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“I do,” Frederica said with a light laugh, “I figured the secret ingredient was whisky.”
They shared a grin, and Charity waited in deep thoughts while they rang for tea, and Federica ran to Theo’s private room to get the whisky from the cabinet. They drank their first cup in companionable silence, and Charity admired Frederica's restraint and understanding.
The thoughts plaguing Charity were unusual for her and left her feeling confused and hopeful.
“Do you dream of love, Frederica?” she asked.
A slight flush tinted her friend’s cheek. Frederica took a sip of her tea. “I have wondered a few times what it would like to be kissed. I do not dare think of more. Why?”
“I am falling in love” she stopped frowning down into her tea. “I am already in love with him.” The words left her throat reluctantly, for she was afraid once she said them, everything would become too painfully real.
“Is it Lord Ralston,” Frederica asked gently.
Charity snapped her head up. “Am I that obvious with my tendre?”
“Only to those who know you,” Federica murmured. “That day after you broke into the Lord Sallis’s home and you hurried here to tell us about it, whenever you mentioned the earl you…you sparkled.”
“He asked me to marry him.”
Frederica gasped. “You are engaged to the earl? This is wonderful news!”
Charity swallowed down the ache building in her throat. “I refused.”
“I see. You feel he does not love you,” she said with deep understanding.
“Yes, perhaps I am not the sort of woman he can fall in love with. What if he has an ideal, and I simply do not meet it?”
Frederica frowned thoughtfully. “The rumors did say he would only marry a lady with an irreproachable character and who observes the proper decorum.”
Charity smiled ruefully. “While I might not be a conventional ton lady by some standards, I have not done anything to invite scandal. So I am not that objectionable as a partner for a gentleman of rank and fortune.”
“Which Lord Ralston seems to notice. Perhaps he might yet fall in love with you, Federica said.
Charity attempted to smile, but it did not reach her heart which felt incurably sadden. “He is not a man given to sentiments.”
She did not know if Ethan could ever learn to love her the way she loved him. The disappointment and wretchedness rising inside her heart at that awareness were most profound.
“I do not want to lose him,” she murmured, feeling tears pricked behind her lids.
“Then do not lose him,” Federica said. “It might take months or a few years, but that earl will not remain inured to your charms.”
Charity laughed, her thought whirling. “I could work harder to charm him, perhaps.”
“Or just be yourself,” her friend said gently. “You are wonderful, Charity, and if he does not see that you are a person to be loved, he is a bacon-brained arse.”
For the first time since vowing to marry only for love, Charity considered that she could marry and hope for love to come into their union. The very thought was petrifying, for there also lingered the possibility it might never happen, and she would have to pick up the pieces and live with that shattered wish.
Oh Ethan, to step forward with you when you might never love me as I love you is so very frightening.
She stood and walked over to the windows overlooking the side gardens. Love started as a seed, she realized with a jolt. It would eventually grow and flourish once waters and nourished with the right care.
What if I have been too impatient?
“Good heavens,” she breathed at the astonishing thought. She thought back to her mother, who had once mentioned that her marriage had not been a love match, but she had grown deeply in love after two years of marriage. Her husband had also returned her affection with his entire heart.
Two years. God. And here she was, hoping for that love in only a few weeks. A love that flashed and burned brightly was just as beautiful as a love that slowly grew into a large tree with roots planted deep and abiding. She wanted both kinds of love, and with a flash of insight, Charity acknowledged how different they were and how differently they might express their affection.
The wounded look in his eyes when she had insisted she needed to save herself surged into her mind.
