Taking a deep breath, Charlotte descended the last few stairs. “My lord.”
“Miss Ferris,” he said, slightly bowing his head to her. However, the smile remained fixed in place. “May I speak to you?” Stepping aside, he gestured behind him at the drawing room.
Swallowing, Charlotte nodded, then stepped inside.
As he closed the doors behind them, she took a deep breath, willing her trembling hands to still. Being alone with him reminded her too much of…
She shook her head. There was no use in entertaining such thoughts.
“I’ve heard that Miss Davenport is ill,” Lord Huntly began, then stepped back as though understanding her need for a certain distance between them. “I hope it is nothing serious.”
“It is merely a cold, my lord,” Charlotte said, finding her own voice feeble and without strength. “I’m certain she will have recovered in a few days.”
“That is good news,” he said, an honest smile on his lips as his eyes held hers, studying her face. Then he took a step toward her, and his eyes narrowed as her own widened, watching him with apprehension. Again, he seemed to be studying her, gauging her reaction, before he said, “Have you thought about my proposal?”
Charlotte took a deep breath, then nodded, noting with surprise the tension in his shoulders. Did he truly fear she would refuse him?
“May I ask if you’ve come to a conclusion?”
“I have,” Charlotte said, trying to speak with as much confidence as she could muster. “I would … accept,” a smile lit up his face, “your proposal … under one condition.”
“You have a condition?” he mused, then nodded. “I should have expected nothing less of you. Name it, and if it is within my power, then you shall have it.”
Gnawing on her lower lip, Charlotte fought the overwhelming desire to avert her eyes and forced them to remain steady as she spoke. “While it is within your power, and yours alone, I doubt that you will agree, my lord.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued, and a curl came to his lips. “Are you proposing something indecent?” he teased, approaching with measured steps while his eyes observed her reaction.
Clasping her hands together, Charlotte tried to ignore her hammering heart. “I wouldn’t call it indecent, my lord, rather … unusual.”
“Unusual?” Coming to stand before her, his eyes shifted from hers to her trembling hands before returning to her face. “Now, I’m intrigued, Miss Ferris.”
Charlotte swallowed, forcing the words out without another thought. “I’ll accept your proposal if you give me your word that you will never visit my bed.” Heat crept into her cheeks, and she quickly averted her eyes.
With her gaze fixed on the tip of her shoes, Charlotte could not see his reaction to her condition. However, for a long moment, he remained quiet, almost immobile as he stood before her. Then she sensed him shift, and a moment later, he reached out his hand.
Instantly, Charlotte tensed, forcing herself to remain still.
However, she must have flinched ever so slightly for his hand stopped in mid-air before it fell back to his side. Then he cleared his throat. “Will you look at me, Miss Ferris?”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Charlotte lifted her eyes and found him looking at her with such compassion and understanding that the pain in her heart began to subside. “If this is truly what you desire,” he said, his gaze steady, “then you have my word that I shall never lay a hand on you,” he lowered his head a fraction, “unless you invite me.”
A jolt went through Charlotte and she took a step back, shaking her head. “That I never will.”
He nodded. “Nevertheless, you have my word.”
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte eyed him as doubts clawed at her resolve. “Can I trust you?”
“Never have I broken a word given,” he said earnestly before a dark cloud passed before his eyes. “At least not willingly.”
“Not willingly?”
Gritting his teeth, he swallowed. “The day my sister was born, I vowed to protect her, to not let any harm come to her.” He sighed. “But I failed. I broke my word, and every day, it pains me to see her so miserable.” For a moment, he closed his eyes and a contemptuous smile curled up his lips. “A fitting punishment.”
Seeing the pain and guilt over his failure in his eyes, emotions she knew only too well, Charlotte felt herself relax. As far as she could tell, he was an honourable man. A man who would keep his word. She could only hope he would not come to regret the day he had given it.
Tearing his eyes from the inner thoughts that tormented him, Lord Huntly looked at her once more. “I would not fault you for doubting my word.”
Charlotte nodded, wondering if she ought to reconsider. “I see no reason to do so, my lord.” To her surprise, the words left her mouth without another thought.
A soft smile came to his lips as he held her gaze. “Thank you,” he said, and she could see how much her trust meant to him. “I shall speak to Lord Ashwood, and we’ll be off in a day or two.”
“Off to where?” Charlotte asked in a shaky voice as the reality of her new situation came crashing down around her.
A smirk came to his face as he stepped back. “To Gretna Green.” Turning to the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “For my father would never approve of such a shameful wedding.”
***
Three days later, Charlotte found herself in a carriage on her way to the little border village in Scotland to wed a man she had met a mere fortnight ago.
Keeping her thoughts fixed on the here and now, Charlotte still could not help the occasional jolt of panic that would course through her veins at the thought of what was about to happen. Once again, her life had changed abruptly, not giving her even a single moment to catch up with it. And yet, had she had a month, Charlotte would have doubted that she had been more prepared.
