Page 44 of The Truth about the Rogue
“She is to be my wife. Of course I do not want her to always think poorly of me! Is that not reason enough?”
Lord Glenfield shrugged.
“You will not like my answer should I disagree with you, though I believe that you already know what it is.”
Andrew scowled.
“I have no affection for her, no interest that is steadily growing. I–”
“Yes, you do.” Lord Glenfield put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, looking back at him steadily. “You and I have been friends for many a year, and it would not be right of me to let this go without further conversation. My friend, youdohave a growing and steady affection for the lady. You say that you are battling between the desire to return to your life as you have been living it for so long and the thought of giving it all up and remaining devoted to Miss Hawick. You have found yourself physically withdrawing from those who once held you spellbound, no doubt with a sense of guilt welling up within you at a single touch from Lady Faustine!” He chuckled as Andrew winced. “I can assure you that the only reason you have that fight is because your heart is affected, whether you wish to admit it to yourself or not.” He lifted his hand, picked up his brandy, and smiled. “Now, I must return to my townhouse to prepare for the masquerade.” Finishing his brandy, he set the glass down on the table and gave Andrew a nod. “Excuse me, my friend. I will see you again very soon.”
Without giving Andrew the chance to respond, or the opportunity to argue against all that had been said, Lord Glenfield walked out of the room, leaving Andrew staring after him, his heart hammering furiously. Lord Glenfield had stated things very clearly indeed, but Andrew still fought against it, the desire to accept the fact that he might well have an interest – more than that, an affection – for the lady seemed to approachhim like a shadow that threatened to cover him completely. If he dared let himself believe it, then Andrew knew that every single thing in his life would change.
Dropping his head, Andrew pushed his fingers through his hair again, thinking back to how he had felt at the moment that he had come upon Miss Hawick in the garden. Had not his heart cried out? Had he not had the urge to sweep her up in his arms and confess that he no longer wanted to be a rogue, no longer desired attentions from any other than her?
And instead, he had stepped back, silencing himself, and hastened back to his carriage.
I have been a coward and a fool.
Making his way slowly back towards his writing desk, Andrew sat down again and picked up his quill. The words came more cautiously this time, but they came nonetheless until, finally, Andrew had his answer to the questions filling his heart.
Chapter Fifteen
“Ido not feel as though this mask is adequate enough, Mama.”
Charlotte said nothing, looking away as her sister fussed with the ribbons of the mask. Ever since the previous afternoon, she had lost herself in a pool of sorrow, embarrassment, and upset, made all the worse by the knowledge that Lord Kentmore had left the gardens the moment that she had looked at him, and had chosen, thereafter, neither to write to her nor come to call. She could not imagine what it was that he had thought upon hearing her speech. She could not bring herself to consider what he had thought of her statement about him. She had said so many things and yes, all of them were quite true, but all the same, she could not imagine what it was that he had felt in hearing her say them all so bluntly.
“Are you quite well, Charlotte?”
A little surprised, Charlotte looked at her mother as they waited in line to greet the host of the masquerade ball.
“Yes, Mama.”
“You have been rather quiet the last two days.”
Charlotte offered a vague smile.
“I have had something weighing on my mind, Mama, that is all.”
Lady Morton leaned closer to her.
“Might it be that Lord Kentmore is the one you think on? I have noticed his attentions to you becoming a little more determined, my dear.”
“I am sure that Lord Kentmore wishes to propose,” Lillian interjected, making Charlotte look at her sharply, though most of her expression was hidden from her sister, given the mask she was wearing. “And once he does, I think that Lord Glenfield shall also.”
“Lillian!” Their mother’s voice was a low hiss as she took hold of Lillian’s arm and pulled her closer. “Do keep your voice down! There are many nearby who would like nothing more than to whisper about all that you have said. Please, be a good deal more considered in your speech, whether it be true or not.”
“But itistrue,” Lillian protested, albeit in a much quieter voice. “Lord Glenfield has told me as much, though he has not yet spoken to Father. I know that he means to do so very soon.”
“Once Lord Kentmore has proposed?” Lady Morton whispered, sending a look towards Charlotte which made her tremble inwardly. “Then that must mean that he desires very much to betrothe himself to you, Charlotte! Has he made any indication of that as yet?”
Charlotte did not know what to say. Ought she to state that yes, she knew of Lord Kentmore’s intentions, even though it had not been spoken of between them as yet, or should she remain silent on the matter?
Her mother squeezed her hand.
“I shall not press you, my dear. I can see that there is something on your mind, but you do not wish to speak of it as yet. That is understandable. What passes between a gentleman and a lady he is courting ought, sometimes, to stay private.Though,” she continued, a bright smile spreading across her face, “if that is to be as your sister hopes, then I do hope that you will accept, Charlotte?”
“Of course I shall, Mama,” Charlotte answered, a little dully. “I have no reason not to.”
