A Passionate Endeavor (27 page)

“I see,” he replied, looking back and forth
between them. A long silence encroached. “And what have we here?”
he continued, pointing to the bust in front of her. He began
walking around the worktable. “You have decided to switch from
birds to humans?” he asked, looking again to Alexandre.

Charlotte threw a damp cloth over the figure,
hiding it from view, “Well, in fact, yes,” she said. “And I am not
to have the pleasure of studying your work?”

“No,” she said, looking down at her
tools.

“I see. But your dear cousin does have that
privilege,” he said, with a hard edge.

“Yes.”

“Well, I advise you to beware that he does
not claim any other sort of privilege, my dear. For if I cannot
demand fidelity, I can and will demand discretion.”

“It will be with the utmost discretion that
Charlotte and I continue to become reacquainted since our
childhood, my lord,” Alexandre said.

She longed to kick Alexandre and run from the
room. The two of them were behaving abominably. If she possessed a
witty bone in her body she was sure she would have been able to
turn the moment and have them all laughing at the ridiculous set of
circumstances.

She could feel Alexandre run his knuckles
along her jaw.

Nicholas bowed and left the room. Only the
sound of the outer door being slammed indicated the intensity of
his anger.

“How could you? How am I ever to make it
right? He has every right never to acknowledge me again.”

“How could I not,
cherie
? You will
thank me. You will see. If this does not get him into your, ahem,
culottes
, nothing will. Mark my words. And if it does fail,
I assure you, I will be pawing at your door in three nights’ time.
Now that you have been awakened to the pleasures of the flesh, we
cannot have you wilting again, can we?” He threw back his head and
laughed.

Three miserable days followed, in which
Nicholas remained as pokerfaced as Stevens the butler, and the
entire household at the abbey had become as depressed as the
never-ending rain. Charlotte looked out the window of the library
and could not decide if she felt more wretched because she missed
her father or because her brother had left. Deep down she knew it
was because of Nicholas. And try as she might to discourage
Alexandre’s continued witty remarks designed to further infuriate
her husband, her cousin seemed to redouble his efforts. But he was
the only one who paid any attention to her. Even Rosamunde was
listless and inattentive. And the infuriating guests at the abbey
continued to stay on.

Charlotte sighed. If the lot of them departed
as well as her well-intentioned cousin, Charlotte believed that she
had a small chance of forging a companionable if not loving
marriage. As it stood, Lady Susan had augmented her efforts at
securing Alexandre now that the heir was taken. And Alexandre
continued to cause havoc with flirtations in every corner, upstairs
and down.

The storms had effectively put a stop to the
small but constant flow of ill or injured neighbors to the cottage.
Charlotte had only been able to go see Mrs. Roberts, Owen’s wife,
who had been suffering from a mysterious illness for the last two
weeks.

Charlotte was sad and bored, unused to
idleness. She had sought the stillness and privacy of the library,
knowing no one in the abbey shared her ardor for books.

But there were no novels to be found to tempt
her. Only books of sermons, and history, and philosophy, all
subjects that had fascinated her until she had delved into the
forbidden pages of novels. Now she was insatiable. Nothing else
would do. She longed to step into the shoes of a bold heroine like
Elizabeth Bennett for several pleasurable hours.

Instead, she moved to the large desk and
looked at the tall ledgers before her. She opened the one nearest
to her and looked at the long rows of columns with dates, entries,
and numbers. She understood little other than the nature of the
simple entries. This one seemed to be filled with household
expenses. She opened another and another, until six ledgers
overspread the desk. She could not put her finger on it, but
something was not right. It wasn’t the numbers, or the dates. What
was it?

Startled, she looked up to encounter the
cold, hard gaze of Nicholas at the doorway.

“Good morning, my lord,” she said, not
knowing if she should rise to make a small curtsey or not.

“Good morning, Charlotte,” he replied in his
deep baritone voice, which had always made her insides constrict.
“I did not know you had an interest in estate management,” he said,
arching an eyebrow as he walked toward the desk.

“I do not, but I couldn’t find any book to
interest me.”

“So, naturally, you began reviewing
Wyndhurst’s ledgers?”

“I did not know they were forbidden to
members of the family.” She hated to sound defensive. “But then, I
am not really a proper member of the family, am I?”

“I suppose you consider our vows before God
quite meaningless, then? But then I forget, a learned member of the
scientific world might hold different views. Especially one who has
a handsome cousin to turn her pretty head.” He looked angry now.
“Ah, but you have deftly changed the subject. Why are you reviewing
the ledgers? Do you not trust our family to ensure the proper care
of this estate?”

“The real question is, do you? And if you do,
then why?” she asked. “Something is obviously very wrong. Why do we
eat like kings when there are entire families starving not a mile
from the elegant gates of the abbey? These are people who have
depended on the dukedom for generations. And why are all the
habitations so poorly maintained?”

