Page 7 of A Lady’s Fairytale Come True
But Mr. Norton could easily consume the thoughts of any young woman. She didn’t know if it was merely his unexpected kindness or the way his eyes had held such depths that caught her so off guard.
And those freckles. On a woman, they were the sign of too much sun. But on a man, as rarely as she had seen them, they were exquisite.
She knew she would never see him again, but Nathaniel Norton would remain forever in Olivia’s mind.
Chapter 4
Leaning back in the chair for a moment, Nathaniel allowed himself an exhale of breath. The pen was weighty in his hand and it was difficult to write this letter to Miss Hawthorne.
Yes, Miss Hawthorne. The young woman he had been committed to from an early age. She would soon be eligible for the marriage that had been arranged by their parents all those years ago. She would have made a perfect match by all of society’s standards.
But Nathaniel didn’t love her. He couldn’t bring himself to see her as anything more than the woman he was expected to wed. Certainly, she was not what he would have sought for himself in a wife.
Guilt shrouded him. He knew that ending the engagement was a slap to his father’s memory. But to marry a woman he could not love? That would be dishonourable to Miss Hawthorne.
She was a beautiful woman with many attributes. And while none of them allured Nathaniel, he thought it unfair to prevent her from finding a husband who would appreciate who she was, the parts of her that would be easy for another man to care for.
He leaned forward and placed his pen back to the paper, scrawling words to share with her how he felt, how he cared for her, but not in the way that mattered. He was honest, but also kind.
An end to the engagement. An end to what had been arranged so long ago.
Correspondence had always passed between them, it had been their primary method of communication. But never had he ended a letter with such a sad goodbye, such a mournful honesty.
And yet Nathaniel knew that he would have to send it. He read over it once more.
My Dear Miss Hawthorne,
I thank you for your last letter. It warmed my heart to read your words and I am reminded of all the plans that were made for us once, long ago.
As you are aware, my father’s passing has grieved me. I had not yet ceased to mourn my mother when he was so suddenly taken from me as well. The pain that has overwhelmed me in the midst of this is unbearable. It is an unshakeable agony that no son wishes to inherit.
You are also, no doubt, aware that my father and I were quite close. There are a great many fathers in positions similar to that which my father bore who do not engage closely with their children.
My father was not one of those. No, rather he was a good man, a kind father, and a noble husband to my mother.
I wish to be such a husband to the woman that I marry. And to that end, it pains me to write you this letter, to tell you that I must end our engagement.
It was the wish of both our parents that we might wed, and as such, I always anticipated that it would come to pass. However, in the midst of this loss, I have been forced to accept a truth that I had long denied. I cannot love you as you ought to be loved. I cannot be the husband you are so deserving of.
I must beg your forgiveness. You are worth such a great deal of affection and I have no doubt that you shall find the sort of spouse you ought to spend your life with.
Please know that I shall take on all suspicion or gossip for the ending of our engagement. I understand that the reputation of young women is often called into question and it is my greatest intent to ensure that you are not affected in this manner. I have to end this because my grief has opened my eyes to the reality of our situation. It is not anything you have done. It is my own heart that has been false.
I can no longer pursue our engagement, but I shall always be grateful for the time that we were friends, the time that we were close. I wish you all the greatest for the future and I look forward to hearing more about the joys of your life ahead.
May you always be given the goodness that you deserve.
Your friend,
Nathaniel Norton, Earl of Glauston
It was all he had to say. Painful, difficult, and deeply important. But he had it written and this was the goal he had been trying to complete.
A knock came to the door of Nathaniel’s study and he called for the maid to enter.
“My lord, shall I call for the coach?” she asked.
Nathaniel knew it was nearly time for him to leave. He checked the clock once again, just to be sure, and realised that he did, indeed, have only a small window of time.