“Life is strange, is it not?” her betrothed asked, seated across from her. “Sometimes a mere moment changes it in such a fundamental way that it leaves one struggling for breath.”
Swallowing, Charlotte nodded, wondering how he knew her thoughts. “It does indeed, my lord. Sometimes I wonder if it will ever stop.”
Once again, his eyes lingered on her face as though seeking to look deeper. “Your life has changed direction before, has it not?” he asked in a tone that was not a question. “More than once.”
Again, Charlotte nodded. “Sometimes it is difficult to remember … who I am, who I once was.” Taking a deep breath, she returned her gaze to the green landscape passing by outside her window. She ought not to speak to him in such a way. Too easily would things be revealed that could not be taken back.
The sun was already setting and the promise of snow danced on the air as they arrived in Gretna Green. They immediately proceeded to the Inn where her betrothed spoke to the innkeeper announcing their intention of being married that very night. After coins exchanged hands, the innkeeper summoned the local anvil priest and before Charlotte even knew what was happening, she was asked a question that would change her life forever.
“Do ye take this man to be your lawful wedded husband, forsaking all others, as long as ye both shall live?”
As her heart hammered in her chest, Charlotte once more stared at the man standing beside her, a gentle smile on his face, promising that all would be well. Would it? Charlotte wondered as her head began to pound with the enormity of the decision she was faced with.
And yet, there was no choice, was there? For the alternative terrified her to her very core.
“I will,” Charlotte mumbled, and moments later, she was married.
Married!
Sitting at a table near the large stone fireplace, Charlotte picked at her supper, eyes staring into the distance. Never in her life had she thought that her destiny would take her to Gretna Green.
“Are you all right?” her husband asked, his eyes full of concern as he looked at her. When she remained quiet, he nodded knowingly. “You sh
ould eat. These past few days have been quite tiresome. A room is being readied for us upstairs. A good night’s sleep will do you good.”
Unable to eat more than a few morsels, Charlotte allowed her new husband to escort her upstairs to their room before he left to take care of…something. Shaking her head, she realised that she had barely heard a word he’d said to her as her mind had retreated into a familiar fog, shielding her from the harsh reality around her. However, when she stepped into the room she was to share with her husband and her eyes came to rest on the bed situated at the back wall, the fog vanished in an instant.
Panic gripped her heart as painful memories returned. Memories that felt real, so real, that her teeth began to chatter as her body trembled at their onslaught.
Rough hands had yanked up her skirts, then pushed her down. One hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing slightly until she had seen stars dance before her eyes. Hot tears had streamed down her face as her own fingernails had dug into her palms. But no matter what she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to block out the feel of him. Nothing had been able to take her mind off the here and now, and even three years later, she remembered it as though it had happened yesterday.
Stumbling across the room, Charlotte sank down in front of the window, gripping the leg of a chair so tightly that her hands shone white in the silvery light that streamed in from outside. As her teeth continued to chatter, she bit down hard, forcing them to still, and her jaw clenched painfully. Tears fell onto her hands, and she realised that she was crying.
Resentment grew in her heart at the sight of her own weakness. How could she allow him to have such power over her? Even now, after all this time? She ought to be able to put the past behind her and only look to the future. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough. Maybe she didn’t deserve to be free of her past. After all, she was far from innocent. Maybe this was her punishment.
A fitting punishment. Her husband’s words echoed in her mind, and she wondered if they were more suited to each other than she had thought.
Then she shook her head. No, he deserved better. For all she knew he was a good man, who had spent his whole life protecting a sister he loved, only to fail her when she had truly needed him. And yet, she could not blame him for he had done everything in his power to keep his word.
Would he keep the word he had given her? Charlotte wondered, hoping that her judgement had not been misguided, that he would not fail her, too.
Only intentionally this time.
As footsteps echoed to her ears from down the corridor, Charlotte pushed herself to her feet, quickly brushing the tears from her face. She must not let him see her like this. If he sensed weakness, maybe he …
Again, she shook her head. Somehow it had become second nature to her to doubt people. However, he had never given her any reason to doubt him. Maybe he was truly honourable. Maybe he would protect her the way Kenneth had promised.
Swallowing, Charlotte turned to the door. As it slid open, she drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. She could only hope she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life by accepting his proposal.
Chapter Thirteen − Honesty
Taking a deep breath, Sebastian pushed open the door to their bedchamber. His wife stood at the opposite end by the window, her hands clasped together, her eyes meeting his with a defiant, unflinching look to them that spoke of bravery rather than curiosity.
Did she fear him? He wondered as his gaze slid over her tense features. His stomach turned into knots at the thought that she might think him capable of breaking his word so easily, and he realised how much her opinion mattered to him.
“Everything is taken care of,” he said, closing the door behind him. “Tomorrow, after breakfast, we shall return home.” He took a step into the room, then stopped as her shoulders tensed and she all but shrank back from him. Holding her gaze, he frowned. “Are you all right? Is there anything that you need?”
