Page 105 of Not his Marchioness
He nodded. “Although we care for one another as though we had known one another for years, we have only been in each other’s lives for a few months. I know which books you like to read, and I know how you take your tea, and what time you go to bed. But still, you do not know how I would react to certain situations.
“There is much we have yet to learn about one another. And I want that. I want to learn about you. I want to know every part of you. I want us to grow so close that nothing can ever come between us again, to trust each other blindly.”
“I want that too,” she murmured. “I cannot tell you how much. It hurts me that a fool like Lord Emery could drive a wedge between us.”
“It was not just him,” he said. “Lizzie suspects one of the men at her establishment. I sent word to the establishment in St. Giles when I would be arriving. Someone must have intercepted that message and told Emery, so he could trick you into going there at the same time.”
She nodded. “Such a weasel he is. But he will not win. I do not want him to succeed in doing what he set out to do.”
“And he will not,” he assured, stepping closer. He took her hand, and a shiver went through her. “When I returned home and found you gone, a sense of solitude gripped me—the same feeling I had when I lost my parents and my brother. But I knew I had to fight through it.”
He took a deep breath before continuing. “I knew I had to find you and explain. I admit I hesitated on the way here. I almost turned back and accepted defeat. But I learned that sometimes pain is the price we must pay for love. If it fails or leaves us, it can leave us with a darkness within. But when it succeeds, when we find love, it can drive out any darkness.
“I did not understand that before. I ran away all these months. I know that I have vexed you, but it was all because I could not allow myself to love again—though my heart had other ideas. It has already loved you for a long while.”
There it was. He had said it now. He loved her.
She looked up at him. “My heart has been quite treacherous as well. It has insisted on beating for you from the beginning. In fact, there were times when my body would refuse to obey me. It was as if it sought you out, wished to be near you, even though my head fought against it.”
He chuckled. “I have felt much the same. You and I are more alike than we realize.”
“That is true,” she agreed. “No words can capture it. I do not know what to say. I feel dreadful for running away and not speaking to you, but I am grateful that you came after me and found me.” Her voice lowered. “The truth is, I was petrified.”
“One never would have known,” he said. “You looked quite defiant when I arrived. Uncomfortable but defiant.”
“Well, I am glad for it. I felt anything but. Tell me, when you found me just now, why did you speak to me in the way you did when we first met? With such bravado and wit.”
“Because I wanted to remind you of how things were when we first found one another. You quite enjoyed our conversations, even if they were at times… combative.”
“I did.” She nodded. “You have always challenged me. And while it put me in high dudgeon at times, I did enjoy that we could challenge one another, and I want to keep doing that—perhaps less combatively. But I love that you make me question myself, that you make me think. So often in my life, I have simply acted without thinking first—like tonight. But I feel with you, I grow more and more into the person I wish to be.”
“I feel the same way. You have made me better. You have made me face parts of myself that I wanted to shut away forever. But you would not let me. Thanks to you, I know I can be the sort of person—the sort of man—that my parents would have been proud of. Charlotte, I love you, and I never want to lose you. Will you come home with me? Will you be my wife in every sense of the word, from now until the end of our days?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “I will. I love you, too.”
Rhys smiled and leaned forward, and they kissed—for the very first time without secrets or deceit between them. And as they parted and made their way back to the carriage, Charlotte knew that this was a new beginning for the two of them.
From now on, nothing would come between them.
EPILOGUE
Six months had passed since Charlotte had first dreamed aloud of a school for children, and now the reality stood before her like a promise kept.
The school would open its doors this very morning to its first cohort of students.
The delays—structural repairs, broken windows, uneven floors—had finally been conquered. The old sanctuary had been transformed. Its lofty ceilings now held four classrooms, their walls freshly painted in soft creams and warm pastels. Two rooms had been converted into teachers’ lodgings, modest but comfortable. The kitchen had been equipped, and maids had been hired to prepare meals for the fifty pupils who were already enrolled.
Outside, the gardens were a display of care. Flowerbeds framed winding paths, the air scented with marigolds. A swing set stood in the courtyard, and a small room had been built to allow for indoor play during rainy afternoons.
The school was not simply a building; it was a promise of hope, of education, of opportunity. A promise Charlotte was determined to keep.
Lady Woodhaven had played an essential role in bringing her vision to life.
Charlotte felt a deep fondness for the older woman now, an affection that went beyond gratitude. They had spent countless afternoons planning, measuring, and discussing the curriculum. And when Charlotte had timidly suggested that education might also be extended to adult women in St. Giles, Lady Woodhaven had lent her support without hesitation.
Though her standing prevented her from being as hands-on as Charlotte had hoped, she had offered ideas, encouragement, and connections.
It was Rhys who had first suggested that some women ended up in those establishments through no fault of their own. A lack of education, poor upbringing, and bad luck often conspired to trap them in their situations for good.
