An Inconvenient Trilogy Part 22

"Would you care to join us?" he asked.

"I thought Charlotte could help me this afternoon," Elizabeth said. She wanted to get to know Charlotte a little better without Stephen being around, and she was also aware that the pair should not spend too much time together. Stephen was a well known rake and Charlotte an innocent, Elizabeth did not want any scandal for Charlotte while visiting Dunham House. Since becoming the Lady of the House, she did not want to bring any scandal on the Dunham name.

"Of course, I would be happy to help," Charlotte offered. She did feel a little disappointed at not being able to spend more time with Stephen, but she could not be so rude as to refuse her hostess such a simple request.

The gentlemen left the ladies and Elizabeth took Charlotte to her room. "Our time this afternoon will be to your benefit I think," Elizabeth said indicating that Miss Fairfield should open the doors to her wardrobe. "I need to sort through my clothes and I think I have a few dresses that would fit you perfectly."

"Oh no!" Charlotte said quickly. "I cannot accept clothing; you are doing so much for me already."

Elizabeth sat on one of the chairs positioned in front of her fireplace. "I wasn't going to make it public knowledge quite yet, but it is out of necessity that I am sorting my clothes. You see, I am hopefully going to give Michael an heir in a few months and I have an appointment with my modiste to make me a new wardrobe. So, you will be doing me a good deed if you take some of my gowns."

Charlotte smiled broadly, "Oh, you are increasing! What wonderful news!"

Elizabeth replied with a grimace, "I've never quite liked the term 'increasing', it just seems to emphasise the horrors that are to come. It shall be hard enough when I can no longer wear breeches during the day. My husband is indulgent, but even he would not tolerate me roaming around with breeches straining over a large stomach."

"Does Lord Halkyn know?" Charlotte asked, not quite sure why she needed to know just how close he was to Elizabeth.

"Stephen? No he doesn't know. He would only ridicule us if we seemed pleased with our news," Elizabeth responded with a shake of her head.

"Why on earth would he ridicule you?" Charlotte asked, surprised.

"We will have a chat about it later, first let us sort out my wardrobe," Elizabeth replied. She wanted a little time to ponder over what exactly to tell Charlotte about Stephen. It was obvious that the girl was smitten with him, but Elizabeth never thought for one moment that Stephen would have any long lasting attachment to someone like Charlotte. She did not want to see her young friend hurt and thought it may be less cruel if she knew exactly the type of man Stephen was.

The ladies enjoyed the afternoon using Charlotte as a doll to dress up. Elizabeth would decide on the dress and Miss Fairfield would help Charlotte to change. Accessories would be added and then a discussion about the outfit would occur between the three ladies. Not all of Elizabeth's dresses suited Charlotte, their colouring was different, so some were rejected, but at the end of the afternoon Charlotte had a substantially bigger wardrobe than she had at the beginning, even outnumbering Stephen's kind contributions.

They sat down to enjoy tea and delicate cakes and Elizabeth raised the subject of Stephen. Miss Fairfield had left the pair, to carry on with her own household tasks and Elizabeth thought it appropriate that they have the conversation while they were alone.

"You asked why Stephen would ridicule us over our pleasure at having a family," Elizabeth started.

"Yes, it seems such a strange thing to do at such a happy time," Charlotte replied, nibbling on a fancy.

"He wouldn't do it to be hurtful, but it is the way he is," Elizabeth continued.

"He has said that he is cynical about the world." Charlotte contemplated what Stephen had hinted at to her during their short acquaintance.

"I suppose he is a product of his upbringing or the society he lives in, but he has some fixed ideas about love and marriage," Elizabeth said, trying to be careful with what she said.

"You must know him quite well," Charlotte responded, trying and failing to keep the jealous tone from her voice.

Elizabeth smiled, it seemed like only yesterday that she had been in a similar position to Charlotte, trying desperately to hide her feelings about the man she loved and failing miserably. She decided that the only way to continue was to be honest. "Charlotte my dear, what I am going to tell you I am doing so in the hope that in the future you will make decisions that are right for you," she said.

"Go on," Charlotte encouraged.

"I came out very late, I was sent to my guardian, Michael, three years after I should have had my first season. I didn't want anything other than to be able to have an estate and manage it, but I hadn't considered falling in love." Elizabeth remembered her encounters with Michael with a wistful smile.

"You fell in love with Lord Dunham?" Charlotte asked, hoping she would receive the answer she wanted.

"Yes I did and luckily for me, he fell in love with me," Elizabeth replied. "But I hadn't realised what demons Michael was struggling with. They don't matter now, but at the time they were very real to him. As a consequence he encouraged other suitors; he thought it would be better if I didn't marry him."

