Page 104 of Not his Marchioness
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“Charlotte, I’m sorry for how things unfolded. I should have explained. I should have taken you into my confidence.”
“Take me into your confidence? What in the world does that mean? You told me that you had not been to the rookeries in a long time, not since we met. And then I find you not only lying to me.”
He nodded. “Yes. It is true.” He sat down in front of her. “I did lie about where I was going. But it was not for the reasons you think. You see, I received a letter the day before our Christmas celebration. The letter claimed that one of the women I used to keep company with had a gravely ill child and that she had no one else to turn to. The letter implied that the child was mine.”
“Is it your child?”
“No. I have no children. In fact, there is no child. The letter was written in such a way as to imply it, but did not claim it outright. In any case, the letter pleaded with me to help her. I felt compelled to at least investigate. I arranged for a time to meet with her.”
“Tonight,” she said.
“Yes. I wanted to see if it was true—if there was a child, and whose child it was, and how ill they were. I considered tellingyou, but I thought that if I arrived and found it was all a lie, I would have upset you for nothing.”
She nodded. Somehow, she believed him. She was not quite sure why or how, but she did. He made sense. And he’d received a mysterious letter, just as she did.
“And when you got there, you found out that the letter was full of lies?”
“I did. The woman was there, and I spoke to her. But she assured me that she had no child and that she was quite well. In fact, she had recently bought the establishment I used to frequent. I showed her the letter, and she confirmed it was not written in her hand. Although she told me that she had recently run afoul of a certain gentleman we both know.”
“Emery.” Her blood ran cold.
“The very same. I suppose he caused quite a scene in her establishment, which she did not like, and she kicked him out, never to return. I believe he used her name to draw me there.” Rhys looked at her. “Charlotte, why did you decide to follow me tonight of all nights? I assume you do not make a habit of it.”
“No,” she said. “Because at the beginning, I did not care enough what you did or did not do, so long as you did not ruin our reputations. And since we have had our conversation, I trusted you enough not to.”
He nodded. “So what was different tonight?”
She took a deep breath as a puzzle piece fell into place. “I, too, received a letter. From an anonymous person. I assume it was Emery. The letter told me that everything Emery told me about you was true.”
Charlotte paused, realizing that he did not know what she was speaking of.
“At the most recent ball, Emery tried to plant doubts in my head, saying that he had seen you in the rookeries many times recently. But he is a hateful man, and thus I did not believe him. However, when the letter arrived, telling me that I could see for myself, doubt crept in. You had been acting so distantly over the Christmas period, and I thought perhaps you were regretful of our decision to remain together.”
“No, Charlotte. I could never regret vowing to be with you. Charlotte, I—” Rhys paused, and she knew that he had almost saidI love you.
She longed to hear it, longed to hear him confirm his feelings for her. But at the same time, she was almost grateful he had not said it now, because this was not the time.
So she gave a nod. “I decided that I would do as the letter suggested—see for myself. I thought if I followed you, and you and Gideon only went to his father’s house as you’d said, then I would know that I could trust you. But if you went to St. Giles, then I would have the answers as well. So I put on my ridingcloak and followed you. And you went where I hoped you would not go.”
Rhys nodded. “And you saw me.”
“Yes…”
“I cannot blame you for your actions. Perhaps I would have done the same thing, had I been in your shoes. In a way, I did. I did not tell you because I wanted to see for myself first,” he sighed. “But you must believe me. I was lured there by a lie, just as you were. Do you still have the letter? I thought perhaps we could compare the hands.”
He pulled out his letter and handed it to her. She took it, their fingers touching for a split second before she yanked her hand away.
“I burned it,” she admitted as she unfolded his. Then, with a sigh, she nodded. “It is in the same hand. Does he really hate us so much?”
“It is not so much about hate,” he said. “It is more than that. He could not get what he wanted, which was you. Therefore, he decided to ruin our marriage. If he could not have you, then I could not either. And if you would not consent to being his wife, then he would make certain you were miserable.”
Silence fell between them.
“I should have told you the truth. As soon as I received that letter, I should have told you.”
“I understand why you did not. Why, I cannot tell you how I would have reacted. Hearing such news can be most upsetting.” She paused. “I must ask for your forgiveness, too. For not coming to you. For not waiting for you to return to listen to your explanation.”
