Page 30 of The Truth about the Rogue
“What can be done?”
Walking up to the window of his study and looking out at the street below, Andrew took in the carriages and the passers-by, knowing full well that most of them would be speaking of his connection to Miss Hawick. Lord Glenfield had been the one to inform him that thetonwas now full of whisperings and the like about his courtship of the lady – with some questioning whether or not he really meant it – and that had brought Andrew no pleasure whatsoever. Instead, he had shrunk back from it, deciding to hide himself away for a short while, simply so that he could avoid theton’s scrutiny – though it could not be avoided forever.
Closing his eyes, Andrew dropped his head to the glass of the window, feeling the cool sensation of it against his skin. In only a few days, his entire life had been altered. That had been the consequences of his own actions but, at the same time, it had pulled Miss Hawick in with him. She’d had no say in the matter, had been forced into this marriage because of what he had done – and she was broken-hearted over it.
Andrew lifted his head from the glass, disliking the fact that his heart was so pained over the lady. He did not want to be affected by her, did not want to find himself troubled because of her sadness and yet, he could not help it. What was worse was that, yes, she did not want to marry him, but he recognized that it was because of his character, because of who he was, that she was so sorrowful. He was not a kind fellow, he was not a considerate or generous sort. What she had leveled at him during their brief conversation at the soiree had been quite true, hewasselfish and arrogant, thinking of no one but himself. Having any thoughts of others, or permitting himself to be concerned about them, was not something which he had ever dwelt upon.
But now, he was being forced to.
Sighing, Andrew turned around and made his way back to the middle of the drawing-room, flinging himself down onto one of the couches, only to rise again and shove one hand through his hair. Why could he not forget about her? Why was it that her sadness had such an effect on him? It was not as though he could do anything about it now, it was not as if he would be able to change their circumstances. She was to be courted by him, he would soon propose, and they would, once the banns had been called, wed.
But I could attempt to be a little kinder. More considerate. She is to be my wife, after all! Are we always to be this fraught? Or could I, in accepting this, in acceptingher, try to be more thoughtful of her emotions? Yes, she sees me as I truly am… might there be a way where I could change that. Would that not make for a better relationship between us? After all, if I am to take her as my wife, I must be considering our future.
He swallowed as a tightness came into his throat, thinking of his future. What would it be like to have her by his side, always sorrowful, always broken-hearted, always despondent?I do not think I could bear it,he thought to himself, raking his other hand through his hair, fully aware it now was a wild mop rather than carefully placed.I may not like this circumstance, but I do not want Charlotte to be sorrowful every day of our marriage.
Andrew dropped his hand back to his side, acknowledging to himself that he could certainly attempt to be a little more amiable in his interactions with her, instead of letting his frustration and upset rule his tongue. With a scowl, he found his legs taking him to his writing desk and, sitting down, put his hand to the quill.
He did not know what it was that he wanted to write. All he could see was Miss Hawick’s blue eyes filled with tears as she looked back at him, the single teardrop falling to her cheek. The pain in her eyes, the sadness in her expression, and thebrokenness of her heart cried out to him. Dipping the quill into the ink, the words began to flow.
Weariness haunts your inner soul,
The pain of a heart shattered.
My cold fingers placed it there,
Stealing away your joy.
Purposeless or purposeful,
Our path remains the same.
We are bound and we are tied,
Never again to be free.
There is no respite from the pain,
Your heart is heavy still.
I own it all, my regret severe,
The darkness like my shadow.
He liftedthe quill and blinked, staring down at the words on the page. He had never written anything like that before, had never once merely opened his heart and let it speak. Those words were the very story going on with his heart, the description of all he was feeling. Closing his eyes, Andrew took a breath and then, after a moment, continued to write.
“Miss Hawick, Lady Morton, Miss Hawick.”
Andrew inclined his head as the lady to whom he was paying his attentions descended from the carriage, though she did not look up into his face. Rather, she kept her gaze to the left, bobbing a curtsey as she did so.
“Good afternoon, Lord Kentmore.” Perhaps catching the way that Lady Morton lifted one eyebrow very carefully, Miss Hawick continued quickly, though there was no hint of happiness ineither her expression or her voice. “It was very kind of you to invite me out for a walk through St James’ Park.”
“We are courting now, Miss Hawick, are we not?” Andrew offered her his arm, giving a smile to Lady Morton who returned it with a nod, as though to say that she trusted him with her daughter, as Miss Lillian Hawick simply smiled. “I must spend as much time with you as I can.”
Lady Morton beamed at him with this remark though Miss Hawick did not respond, aside from taking his arm. Together, they strolled into the park a little more, with Lady Morton and her other daughter following after them a short distance away.
“You say such pretty things in front of my mother while, at the very same time, giving no clear explanation to me as to why you have been absent from society for almost a sennight!” Miss Hawick’s voice was low, but there was a hint of upset in it. “I have had many a person coming to speak to me about my courtship and they have asked me where you are, given that you have not been present, and I have had no answer to give them!”
Shame flung itself in Andrew’s face.