"Why would he do that?" Charlotte asked in disbelief.

"Yes, I have often wondered that," Elizabeth said wryly. "He is a principled man and was acting in a way that he thought was best for me. One of the men he encouraged was Stephen."

"Oh." Charlotte replied, her heart sinking.

"I wasn't a huge hit with Society," Elizabeth continued. "The truth be told, it was a nightmare, I hated it, but I think Stephen saw that I was different from the others. He was very often faced with women who simpered around him."

"So he fell in love with you as well?" Charlotte asked in a flat voice.

"Oh goodness me, no!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "This is what I am trying to tell you, he proposed marriage to me, but he doesn't believe in love within a marriage. Actually, I don't think he believes that love exists at all. All he wanted was someone who he thought he would get on with tolerably well, and he even offered to let me continue with my plans and run an estate, and suggested we meet up occasionally to ensure the Halkyn line continued," Elizabeth said diplomatically.

"Oh my goodness! That wouldn't be a marriage, it would be h.e.l.l!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"Yes, although I did consider it for a while. I realised how unprotected I was and that his name would have offered the protection I needed, and it would be, to some extent, the life I wanted. The problem was that although I hadn't set-out to fall in love, that was what had happened, and second best was just not good enough," Elizabeth explained. "I refused Stephen before I knew that Michael could overcome his demons, in fact, I didn't even know about them at that point."

"I see," Charlotte said.

"I want you to understand what type of a person Stephen is. He is very likeable, he is funny and charming, it is no wonder he has women throwing themselves at him. There is a darker side though, he said he would try to be faithful, but he could not give me any guarantees. I did not know how that would have affected me, but believe me, if you are in love with a man, and suspect that he is not being faithful, it would destroy you," Elizabeth said gently.

"I have not hidden my feelings well, have I?" Charlotte said with tears in her eyes.

"Perhaps I see what you are feeling because I know what it is like," Elizabeth said kindly. "If it is any consolation, I know Stephen likes you, he would not have made any effort at all to help you if he didn't."

"Some consolation I suppose," Charlotte said with a rueful smile. She wiped her eyes quickly and pulled herself together. "I'm not very good at choosing eligible young men. I think it would be best if my uncle came and locked me away."

Elizabeth laughed, "Well perhaps not that! Don't dismiss the whole male population just because of two characters."

Chapter 8.

Charlotte was quiet as Maggie helped her dress for dinner. She normally chatted to the maid, but this time she had a lot to think about. Elizabeth's words had been taken in the spirit they had been given. She was no longer jealous of Elizabeth's relations.h.i.+p with Stephen; she saw now that there was nothing to be jealous of. She could see the truth in what Elizabeth had said. Stephen had hinted at his jaded outlook on life, it seemed he was telling the truth, and not just saying things to be shocking.

She sighed; she needed a boost of confidence tonight. She looked at her dresses. "I shall have the emerald green one please, Maggie," she instructed.

Maggie paused and then swallowed. "It's not appropriate Miss Webster," the maid said quietly.

Charlotte knew that the dress was not appropriate for a girl just out of the schoolroom. It was a deep green colour, not the expected pale shades for a debutante. The neckline was a little daring too, with its ruffled bodice, drawing attention to the breast area. Elizabeth had given it to her for the future, Charlotte knew that, but perhaps it was because she wanted Stephen to want her as much as she did him, or maybe it was just something to hide behind. Whatever her reasoning, she was determined to wear it.

"That is the dress I need tonight Maggie," Charlotte said firmly. Maggie just nodded, and helped to dress her mistress. The maid had done her duty in offering advice, she could do no more.

The dress suited Charlotte; it brought out the green in her eyes and warmed her skin tone. Maggie had dressed her hair in a simple bun, which on other women could seem harsh, but for Charlotte it appeared elegant. She entered the drawing room with a fluttering stomach, but was determined to brazen it out.

Michael looked at his wife in question, but she chose to ignore his glance. They both glanced at Stephen and although neither of them knew what Charlotte's motivation had been while choosing the dress, could see that it had scored a hit with their friend.

Stephen had sucked in his breath when Charlotte had entered the room. From the first moment he had seen her, he had thought she was beautiful, but dressed as she was, she literally took his breath away. His reaction was physical and something else. The tightening of his groin usually occurred when Charlotte was around, but he was a healthy male who reacted to a beautiful woman, and he saw no problem with his healthy male response. Something else had happened though; he was almost overwhelmed by a feeling of possessiveness which he fought not to act on. He wanted to stride across the room and cover her with a shawl, to not allow anyone but him to see anything but the most minimal amount of her body.

