Page 14 of The Wilful Widow
Like in the old days.
When they’d been young and carefree.
When Alexander had been unencumbered while Charlotte had declared she soon would be.
But she’d reneged. Or been persuaded to follow through with her original match which, lord knew, was a good deal more sensible than a rash elopement with Alexander.
Of course, things were different now. Alexander had more than a modest living. He could keep a wife in a good deal of comfort.
But Lord Ashbrook, once again, was another suitor who could offer more than Alexander. With a title and estate that had made him the catch of many seasons, he also could lavish jewels and clothes upon Charlotte with a degree of largesse that defied Alexander.
Perhaps that had always been more important to Charlotte than she’d led him to believe. Perhaps she’d been so caught up in youthful excess during their three days in the small provincial town where they’d met, buthad quickly forgotten him as soon as Alexander had left?
Now, as he glanced at the neat lineup of lotions and brushes and other beauty aids on her dressing table, Alexander was assailed by a terrible sense of loss and longing.
It was unconscionable that he was here. He should never have agreed when he knew Beatrice had no idea of the wrongness of a gentleman entering a lady’s bedchamber.
And what if Lord Ashbrook happened to be passing and saw him enter her room? What a terrible risk.
So why had Charlotte let him?
The kist was at the bottom of the bed, and when he raised the lid and saw Beatrice’s party dress on top, he couldn’t resist taking a lingering look at Charlotte’s clothes. If they’d been husband and wife, he’d have been familiar with everything about her. Now, as he saw some of the sober garments, he wished he could have suggested a coloring that did more for her vibrancy. Perhaps, if she’d been married to him, that’s what she’d have chosen besides. Something that reflected her joy in life. For the sober garments stacked here suggested a woman very different from the zestful creature Alexander remembered.
Or, indeed, the woman she was portrayed.
* * *
Charlotte and Beatricewere no longer on the stairs when Alexander returned, but when he was crossing the conservatory Jessamine appeared and, glancing at Beatrice’s dress, said brightly, “So you’ve followed through on your promise. You’ve certainly won yourself another admirer.”
“In addition to you?” He stopped. “Whydoyou admire me?” He’d never thought to ask.
The question seemed to catch Jessamine by surprise, also.
She fingered the frond of a hothouse palm and said reflectively, “I’ve never considered anyone else.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “We grew up next to each other. Papa always said we’d make a good match. And,” she smiled, “you are a very nice man.”
“A very nice man,” he repeated.
Hurriedly she added, “And I’m dreadfully fond of you, Alexander. Both Mama and Papa agree that’s a far better basis for marriage than some wild fancy.”
For some reason, Alexander felt emotion clutch at his entrails.
“Yes, constant and dependable. I suppose that’s what I’ve been. We know each other so well. You’ve always known it would come to this, I suppose. We both have.” Yes, it had been inevitable from the start. So why had he imagined all those years ago it could be any different? This had been his destiny from the moment since their parents had spoken hopefully of a union that would unite both families, despite their age difference.
“Not always. There was one time I had my doubts.”
Surprised, he raised his eyebrows, inviting her to elaborate. She was twisting the end of her shawl as if weighing up whether to say more. Only when he prompted her, saying, “When did you have doubts, Jessamine?” did she say, “It was such a long time ago, you’d not remember. I barely do, so it doesn’t matter.” She sent him another of her guileless looks.
But it did matter. A long time ago seemed like only yesterday right now.
“I’m intrigued. I can’t imagine what I might have done to have made you think my interest was diverted.”
“Oh, it was long before I was out of the schoolroom, but I knew you just had to wait for me. I knew that if you could just see me as a fully fledged debutante, a proper grownup, that our future together would be assured.” Her dimples popped out. “You’d been at some spa town for a visit, and I overheard Mama telling Papa you’d quite lost your heart to someone.”
He didn’t know how to respond.
