He couldn’t help but think it was all Chris’s doing. The man had not only dismissed him unceremoniously; he must have told everyone he knew to shun the very ground Alex Jenkins walked on. It was true theirs had once been close families, linked in almost every way, but did the Roylances have to go so far to turn everyone against him? Part of him wanted to believe that if Christopher hadn’t held a grudge for so long, some of the other men nearby would have entirely forgotten the Jenkins smirch on their books. But it appeared there was to be no forgiveness.
Some of the men he’d spoken with clearly feared Christopher. Had he really turned into that much of a tyrant? There was a time when Alex could have bested him in any wrestle or confided in him or made him laugh. It seemed Christopher was determined never to entertain thoughts of renewing their old friendship.
Dejected, Alex pondered what he should do next. He’d promised Mr. Cartwright he would do everything he could to secure the Otterburn lands. From what Alex had learned, Christopher had boasted to many businessmen about the rich coal vein in his property. Now Mr. Cartwright wanted to add the Roylance land to his empire. The forest was to be the crown jewel in his mining monopoly.
As much as Alex hated the actual mines and the horrible work conditions involved, he reminded himself that he was further removed now, working mostly with the owners and gentry, though that fact didn’t assuage his conscience. There was still so much danger for the young children and women there, and many bad practices. He hoped his higher status could bring a change for those below him. And his job had at least provided enough that two years ago he’d finally paid his father’s debts. Not that his parents had stayed around to enjoy their newfound freedom. They’d been so humiliated that they hadn’t wanted to muddy Alex’s name further and had left England, telling him to stay behind.
At least his position offered him a good level of comfort if he constantly economized. He knew what it was to go hungry, wear threadbare clothes, and sleep in squalor. No part of him wished to repeat what had been. He longed to once more move among the refined circles of Society, and if he could stay in Mr. Cartwright’s good graces, more promotions would inevitably follow. Someday he could stand up in the same ballroom as Christopher Roylance, his head held high.
But Cartwright would want Alex’s right hand for the failures he’d had this week.
Refusing to allow defeat to overrun him, Alex steadied his gaze on the long street. Ahead of him a young woman and her maid walked briskly out of the post office. The two of them bobbed curtsies to an older lady and started a conversation. The sheen of the morning light reflected off the younger lady’s curls beneath her bonnet, and its color reminded him of Charlotte Roylance’s hair.
Embarrassed by how many times he’d thought of her since their dance last week, he pressed on. Surely the stress of Mr. Cartwright’s expectations had done funny things to his mind. Charlotte had made it overly clear that, despite their enjoyable dance and flirtatious words, she didn’t want any kind of lasting interactions with Alex. As he passed the young woman, however, she looked away from the person she spoke to and caught his eye. Matching her gaze, he stumbled on the cobblestones before righting himself. ItwasCharlotte.Miss Roylance, he reminded himself.
With a loud voice, Miss Roylance said, “Good day, Mrs. Steele. I must step inside the milliner’s.” She pointed to the shop. “I wish to copy the bonnet in the display window and was hoping to take a closer look.”
The other lady answered, “Why, of course, dear. Good day.”
After bestowing another curtsy, Miss Roylance looked decidedly at Alex and pointed a gloved finger toward the milliner’s shop. He nodded and crossed the street.
Not sure what she was about, his curiosity took charge. The girl who’d told him they could not see each other was now directing him where to go. He entered the shop and walked to the farthest corner, where Charlotte stood. He tipped his hat and tried to mask the surprise in his face and his suddenly trembling fingers. Did being near her cause such a strange reaction?
“I thought I’d never see you again,” Charlotte whispered, a bit out of breath, as he inched closer to her. “And then there you were, across this very street.”
Alex smiled. “I told you I wished to see you again. And now Providence has allowed it to happen.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Imade it happen, Mr. Jenkins. This is not God smiling upon us.”
“I see.” He hadn’t known she had so little faith in her Creator, but he rallied nonetheless. “You are the most confusing girl I’ve ever met. One minute you are shooing me away because of your brother’s unpropitious reception, and now you are not thinking twice about chatting with me in a women’s hat shop.”
“I know.” She winced and then offered him the most attractively pathetic sigh. “You might be this confusing too if you had such a brother.”
Alex chuckled. He noticed how petite her form was next to his, her bonneted head well below his own. Her mention of Christopher again made him worry about just how much control the man wielded. “What makes you able to defy him today but not the last time we spoke?”
“He has been in London for a few days, so perhaps I am feeling bold.”
“Has it always been this bad between you?”
She glanced at him sidelong. “Our relationship has never been truly amicable, but since my father and mother have been in India, it has gotten worse. He takes very seriously his role as head of the house in their absence, but sometimes I wonder if even Father would be so austere.”
“You always were giving everyone the benefit of the doubt.” He tried to stow the smile that was wont to creep across his lips in her presence. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so full of grins, even despite the serious subject matter. “Still, Miss Roylance”—he watched her lips purse as he said her formal name—“I wish there were a way for me to meet with you in a less clandestine manner.”
Her brow furrowed, sadness etching into her beautiful eyes. “If you were ever to come again, one of the servants would tell my brother.” She sighed again, this time with real heaviness. “He should not have driven you away. He feels he’s able to bully whomever he wishes.” She reached into the nearby assortment of spools and measured a length of ribbon from one of them, and Alex wondered how many times Chris had bulliedher. By the way she was talking, it seemed a great deal. Her forced smile seemed an attempt to lighten the mood. “I guess I wanted to carpe diem and say hello, even if only for a moment.”
She glanced toward the window, but he did not want her to leave just yet.
“Why exactly is your brother in London? Will he be there long?”
Her gaze on the ribbons became more intent. “He is overseeing the readying of our London house in preparations for my Season.”
A knot entered Alex’s stomach. With Chris gone, it would be easier to learn about the surrounding areas in Northumberland—and perhaps convince many of the land holders to capitulate—but it would also mean Charlotte meeting dozens of suitors. Alex had just renewed his connection with her, and suddenly the idea of her having suitors didn’t sit well with him.
“You are going to London?” he said slowly. He wasn’t allowed to care about her future, about her whereabouts most especially, but he found he did. Quite a lot.
“If my brother has his way, yes. But I do not wish to go and have refused.”
“I see,” he said, catching her eye, wondering if the meaningful look he saw there meant she cared about staying near him as well. Before he could be certain, her gaze flitted outside once more.