As he watched her move and speak to Elizabeth, he was filled with sadness, another emotion he was unaccustomed to feeling. He could see the woman she was going to become, elegant and beautiful. She would be married to some young popinjay who would not appreciate what he had. Stephen would be left to watch as some dandy turned her head. No, he would not watch, he decided; he would remove himself from her society once Elizabeth started to introduce her to the local gentry. Stephen may not be able to overcome the fact that he was too old for Charlotte, but he certainly was not going to stand by and watch her be courted by the young fools who lived in the area. He took a deep breath, it was time he started to plan his return to town.

Michael entered his wife's bed chamber after her maid had left. He spent most of his time in her room, only using his dressing room to change. It was how they wanted their life to be, as close as possible. It was a comfortable room, decorated in a style they both liked, in blues and golds. The bed hangings and curtains had been made to compliment the wallpaper. Elizabeth had always said it was a colour that Michael could feel comfortable with, he had retorted that any room with her in it, was a room where he could be comfortable.

He walked over to Elizabeth's dressing table and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Now, what mischief have you been up to with our young guest?" he asked, looking at her through the mirror.

Elizabeth sighed, "I know, she certainly made an impact with that dress didn't she? I thought Stephen was going to jump across the room to get to her!" she replied.

"I hope you are not encouraging her in any wild notions," Michael chided.

"For once I have done the opposite," Elizabeth explained. "I told her exactly what Stephen's opinions were of love and marriage. I thought I was helping to prevent her breaking her heart over him, but it's obvious she is besotted."

"I think you should perhaps have left those things unsaid," Michael said gently.

"I don't want to see her hurt!" Elizabeth responded defensively. "She is a girl who has already had a rough experience; I didn't want Stephen to hurt her as well."

"I understand that, but it's just..." Michael pondered.

"What?" his wife asked, a little annoyed at being challenged.

"I've never seen Halkyn like he is with Charlotte. Did you notice him on the first evening? He sat next to her, giving her support when she told her story. When has he ever done something so openly selfless? I think he may not be as untouched by Charlotte as he would have us believe," Michael said thoughtfully.

"I often see him watching her," Elizabeth admitted. "In fact during our meals, he looks more at her than anyone or anything else."

"Yes, he has never troubled himself over a woman before, so perhaps he is as besotted with her, as Charlotte is with him," Michael agreed.

"What should we do to help them?" Elizabeth asked eager to help her young friend.

"Absolutely nothing," Michael responded, taking Elizabeth into his arms. "You have far too much to do for your husband."

Elizabeth was carried over to her bed and kissed to the point where all thoughts of Stephen and Charlotte were forgotten.

Stephen had decided that he was going to leave Dunham House and return to London. Then he decided that he would wait until after breakfast, but then he decided that he perhaps should wait until Charlotte's uncle arrived. She might need his help; her uncle was obviously not the best to decide what Charlotte should do with her future. He would probably agree to her scheme to find employment, since he had all but abandoned her at the school. Yes, he would stay until he arrived.

Stephen's internal arguments happened at the same time as a change between himself and Charlotte occurred. He did not understand why or how, but there was a distinct change of atmosphere and contact between the two. Over the following six days Charlotte avoided him whenever possible. If he suggested a ride, she had arranged to go for a walk with Miss Fairfield. If he offered to take her in the phaeton, she found the weather too chilly. If he offered to play a game of chess, cards, or sing while she played the piano, she had a headache and would prefer to read.

She was avoiding him. He should have been relieved, he was leaving after all, but he was annoyed. What had he ever done that would make her want to avoid him? He had only ever helped her, why, he had in fact gone out of his way to help her. With Michael busy, Stephen was left to ponder and fume alone. He would ride out to try and get rid of his dark mood, but the moment he returned to the house and heard Charlotte's laughter or even just her voice, he was in an even darker mood than before.

On the sixth morning Stephen could not stand it any longer. He had tried to persuade Charlotte to join him for a walk, but she had said that she was intending to read. Not one for inactivity, Stephen decided that he was going to get to the bottom of the change in her behaviour.

Charlotte entered the library and closed the door quietly. She leaned against the door, closing her eyes, her nerves stretched to the limit. Avoiding Stephen in order to protect herself was torture.

"Feeling unwell my dear?" came the slightly sarcastic drawl from Stephen.

Charlotte physically jumped at the sound of his voice and flushed deep pink. She had not seen him sprawled in a chair in front of the fireplace. How she had missed him she would never know. Her nerves were usually so in tune to his location that it scared her.

"You should have given some warning you were in the room!" she snapped, her shock making her respond sharper than she would normally have done.

