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“There are only a few more weeks until I won’t be leaving my house at all, regardless of what Giulia threatens. There is no earthly way I will miss the birth of my baby.”
Envy, pure and unadulterated, seeped into Charles’s chest and wrapped around his heart. He would willingly give his right hand to be in Nick’s shoes, to have a wife who loved him and a child on the way. It was everything Charles was missing in his life. He would even be happy to fret so heavily that his wife was forced to send him away for a reprieve.
He might already have that if he hadn’t wasted the last ten years bouncing between his estate and Town, doing his utmost to find a meaningful purpose, and had instead focused on finding a wife.
Swallowing against the bitterness rising in his throat, he forced a smile. “That will be a blessed day, indeed.”
They parted ways at the road, and Charles waved farewell before urging his horse into a canter. He wanted a brisk ride and a cool breeze to offset the stifling sun, but lacking the breeze, the ride alone didn’t seem to work. His horse Maximus had a little more gumption; comparatively, this steed was lackluster.
Pulling off the lane, he directed the horse through the grove. He ducked under wayward branches and followed the stream toward the pond he knew to be at the heart of the wood. The refreshing, cold water he’d enjoyed before leaving the vale was still fresh in his mouth, and cool relief called to him. The pond was not technically on his property, but he’d never encountered another soul there before.
The bubbling sound of water trickling over rocks and down the stream met his ears, and he knew instant relief when he moved into the shade of the chestnut trees. Sliding down from his horse, he pulled the reins over the horse’s head and tugged his borrowed steed along the path downstream, weaving through trees as he made his way toward the small, shaded pond. Dappled sunlight sprinkled the ground before him, but the dim woods were a balm to his overheated body.
Charles wasn’t a horrible man. He truly was glad for Nick Pepper and his wife, that they had found love and would soon become parents. Watching them together, it was impossible not to sense the overpowering love they shared, and they were lucky to have it.
But he also felt like he’d been punched in the gut, so badly did he want those things for himself. It did not lessen his happiness for the Peppers. He only had to remember that it was possible to be genuinely pleased for his friend’s joy and contentment while desiring the same thing for himself.
Perhaps Charles had been too quick to dismiss the idea of going to London for the Season earlier that year. He had thought he needed more time to heal from Miss Pemberton’s rejection the year before and his clear preference for Amelia still, but now it felt as though he had only postponed finding a wife even longer. And London seemed like the best chance he had of doing so. He wasn’t likely to meet a woman if he remained in Devon—not when he knew every woman here already.
Reaching the pond, he tugged at his cravat, pulling it free from his neck and tucking it under where his coat was thrown over the horse’s neck. Sitting on a small boulder, he pulled off his boots and stockings and tossed them to the side. The pond was only waist-deep, but it would be exactly what he needed to cool off after the long, hot day.
The cold shocked his feet as he stepped over mossy stones, but the water refreshed him immediately. He stood a moment, acclimating to the freezing water and breathing in the damp, earthy air. Perhaps if he just made it to the center, the water would reach his knee and it would be sufficient. A frog hopped in front of him just before he stepped again, and he lost his footing on the slippery stone, falling into the stream with a resounding splash. Water seeped up through his clothing and a volley of shivers ran over his skin as he adjusted his position.
The cold was a shock to his system, and he craved more. This was exactly what he’d needed.
“In for a penny,” he said to himself, and he dove forward in the shallow pond, submerging himself in the cold water before standing up again and slicking the water from his face. There was no breeze, but the cold water had done its part, and he felt—
“Charles?”
He froze. No. It could not be. Fate would not be so unkind.
Opening his eyes, he suppressed a groan. Amelia stood on the bank opposite him, her horse’s reins in her hands as she trailed her gaze down his person, her blue eyes wide.
Was it prideful for him to be glad he’d spent the day wielding a hammer? At least his arms wouldn’t look inadequate under her scrutiny.
Water ran down his forehead, dripping into his eyes, and he smoothed a hand over his hair to slick the droplets away. Amelia remained standing before him, unmoving, and he didn’t know if he should approach her or slip back under the water and wait for her to disappear.
“Charles,” she said again, her mouth gaping. “I did not expect to find anyone here.”
“Nor I.”
“Are you…” She cleared her throat and glanced away before looking back. “That is to say…”
Amelia evidently did not know what to say. Her mouth hung open as her words trailed into the air and dissipated. Her gaze dipped over him again, and it occurred to Charles that it was he who needed to walk away. He’d accomplished what he’d come here for.
But what had she come here for?
Hesitating, he asked, “Is there something I can do for you?”
Amelia’s eyes—though he would have previously thought it impossible—widened further. “No, I need nothing from you.”
Those words fell on his ears with grating reality. Of course she didn’t. He had nothing to offer her, after all. Closing his lips into a grim line, he turned his back on her and trudged out of the pond, careful to avoid slipping on the mossy rocks once again. He’d originally intended to let the summer heat dry his clothes somewhat, but now he only wanted to retreat.
Water ran down his ankles, soaking his stockings the moment he pulled them over his feet.
“Charles,” Amelia called to him, her soft red eyebrows pulling together. The distance between them felt so much greater than the mere length of the pond. “Have I done something to offend you?”
Was the woman in earnest? Of course she hadn’t offended him. And if she had, why would it matter? She’d never before seemed to mind rejecting him out of hand. He wanted to deliver a snappy remark, but her concerned eyes were too much for him. He hated seeing her uncertainty.
