firm hand as she guided her mount toward the person.
As she drew closer, it was apparent the person was a female, probably about her own age but covered in dirt and wearing ragged clothes. Charlotte wasn’t certain, but the woman seemed to be trembling.
“Can I help you, miss?” she called.
A dirty face lined with a few clean streaks looked up at her. “I...” Her voice quavered. “I’d be glad of it, milady. I’m lost, milady.”
“Where are you from, Miss... ?”
At that the woman’s tears increased in volume, and two dirty hands covered her face. Perhaps home caused her more pain, not less. Charlotte waited several moments with no improvement to the young woman’s emotions, until at last the woman heaved a great breath. “I’m called Margaret, but that’s all I ’member! I don’t know where I’ve been or where I was goin’.”
What had happened to this woman that she couldn’t remember such paltry details? How had she come to be in the middle of this road so far from town?
Charlotte led her horse to the edge of the road near a fallen log and used the height of it like a mounting block. Once down, she drew closer and reached a hand out to Margaret’s shoulder.
Margaret stepped forward and would have collapsed had Charlotte not enveloped her in her arms.
“There, there,” Charlotte whispered, patting the woman’s tangled semblance of a bun. “It’ll be all right.”
What could Charlotte do to assist her? She weighed her options and found only one viable solution. “I think it best you come back to my home until we can learn more about your background. Would that be suitable?”
A pair of utterly terrified dark-brown eyes widened as Margaret nodded.
“Good. Right this way, Miss Margaret. I’ll have you sit in front.” Charlotte gently rubbed the woman’s shoulder as she led her to the log. Margaret began to tremble again, but Charlotte took the woman’s hand in hers, her rough skin a stark contrast to Charlotte’s own hand, and helped her settle into the saddle. When the woman’s eyes went wide, Charlotte comforted her. “You’ll be all right. Penny’s very docile.” Then, with a good amount of difficulty, Charlotte mounted behind her, trying to keep Margaret secure and not fall off herself. Penny must have understood the importance of the task because she steadily led them both carefully back to Otterburn Castle.
