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Lady Duval tutted. “A lot can happen in a moment of time. Go on, then—but know that if she scratches the eyes from your head, I will not attempt to stop her.” With a challenging look, she motioned for him to follow her into the garden.
They trailed along the patio, and Benjamin stole little glances through the French doors of the home. Clearing her throat, Lady Duval alerted Charlotte to their presence, and he tensed.
“No,” Charlotte said, not raising her eyes from her book, “I refuse to spend another moment as a stand-in dolly. Tell Helen and Hyacinth to occupy themselves with other things. Tell your other daughters to leave me well alone!”
“Darling,” her aunt uttered, “You have a visitor.”
With a huff, Charlotte turned her head, and her expression shifted from tempered annoyance to shock… then to burning rage. “You have got to be joking. Thismustbe a joke of some sort! Auntie—“
“Oh, Charlotte!” her aunt admonished. “I have eight little ladies to contend with as is. There will be no whining from you. Now, if you will excuse me…” Lady Duval waved away the rest of her sentence, hobbling down the lawn to the little girls edging closest to the pond, crying, “Madeleine, put down that toad! Tamsin, where have your shoes gone?”
With a groan, Charlotte slammed down her novel and made for the doors. Benjamin was quick to catch her, looping his hand around her wrist. “You will unhand me at once,liar!” she spat.
“I have traveled a day from London to speak with you—run all you like, but you will not get far.” He recoiled as she snatched her hand back.
“Threats? I shouldn’t be surprised. It seems that sort of behavior runs in the family. Forgive me—how very impetuous I am being,Your Grace,” she fawned in pretend appreciation.
At least she had not lost her sense of humor. “I didn’t know!” he blurted out. “What I mean is… I had no idea who Gamston was before I met you. I swear it.”
Charlotte’s brow furrowed, but it did little to chase away the scorn that colored the rest of her features. “I don’t believe you. In fact, I have chosen not to believe another word you say for as long you live—which will not be long if you continue to press me as you have been.”
“Charlotte, please—“
“No,you, please leave me alone!” She turned around and cried as she came face to face with him. “How many times must I tell you to abandon all dreams of you and me, Benjamin? Be a scoundrel! Be a Duke! Be whomever you please! You will not convince me to allow myself to fall in love with you again.”
Her words had given him pause. “Fall in love with me...again?”
Charlotte flushed red, and she gritted her teeth. “It does not matter,” she said unconvincingly. “What matters is that you promised there would be no more lies between us, and you betrayed your word one time too many.”
He had not known what to expect when he had sped up to the country, but it had not been this. Benjamin, for whatever reason, had thought to have the tools with which to convince Charlotte to return to him. He had been a fool for it. The reason he longed for her wasbecauseof her spirit. He could not shackle it; he could not command it; soon, he feared, he would not be able to stand in its light either.
“Tell me what I can do to win you back,” was all he could say.
To his surprise and horror, she began to cry. She tipped her head back as if refusing to let her tears fall. “No,” she said shakily as she blessed him with a look again. “It’s too late, Benjamin. We are too far gone. I cannot…” she looked down at her hands, “I cannot let you break my heart again.”
“But you want me,” he breathed, taking an illicit step toward her, “You want me as much as I want you. If you ask me to live as Gamston’s son… I will do it. We could have all we have ever dreamed.”
Gently, she wiped at her tears, and it almost shattered his heart. “You have never dreamed of peerage life—and I have never dreamed of marrying a liar.” She bit her lip. “If I forgive you this, it will only lead to more pain, and I... I will not survive you.”
“Charlotte—“
“It does not matter what I want. It does not matter how happy I thought we might be. I am not strong enough to endure the pain of losing you again. More than that, I owe it to myself not to let you walk all over me—don’t you see? And if that makes me a coward, so be it! I am afraid!”
He saw. He saw every word paint itself across her face. “Of course, Charlotte. You’re right. I will leave at once.”
Her face twisted, wounded, as if him agreeing to let her go hurt more than him fighting for her. Benjamin understood. How could he not? For so long, he had thought himself not worthy of her. He had nothing to offer but his adoration. The ton would never have accepted the match, even if it was not a web of lies. Now that he should avail a decent partner, the dratted son of a Duke, their trust was so broken that she still could not accept him.
He turned on his heel and made to leave. And then he heard, “Wait!” from Charlotte’s lips. Twisting just enough to see her run towards him, he was seized by the woman he so adored. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she brought him in close. He held her, knowing it was their last embrace, fearing a life without Lady Charlotte Fitzroy.
Tearing herself away just an inch, she whispered in his ear, “Become the Duke not for me but for the man you ought to have been all along. Do not spite yourself because of your pride.”
Pulling away, he whispered, “Do not spite yourself because of your fear.”
As eight little girls and their mother began the slow ascent up the paddock, Benjamin tore Charlotte from his arms gently and turned away.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
For as long as Charlotte could remember, she had considered the prospect of marriage with nothing more than fear. The idea of giving herself to another person, one who more likely than not have been of her father’s choosing, made life not feel as though it was worth living. It felt a prison sentence decided for her at birth, and her resolve had doubled when her father had pressed Gamston on her.
