His words were a slap to my face. The pain from their truth choked me, but I would not let him see he’d wounded me by speaking the very words I feared to expose the most, the fears I would never claim out loud.
He blinked and swallowed, his face turning rosy with each passing moment of silence between us. “I did not—what I meant to say, was—”
I stood suddenly. “Our lives may not turn out how either of us expected them to, but at least I am trying to make the best of mine. That is more than anyone can say of you.”
Without a second glance, I strode to Liza at the pianoforte and pulled up a chair beside her.
“What is wrong?” Liza asked, her fingers dropping from the keys to her lap. “Why does Charlie look so upset?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. I adjusted the pages of music on the pianoforte, then played from where Liza left off. I let my fingers glide along the keys, filling the air with music to drown out Charlie’s words in my head.
Mozart. Smooth, measured Mozart.
Dinner was called shortly after. Propriety required Ben to take Liza in, but I didn’t give Charlie the satisfaction of a glance as he stood above me, offering his arm. I barely held on as he walked me to my seat, which was, unfortunately, directly beside his. After he’d helped me settle, Ben stood to push me in a little more comfortably, as though to show Charlie how it should be done. I grinned at my brother. He might not always make the most reasonable decisions, but he certainly and thankfully prioritized loyalty to his family.
Liza sat directly across from me and indulged me in more than enough conversation. And any time Charlie spoke to the table, I took a mouth full of something so he would not direct his conversation at me.
After dinner, Mrs. Ollerton led Mama out, with Liza and I close behind. But halfway out in the hall, a hand took my arm.
“Miss Newbury, you dropped this,” Charlie said.
I touched my neck, but I hadn’t worn any jewelry to lose.
Liza continued to follow her mother, but I turned to face Charlie with a look of reproach.
His gaze dropped, and he swallowed. He held something in his hand.
“What is it?” My voice came out harsh. Did Ben know he’d followed me?
Charlie bit his bottom lip and handed me a handkerchief.Hishandkerchief. Stitched with the initialsC.W.
I took it from him, examining it to be sure. “But this is yours.”
He tucked his hands behind his back and gave me a pained smile. “I am not good at making excuses, but I wanted to speak with you.”
My brow furrowed. Is that why he had pretended the handkerchief was mine?
Charlie’s eyes held mine like he wished I would save him from his misery. But I would not. I would make him say every word.
He bit his bottom lip. “You are angry with me. And I find I like that very little.”
A lump wedged firmly in my throat.
He took a small step closer. “I should not have spoken to you so harshly earlier. I let my fear guide my tongue, and I wounded you. Can you forgive me?” His eyes were pleading, earnest. “Please.”
Never had I heard such sincere words from a gentleman. And so soon after a quarrel.
“I should not have pressed you,” I added. He was not solely to blame.
“Why shouldn’t you press your friend when he needs to hear what you are saying? Is that not what friends are for?”
I looked at his crisp neckcloth, focusing on the red-and-gold-spotted design he clearly preferred. “Your life is yours, not mine. You are free to choose your own happiness regardless of my opinions. If you wish to live apart from your family, who am I to discourage you?”
He gave me a half smile. “I thought that is what I wanted. I thought I could continue with my life as I had planned it. Pretending like nothing had changed. But the problem is, I do not wish to be free of my family. I simply wish I could escape how painful it is to love them so dearly. Perhaps then I would not care about how inadequate I am to step into such an important role in their lives—in Henry’s. Disappointing them when they are already so broken is a pain I cannot bear.”
I hesitated, unsure of what to say that might help. “I wonder what your mother would say to that. I imagine I would tell my son that there is nothing worse he could do than give up before he’d even started.”
He rubbed his jaw with his hand, seeming to ponder my words as much as he studied the floor. “I should never have chided you for offering me advice when it is granted with such wisdom. I must apologize again.”
