Reminding him of the strictures of society might make him leave sooner, to protect her reputation—of which she had none—but he wouldn’t know that.
Her skin tingled as she pressed her palm to the door and attempted to calm herself before the confrontation. She had to keep the upper hand, and she needed to win. Charlotte had too much to lose.
Peregrine had a life of wealth and comfort waiting for him in the city. Charlotte had no such options. Her secret must be kept, or else she would be condemned to a life of shame and scandal. There was also her family to consider. If news of her presence at Fermoy came to London, thetonwould gossip mercilessly about what had kept her away so long. They would question why she had never married. At this moment, she was still forgotten. Her hand caressed the knob reluctantly, and she knocked on the door, awaiting Perry’s response.
“You may enter,” came the voice inside the room.
Charlotte turned the knob, her eyes lowered as she entered the room to avoid his heated blue gaze.
“Good morning, Charlotte.”
Her entire body reacted to the brusque way he said her name. She would have to find some charm within her, since she had to convince him to respect her wishes. Charlotte despaired, knowing she had not kept her charm skills particularly honed in the last ten years… There had been no reason. Sitting in the rich, golden velvet upholstered chair next to the bed, she folded her hands primly in her lap and cleared her throat.
“Good morning, my lord,” her words struggled to come out, her voice suddenly thick. “How good it is to see you looking so…refreshed.”
“I feel much restored after such a deep sleep last night.”
Silence stretched between them as Charlotte chose her words.
Unfortunately, they wouldn’t come.
“Charlotte, please explain to me your presence here. Help meunderstand why I believed you dead and buried these last ten years. Even as my eyes rest on your familiar face, I still cannot believe it.”
Charlotte released a slow exhale. Her hands shook in her lap as she considered the correct path for her thoughts. How much could she reveal? How much did she have to divulge to satisfy him? The fewer lies to keep track of, the better. She quickly sorted the information in her mind, hoping much of it would stay hidden. Safe. Peregrine gave her an impatient look and brushed a hand through his hair with his good arm.
“Charlotte,” he said, his mouth tilting up into a ghost of a smile. “Please, help me understand.”
“I’ve been living in seclusion for some time now, as was my choice many years ago.”
He kept his unwavering gaze locked on her, surely studying her for signs of deception. “Almost ten years now. I knew you had taken ill. My father told me you had died. During our time together, you seemed in perfect health, so I found it unbelievable.”
Charlotte sighed, avoiding his eyes. The dishonesty shamed her, but the reality of what she was protecting kept her strong. Manipulating a few truths was worth the effort. It was embarrassing to discuss such intimacies with a man who seemed like a perfect stranger to her now.
“When I returned to London after summering at Fermoy, I began to feel symptoms of a condition. I was constantly unwell, often bedridden, and too weak to stand. My parents recommended that I postpone the wedding to Dewberry and take to the country to regain my health. The doctor said I was in grave danger. There was little hope of a full recovery. We believed time in the country might be healing.”
Perry narrowed his gaze, examining her for signs of…deception?
A fine sheen of sweat broke out over her skin. Did he sense that she wasn’t telling him the whole truth, or was it simply her imagination?
“I recall you were engaged to the viscount,” Perry said as he made a disgusted face. “Dewberry was at least double your age. You were but a girl of twenty. I’m glad you didn’t go forward with the nuptials, even if it did leave you in a bad spot.”
Charlotte cleared her throat and played with her hands in her lap. His scrutiny made her heart race. She gathered her courage; the performance must continue. Failure was not an option.
“While I was recovering, the viscount took a liking to another young woman. She was much more robust and ready to marry. It was easy to turn his head. He grew impatient and concerned that I might not be a healthy bride. They eloped to Gretna Green, and I was left—cast off and rejected. I brought great shame to the family.” There, Charlotte was happy with the way her words were mostly the truth. “My options after that were few. I was a discarded fiancée.”
Mostly.
“None of it was your fault, surely you can recognize that,” he said as he reached out his hand from the bed and placed it on hers to quiet their fretful movement. “You could have married another.”
Charlotte blinked back the tears at his mercy. His kindness. His touch had always been so comforting. So irresistible. She reached for it, as a moth irresistibly drawn to a flame.
“They told me that since I was still unwell and not able to return to society, I could stay for as long as I needed to recover. My family never rejected me or made me feel like a disappointment, but I knew I had let the greatest opportunity of my life slip through my fingers. If I returned to society, I would forever be branded a sickly, jilted bride.” Reluctantly, her gaze drifted to connect with his. “I couldn’t bear it.” Her heart broke at the pity she could see in his eyes. If only he knew how much she didn’t deserve it.
“Your family abandoned you in the country. When I returned to the city, I sought out an audience with your father, and he mademe believe you were near death’s door. That you might never return.”
Charlotte huffed. “My father did the best he could with the situation. I had yet to be abandoned by my betrothed. Since I was already removed from society by my illness, it was difficult to come back after such a blow was dealt by Viscount Dewberry. It was agreed that I would weather the storm of the scandal in the country. You see, thetonassumed I had left because of my prolonged illness. And of course, once my betrothed called off the match, the gossips went wild. I had no idea when I left for the country that I would never return. But it made the most sense for me. My family offered me their support and protection. I would hide my shame in the deep recesses of the countryside. It was no hardship to be in the place I truly loved.”
Peregrine choked on her last words. He coughed, and Charlotte handed him his glass of water. Her eyes evaded his look of sympathy. Shame washed over her and she sank deeper into the chair. She waited for him to finish his drink, hoping he would be satisfied with her story. Best to focus on something that didn’t make her feel worse than she already did.
