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“Which one of you is going to see me ruined? I’ll choose spinsterhood before I allow you to force me into this. I’m not afraid anymore.” Then she looked at him, crossing the short distance between them. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

He squeezed her fingers. “I am trying to be as brave as you.”

She gave a curt nod. “I know. I appreciate that.”

“Charlie,” Rathmore called from behind her. “It’s time for you to go.”

“What?” She let go of his hand and spun back around. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my room, and furthermore, we’re discussing my future.”

“Crestwood,” Rathmore said, “See my cousin out, please.”

“No.” Charlie crossed her arms, then she looked back at him. “Don’t let them do this.”

He reached for her then, pulling her into his arms and wrapping her in a hug, grazing a kiss on the top of her head. Despite her best efforts the men had decided and he wasn’t going to stop them. “They’re right, love. You should go. We’ll get it all sorted.”

She jerked back, accusation in her narrowed glare. “We won’t. I’ll not marry you. Not like this.”

“This is the way, love,” he said, trying to reach for her again, but she stepped back.

“Not for me, it isn’t.” Then she reached up her hand and gave his chest a tiny push. “You have to stop running from your feelings too.” Then she spun about and stormed out of the room.

Chapter Thirteen

Charlie stomped through the house, marching toward the music room where the rest of the family assembled. But at the last moment, she veered off and made her way to the foyer. She couldn’t be social now. Which was odd for her.

But rather than pretend to laugh and be gay, she opened the front door and headed out of the house, toward the path to the beach. This time, she wasn’t looking for a distraction. She didn’t need to be entertained. This time, she was going to sit in a dark, quiet place, all alone, listen to the water and…remember.

Remember the way her mother had rocked her as a child, and how she missed that touch so deeply it hurt. She could still hear the soft lilt of her mother’s voice as she sang Charlie a soft lullaby. Of course, her mother would have never consented to her daughter being called Charlie. She’d have insisted on Charlotte no matter how brash or bold her daughter could be.

She’d remember how her father had taken her on his horse and trotted her around the yard as they both laughed and bounced together.

Pictures of family dinners where her parents allowed her to talk incessantly of her day, her lessons, her wish to be a boy and go trotting off on an adventure. Like a pirate or a highwayman.

Charlie stopped along the path as she remembered the loneliness that had nearly engulfed her when she’d learned that their ship had gone down while crossing the channel and she remembered how her brother had been too struck by his own grief and likely the burden of taking on the title to console her. She’d been so very alone.

And now, she felt that keen sense of not belonging again.

But she wouldn’t fill that hurt with meaningless parties and half-baked attempts at adventure. She’d face that fear, cry, and try to find a way forward. In some ways, she’d been exactly like Raithe. Afraid to move on.

But Charlie was ready for the future now. She just wished she was moving forward with Raithe. And not some forced sham marriage. Because what she wanted was a family filled with love, and tenderness, and laughter. Like hers had been. And she’d never get that if Chase made Raithe consent. He had to choose her in order for them to have the sort of life she dreamed of. Anything less would be its own sort of heartbreak.

Reaching the beach, she started for the little hideaway they’d been in yesterday. She’d be safe there, tucked away from the wind and the tide. Her own little place to figure out the right path forward.

Was it with Raithe? Her heart cried out yes even as she winced. He was hurt too, and that was a lot of grief to bring into a new relationship. What was the best way to proceed? Did she try to convince Raithe love had grown between them?

Or perhaps she’d refuse to take part in the wedding? Would she run away? No. She was tired of running. She’d simply refuse to say her vows, make a public display of being silent until… a strange noise caught her ears.

It sounded like scraping or dragging.

“Where’s that cave?” a man grunted as more noise filtered her way.

“Just over there, I think.” Another called back.

Charlie froze. This time, she had not been in search of an adventure but one seemed to have found her. There was a labyrinth of caves, they could be referring to any one of them. She could try and scramble up the hill or she could hide.

Spinning about, she slipped into the little hideaway. Surely, she’d be safe there.

Raithe took a third hit to his gut, tensing his muscles to try and reduce the impact of the blow. He’d not hit back, no matter how much he itched to break Rathmore’s rather perfect nose. “Are you satisfied yet?”

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