“Where will you sleep, my lord?” she asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly as her eyes darted to the bed before returning to meet his. Still trembling, she lifted her chin like someone sentenced to death, but determined not to beg.
Unable to understand the fear that held her in its clutches, Sebastian pointed to the floor. For a long moment, he held her gaze before the corners of his mouth drew up into a gentle smile. “Unless you would consider sharing the bed,” he said, a teasing tone to his voice as he tried to lighten the mood.
However, he immediately cursed himself as her features darkened and she took a step back, drawing in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, striding forward, then stopped when her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to−"
“Do men truly not care who they bed?” she asked unexpectedly. “Do you not mind sharing something so intimate with a stranger?”
Taken aback, Sebastian studied her face, trying to understand what she was asking. Although he understood that women were generally nervous on their wedding night, his wife seemed far beyond nervous. Even afraid would not do her justice. She seemed terrified, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. “You’re not a stranger,” he said, hoping to find the right words. “You’re my wife, and−"
“And yet, you don’t know me,” she interrupted, a touch of hysteria to her voice. “We’ve barely said two words to each other, and yet, we’re married.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “I should never have agreed to your proposal,” she whispered, then met his gaze once more. “It was foolish of me to think that I could …” She took a deep breath. “I suppose there is a reason why it’s a man’s marital right to bed his wife and a woman’s marital duty to share her husband’s bed. From my own experience, I’d say these are fitting terms.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Your own experience,” he mumbled as a growing suspicion took hold of his heart.
No, her behaviour was not that of an innocent woman afraid of her wedding night.
Suddenly, everything fell into place. Her condition that he not share her bed. Her fear to be alone with him. Her panic when he came too close. No, she was not an innocent.
Her innocence had already been taken.
Without her consent.
He was certain of it.
Again, his stomach twisted into knots, burning red hot with rage, as he couldn’t help but picture the very moment in which her fears had been born. Had she been married before? Had her husband …?
Sebastian wasn’t sure if he wanted to know; yet, meeting her eyes, he knew that she would continue to walk through life with fear clutching at her heart if he could not find a way to restore her trust…at least in him. He needed her to trust him.
More than that. He wanted her to trust him.
The thought that his wife feared he would force himself on her stung like nothing else he had ever experienced. It was an insult to his decency, his honour, and yet, he could not fault her for it.
Collecting his thoughts, Sebastian took a step forward, holding up his hands, trying to assure her that he was no threat. “You’re right,” he said, and a hint of surprise came to her hazel eyes as she watched him. “We are strangers. We know almost nothing about each other.” Holding her gaze, he stopped an arm’s length away from her, waiting for her to grow accustomed to his nearness. When she took a deep breath and her shoulders relaxed, he continued, “But we’re also husband and wife.”
Instantly, she tensed.
Gritting his teeth, Sebastian forced himself to stay calm. “I want you to know that I did not ask for your hand merely to punish my father.” A soft smile came to his lips as he nodded, hoping that she would believe him. “When I first saw you that day out in the snow, I thought I saw something in your eyes that…that reminded me of myself. I thought there was a connection between us. I thought I’d finally found someone who could understand me.” He took a deep breath, feeling his own muscles relax as the expression in her eyes softened. “We may be strangers now, but I am hoping that we won’t be
for long.”
Gnawing on her lower lip, she looked up at him, her eyes studying his face, trying to determine if she could believe him. Then she took a deep breath and nodded.
A relieved smile came to his face. “Good.” Raking his mind, Sebastian wondered how to begin. Should he ask about her past? Her family? How she came to be near Farnworth Manor? Did she truly not remember? However, all these questions seemed much too intrusive and would certainly push her even farther away. Therefore, he decided to leave the choice to her what to tell him and what not.
“You can ask me anything you wish to know,” he said, “but for tonight, I would only ask you to tell me one thing about yourself. Anything. Just one detail.”
Still gnawing on her lower lip, she blinked before her eyes became distant. Then she met his gaze once more, fear and pain in her beautiful eyes. “I was betrothed once,” she whispered, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear. “He died in the war.”
So, not a husband. Sebastian thought. But a fiancée. Had he forced himself on her? Judging from the saddened expression in her eyes, Sebastian doubted it, but he could not be certain.
“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling encouraged that she would share such an intimate aspect of her life with him. “How long has it been?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “Three years,” she whispered, swallowing hard. “Three years.”
Seeing her misery, Sebastian’s heart ached to hold her, and before he knew what he was doing, he found himself reaching out for her.
Instantly, her eyes widened, and she shrank back, back pressed against the window.
Dropping his hands, he cursed his foolishness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I …” Raking his hands through his hair, he tried to think of a way to ease the tension between them. She believed that he wanted to bed her, and she was right. However, he would never do so without her consent, and she needed to know that. She needed to believe that.
Honesty, then.
“Listen,” he began, refusing to back away but equally standing his ground. “I want you to trust me, and so I will be honest with you. Completely honest.”