Once she began, she couldn’t seem to stop the
torrent of accusations pouring from her. She knew he was not to
blame, but she had to hurt him. His continual refusal to touch her,
even kiss her, something he had done before they had married, hurt
her deeply. “I know you are trying to remedy some of the problems
by starting the brewery, and the flock of sheep, as well as the
other plans. But it is not enough, Nicholas. There are too many
families, too many problems that need to be addressed and
corrected. You are responsible for them, not your father, and
certainly not your horrid brother or Her Grace. Tell me you are not
using your family’s ridiculous claims of your intellectual
inferiority to stop you? You are one of the most brave and
intelligent gentlemen of my acquaintance. Just because you can’t
read as well as other people doesn’t mean you can relinquish your
role as leader of your family.” There, she had said it. The things
that could not be said. That should not be said to the man she
loved if she had any desire for him to return her love.

“And that is what you think of me? By your
account my actions are reprehensible indeed.”

Almost the same words Darcy had said in
response to Eliza Bennett’s spurning of his proposal. But she had
not Eliza’s backbone.

“Yes, and no,” she replied, looking away from
him. And then in a rush, “Oh, don’t you see? You could do so much
more—”

“More?” he interrupted her. “You think I
should do more? I have served my king and my country, obeyed my
father, tried to provide as well as I could for our neighbors with
the means that I possess, and married you. What more do you want? I
will never be able to live up to your standards, Charlotte.”

She drew in her breath sharply, in pain. “I
realize the honor you paid me by marrying me, and providing for me.
But, you must remember that I tried to tell you it was not
necessary, that I could provide well enough for myself. My defenses
were weakened over the shock of my father’s death when I acquiesced
to your plan. I wish now that I had not. And by the by, I am sorry
you feel the need to live up to my standards. I never intended my
words to be taken that way.”

“Well, I think enough has been said. I am
sorry to have intruded. Perhaps it would be better if you did not
take it upon yourself to review the ledgers again. And I will
consider a plan that will alleviate the need for us to be under
each other’s inspection.”

With that he was gone, and Charlotte threw
herself into the leather high-backed chair. With an anger seldom
expressed, she slammed the ledgers closed and rearranged them on
the edge of the desk as tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. She
must leave this horrible, depressing place. Nicholas not only
pitied her now, he hated her.

She was so tired of it all. She missed her
father and her brother. Worst of all, she couldn’t bear the sadness
within these walls, the loneliness, or rather, the aloneness she
suffered despite Nicholas’s presence and all the others. She must
find Alexandre and beg him to take her away to London. Her cousin
would find inexpensive lodgings for her until she could form a more
suitable long-term proposition.

She could go back to her original idea of
caring for an older lady. She did not think she could accept her
husband’s offer of the use of his elegant town house, not when she
had criticized his actions so thoroughly. She could not feel
beholden to him. She would not play the hypocrite.

There were very few items to pack in her old
trunk Aside from the beloved yellow gown, wrapped in tissue, and
the two serviceable day gowns, Charlotte had nothing else save two
mourning gowns, the bust of her mother and several drawings she had
sketched of her father and brother. She would arrange for the
medical books to be sent to her in London when she had permanent
living quarters. She would leave all her other books behind. Even
the novels. Especially the novels.

It had been two days since Charlotte had last
seen Nicholas in the library. He had made himself as scarce as he
had promised in anger. The words were imprinted in her memory:
“
I will consider a plan that will alleviate the need for us to
be under each other’s inspection
.”

She would not force him from his father’s
deathbed. She would leave. It had all been settled yesterday with
Alexandre. He had left for London last night, and she would follow
tomorrow. Surprisingly, he had been most willing to follow
Charlotte’s plans.

“La Susanne has become
insupportable
.
Her diamonds are quite beautiful, yes, but she has become the most
clinging little barnacle. All hope of frolic and amusement in
Wiltshire evaporated when she banished her delightful maid. I
suppose the description of a
ménage a trois
was too much for
her.” Alexandre had left with a kiss and a smile. “
Ma petite
cousine
, you are not to worry another moment. I shall make you
the gay duchess-to-be in town, whom everyone will be dying to meet.
And we will live quite well with the funds your fusty, cold husband
shall provide.”

She had not had the heart or the nerve to
tell him that she had no intention of entering the social whirl,
much less accepting a tuppence from her husband.

A knock sounded at her bedchamber door.

The formidable form of Nicholas’s grandmother
brushed past and ensconced herself on a sturdy chair with what
seemed to be a grim determination to remain fixed there for a long
duration.

“It is as I thought, then,” the older lady
said, glancing at the trunk. “You are determined to leave him and
ruin whatever chance of happiness this family had.”

Charlotte took a deep breath, and continued
to pack her nightclothes as well as her brush and pins. “I am sorry
you have formed such an ill opinion of me, Your Grace.”

“I have no ill opinion of you—only of your
nitwit behavior. Don’t tell me you subscribe to that silly notion
that absence makes the heart grow fonder? Stuff of willy-nilly
poets that is. If you leave, ten to one he will fall in with the
duchess’s fondest wish and never see you or anyone else in the
abbey again. He will flee to battle if he can find a war to fight
in.”