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Before, Charles had very little time for the man. Now, he could not even stomach seeing him. “This is none of your concern, sir.”
“She is my daughter,” he barked out. “I have every right—”
“She is my wife,” Charles interjected firmly.
Mr. Oakley stopped, his nostrils flaring.
Charles had an entire speech lined up for the man—words about how greatly Mr. Oakley had damaged his daughter and how he’d had no right to send such a disparaging and assuming letter to her—but time was of the essence. Marie was more important than a lecture right now.
Charles gave Mr. Oakley one more stern look, then faced his mother. “Please, where did she go?”
With wide eyes, she replied. “On the balcony, son.”
He made to leave, then paused, resting a comforting hand on Mother’s arm. “I promise I will tell you everything later. But for now, you must trust me.”
Mother nodded in an instant, obviously unused to seeing Charles in such a serious state, but he didn’t have time to explain.
He fled from the ballroom, side-stepping couples with their drinks and dodging pursuant older women until he reached the balcony. From there, he peered out into the darkness, pleading with Heaven before catching sight of a flash of pink disappearing down the steps.
He didn’t miss a beat, taking the stairs two at a time and ignoring the startled looks of other couples who had slipped out to enjoy the night air on the balcony.
When he reached the base of it, he spotted her tucked away in the darkness, leaning against the side of the house.
“Marie?” he asked softly.
She started. “Charles? What are you...”
He slowed his steps, taking in the sight of her tear-streaked cheeks glinting in the moonlight above them. The soft murmur of the ballroom sounded above, but no other guests had made it off the balcony, leaving the two of them finally alone.
“You shouldn’t be out here with me,” she said with a shake of her head. “It will ruin our chance for an annulment if rumors sprout.”
“I do not care.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it is true.” He closed the distance between them, ready to be finished with the secrets and the hidden feelings. He was ready for the truth. “Why did you run from me? Did you not wish to dance?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she began, then ended with a sigh. Her shoulders slumped forward, and she leaned against the wall behind her. “Because I could not see the purpose in doing so if you are not to remain my husband.”
A soothing warmth spread from his chest, and this time, he didn’t stamp it out.
“That is what you heard from Mr. Page, is it not?” she continued, her hand uselessly flapping down at her side.
“He did speak with me, yes,” Charles said softly. “He told me that since we were both forced into this marriage, an annulment could be sought after. But there is no guarantee that our names would remain untarnished. Especially after the time we’ve spent together—alone— in the cottage.”
She wiped away another tear, her gloves already removed and clasped in her left hand. “You needn’t worry on my account. I am perfectly capable of handling Society’s rejection.”
“Is that what you want? Do you still wish to end our marriage?”
She stared up at him, a vulnerability crossing her features before she pushed herself away from the wall and raised her chin. “I do not wish to be with a man who does not wish to be with me.”
Charles drew a steadying breath. “What of being with a man who does?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
