Page 10 of The Widow of Falbrooke Court (Ladies of Devon 3)

Chapter 4

Mrs. Halpert had been settled into Falbrooke Court for two days, and Charles had remained away, despite his wish to check on the widow. She was in perfectly capable hands—those of a doctor, for heaven’s sake. She could not be anywhere better suited to maintain her health.

Charles tapped his fingers against the mantelpiece in his drawing room, his vision blurring over the depicted landscape hanging over the fireplace. His mind was far away from Sheffield House, though his feet remained sturdily on his own carpet. Regardless of his efforts, remaining away from Falbrooke Court did not keep thoughts of Amelia from his mind, and he was going mad with the desire to see her. But what could he do?

He crossed to the window, wishing for answers about Mrs. Halpert’s wellbeing, but hesitant to travel to Falbrooke himself to appease his concern. His house rang empty around him, the stillness only broken by the faint noises of a servant moving about upstairs. He had the desire to unburden his thoughts, to seek counsel from a trusted friend, but who could he speak to about this? Not Andrew, certainly. And his cousin Mabel was a two-hour ride away. He would not be able to make it home before dark if he was to leave now, and he had promised the remaining tenant farmers, Jennings and Rogers, that he would meet them at the vale early the next morning to begin construction on a fourth cottage. They intended to bring another family the men knew to Graton when the cottage was ready. Charles’s uncle Captain Sheffield awaited word that the cottage was ready.

Of course, there was always Nick Pepper. They’d developed a friendship over the last few months, spending time together as Charles needed help learning the details of estate management. Nick had been inordinately helpful and had thus far proven to be a valuable friend. Besides, the man was married, so surely he understood women far better than Charles did.

Hopefully, Nick would not be opposed to offering advice in this quarter. Well, there was only one way to find out. Decided, Charles went for his riding clothes, changed quickly, and ordered his horse to be saddled.

Approaching the large castle Nick and his wife, Giulia, and their uncle Lord Hart called home, Charles puffed up his cheeks. It was pathetic that he was still smitten with Amelia after so many years of rejection and distance, thoughts of her running through his mind constantly. But hope shone in the recesses of his mind, perilously perched on the edge of his consciousness, that he would find a way to overcome his feelings—that Nick could lead him to discovering how.

Leaving his horse with a groom, he followed the butler into the vast, darkly paneled library. He removed his hat, nodding to Nick.

“Good day, Charles. How did the planting go in the east field?” Nick indicated the sofa across from him, and Charles took the seat before stretching his legs and crossing his ankles over the thick, burgundy rug.

“Smoothly. We got the work done before scheduled and can start on the new tenant cottage in the vale.”

Nick’s green eyes sharpened. “Do you need another set of hands?”

Nick wished to help build a cottage? The offer surprised Charles, but he would not dissuade his friend from providing additional help. “If you can spare the time, then yes.”

“Robert won’t like it above half, but I need to do something with my hands.” He shook his head. “I’m about to go mad with all this waiting.”

A grin spread over Charles’s lips. “When has Lord Hart’s disapproval ever stopped you before? Besides, no one can blame your need for distraction. How long is it until you get to meet your child, anyway?”

Nick dragged a hand through his dark blond hair. “A few weeks…maybe more than a month. One never knows with these things, according to Dr. Mason.”

“Then you are welcome to pass your days with me in the vale. Another set of hands will make the work lighter.”

Nick looked relieved. “When do we begin?”

“Tomorrow after sunrise.”

He nodded. “I will be there.”

Charles chuckled. “There is nothing like a solid day’s work to rid your mind of worries.” He paused. Perhaps that was all he needed as well. To never cease working.

Nick narrowed his gaze. “Are you worried about something? I know you did not come here just to ask for my help with the building. What is troubling you?”

“You are astute.”

“I am married. It has sharpened my senses.”

Charles laughed. Now that he was there, seated across from Nick, he was apprehensive. The idea of unveiling his unrequited feelings for Amelia to the last man in the county who didn’t already know of his situation was altogether pathetic. What would his friend think of him?

“Nothing. I only…” He cleared his throat. “It was nothing.”

Nick’s eyebrows drew together, and he sat up in his seat. “Please, man. I could use the distraction.”

“It’s rather embarrassing.”

Nick grinned. “All the better.”

Charles barked out a laugh. “Very well.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he hesitated before speaking, his words measured and careful. “I have been in love with Amelia Fawn for my entire life, but my feelings have never been returned.” He glanced up to gauge his friend’s reaction and found Nick listening intently, a serious expression on his face. It emboldened him to continue. “I made no secret of my attachment to her, and she made no secret of her lack of interest in me. I had thought last summer when I came close to becoming engaged to Miss Pemberton that I had overcome my feelings for Amelia, but alas…I cannot remain near the woman without my heart beating wildly for her.” He shrugged, helplessness filling his empty chest. “I realize I do not have a chance, that she will never love me the way I love her. But I’m at a loss to know how to overcome that.”

Nick whistled low and smooth. “Gads, man. I’m not sure I have anything to offer. Have you made an attempt to stay clear of her?”

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