Page 99 of Not his Marchioness
Lady Woodhaven stood next to Charlotte and placed one hand on her shoulder. It reminded Charlotte of the way Rhys had placed his hand on her shoulder the first time they had met Lady Woodhaven.
How strange it had felt back then, to have his hand on her shoulder, comforting her, as though they had been close from the beginning. Now, it felt the same way with Lady Woodhaven. But why? It should not.
The tea came soon enough, and Lady Woodhaven walked with a little sway to the sideboard, picking up a bottle of sherry. She unscrewed it, splashed some into the tea, and slid the cup over to Charlotte.
“Now, you drink that. And take off your cloak,” she said, removing it for her. She draped it over another chair, then pushed Charlotte closer to the fireplace. “Now, tell me. What is the matter?”
“I cannot tell you,” Charlotte croaked.
It was true, she could not. She did not even know where to begin. Besides, up until now, Lady Woodhaven believed what everybody else did—that Charlotte and Rhys had been happily married, the tale of star-crossed lovers.
What would she say if she found out that everything had been a pretense? Would she withdraw her support from the school?
“Why do you think you cannot tell me? I assume this has something to do with your husband?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes, but I cannot tell you?—”
Lady Woodhaven leaned back, crossing her legs at the ankles, her fingernails drumming on the armrests of the wooden chair. “Does this have something to do with his rakish ways? Did your marriage fall apart under the weight of all that pretense?”
Charlotte looked up, her mouth hanging open. “How did you know?”
Lady Woodhaven shrugged. “Please. Your story had more holes than a Swiss cheese. First, you pronounced yourself unwilling to marry Lord Emery—in the most public display, might I remind you—and then suddenly, days later, we are to believe that you and Lord Ravenscar were engaged in a torrid love affair that your father opposed, and which in turn caused you to make such commotion? And, most conveniently, right when my husband and his fellow zealots were pushing the younger lords to reform themselves?”
Charlotte gasped. “Does everybody know?”
Lady Woodhaven scoffed. “I think not. Certainly not the men. In fact, I am absolutely certain that the men do not know. My husband, for example, thought it most romantic. But he has always been a fool. These gentlemen think they are wise, that they run the country with their infinite wisdom and sage advice to the Prince Regent, who, of course, thinks himself the cleverest man in the entire room. In reality, it is we women who steer things. Not all of us. As much as I adore my fellow ladies, they are not exactly the sharpest…” She shrugged.
“But if you knew all along, why did you accept my invitation for tea? Why have you helped me? Why become a?—”
“I told you. Young blood is sometimes just what we need. Besides, you remind me of myself. Do you think I have always been this resolute battleship of a woman? No. I was naïve andfull of ideas, wanting to change the world. And I did, in some ways. I used my influence in ways you would not even know. But I have grown complacent. I know what people think of me—that I am this conservative stalwart of a woman who supports her husband no matter what. And I have, in many ways. As far as my husband thinks, I support him in all things. But he does not notice that often he does my bidding.”
Charlotte blinked, momentarily forgetting her own troubles.
“Lord Woodhaven is a good man. Devoted to King—or shall I say Prince Regent—and country. But when it comes to politics, he is not always the wisest. So I advise him. And when he takes my advice, it is because deep down, he knows that I know better. But in any case, you have reminded me of how I used to be. Much more idealistic. I am determined to make a change in bigger ways than I have been able to. That is part of why I agreed to help you establish the school. If it were up to my husband only… Your husband and mine think that they made this happen. But the truth is, it was the two of us.”
Lady Woodhaven paused for a moment, then continued. “That’s why I am helping you. Because you remind me of my younger self. Anyway, even now, you sit there, looking like something freshly plucked out of water. Let me guess—you and Ravenscar thought that if you got married, it would solve all your problems. He could establish himself as a proper gentleman, you could fix your reputation, and get away from that silly father of yours. And then you fell in love, only for him to revert to his old ways. He never quit them.”
Charlotte nodded. “I did not mean to fall in love with him, but it happened. He has helped me so much with the school. He found the buildings. He has supported me. But all this time, I felt as though we were engaged in a tug of war. Getting closer, then falling apart. But these last few weeks have been almost magical. Real.”
“Until…?” Lady Woodhaven prompted, tilting her head to the side.
“Until I discovered that he broke his promise. He has not stopped going to St. Giles and—” Charlotte looked up. “Please, do not tell your husband. It would ruin Rhys’s reputation. He has fought so hard, and many people depend on him.”
“I will not tell my husband anything. In fact, I thought this crusade to go after the younger lords was foolish, to begin with.”
Charlotte took a deep breath. She knew she had to talk to somebody; it was too much of a burden to bear.
And so she did. She told Lady Woodhaven everything. From the way their marriage had started to the way it had been an up-and-down battle ever since, up until that day.
Lady Woodhaven pursed her lips and shook her head. “I always say that no person is beyond redemption, nor beyond change. But sometimes such a thing takes longer than we would like.”
“I understand that it can take a long time. But what bothers me is that he lied to me. He swore to me that he had not gone to St. Giles, that he had not kept company with any woman. And now I find out that he has gone there,” Charlotte scoffed. “It is ridiculous, really. This story mirrors that of my sister, Evelyn.”
“Oh?” Lady Woodhaven raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“Nathaniel, my brother-in-law, was also something of a rake. Perhaps not a true rake, but he never expected to inherit the dukedom and therefore did not take his future role very seriously. When he and Evelyn got married, he found himself rather in love with her, but he did not tell her. And she did not tell him that she felt the same. When they had just found their way to one another, my father lied to her and told her that he had seen Nathaniel at Westcott. You are familiar with it?”
Lady Woodhaven grimaced. “Of course. That wretched club.”