"Why? So that you can run away again?" Stephen said. "I'm afraid I'm getting a little tired of your bad manners, my dear."

Charlotte flushed again, mainly because she had been behaving badly, but it was through self-preservation, rather than bad manners. "You consider that I am behaving badly because I don't want to spend every moment in your company?" She responded tartly. "Surely, even you are not so vain?"

Stephen blinked; her words hurt him far more than he would ever admit. "I seem to recall there was a time when you were desperate for my company." He stood and walked across to her.

Charlotte stiffened and leaned into the door, as if willing it to allow her to pa.s.s through and back into the hallway. "I have already thanked you, and will always be grateful for your help," she admitted. "But you will be departing from here soon; I would have thought you'd welcome the release of responsibility for me."

Stephen looked at her; normally he would have welcomed it. Nay, he would never have offered help in the first place, but it always came down to the fact that it was her. He wanted to spend time with her. "There is no need to make our time here tedious, we can still enjoy ourselves," he said with a drawl, maintaining the air of someone who did not care by sounding lecherous.

His words confirmed what Elizabeth had said and Charlotte fought to suppress her feelings of disappointment. Being told that someone would never be interested in you was less hurtful than having it confirmed. "You do make the most preposterous suggestions!" Charlotte said with disgust.

Although Stephen had meant to be cynical and condemning, he was quick to realise that Charlotte was referring to something beyond their conversation. "May I enquire to what other preposterous suggestions you refer?" he said coldly.

Charlotte was a little overwhelmed by his tone and the cold look in his eyes. She had seen cynicism and derision in his look previously, but it had never been aimed at her, but this time it was different. The lines around his mouth were p.r.o.nounced and his frown cast deep grooves along his forehead. She took a breath to steady her fluttering insides.

"I have heard from Elizabeth your opinions of love and marriage," she replied defiantly.

For some reason, Stephen could have happily murdered Elizabeth at that moment, but as always, he gave what was expected of him. "And what may I ask was wrong with my proposal? I was giving the woman everything she said she was looking for. If she wanted to chase love, like some foolish moon-struck chit, that wasn't anything to do with my proposal. I was honest with her and did not try and flatter her with false words. Some would applaud my honesty."

Charlotte could not resist the urge to probe. "Do you not want to be loved?"

Stephen fought the feelings her words stirred, he would not show the foolishness he had so often condemned. "What would be the benefit? I come and go as I please. I live my life exactly as I want. I have no one telling me that they don't approve of my behaviour, that I can't have a mistress if I want one. I do not have to suffer tears and tantrums, which I believe is all that love is," he said bitterly.

Charlotte was shocked, but maintained her composure. "How can you say that when you are staying in the house of people who are so obviously in love and happy?"

"They are happy now, but it won't last," Stephen responded tartly.

"Well I hope your mistresses can keep you warm as you age, because otherwise your bed is going to become a cold and lonely place!" Charlotte said bitterly. She would normally never have uttered such words, but she had felt such jealousy at the thought of Stephen with someone else when he had mentioned having a mistress, that she just had to hit out in any way she could.

Stephen used the jealous words to his advantage. He was angry and hurt, something he was not used to feeling and he needed to be back in control. He moved and placed his arms on the door, either side of Charlotte. "Oh, I think I will have a warm bed for many years to come, don't you?" he whispered, letting his breath tickle Charlotte's ear.

Charlotte sucked in her breath, it was the closest they had been since the first night they had met and the memories of their kisses flooded back to her. She felt her face burning and fought to steady her insides. "Even mistresses have limitations," she said, but her voice was breathless. His eyes were an intense blue, something she had not seen when they had kissed in the dark, and now she felt as if she was being pulled into him.

Stephen was gratified that he was having an effect; at least he was not the only one who was suffering. He should stop, if he was a decent man he would stop, but he did not want to and at the moment he felt anything but decent. "But you have had a taste of what I can offer. Do you not think they would be a little tempted? Are you not a little tempted?" He whispered, his lips brus.h.i.+ng hers, ever so gently.

Charlotte closed her eyes at his words. All she could feel was his breath and the gentle feel of his lips. He was so gentle that there was almost no contact, but it was as if her every nerve was feeling every touch.

"Are you tempted, my little tiger?" Stephen whispered again, a smile playing around his lips, taking away the cynical sneer that was his usual expression.

"Yes," Charlotte moaned, giving in to the feelings he was stirring, the feelings he always stirred. She was too inexperienced to be able to remain firm in the face of such temptation.

Stephen groaned in appreciation at her admission and covered her lips in his. He had not realised how much he had wanted to kiss her until his lips had brushed hers. At that point he could not have pulled away even if he had a gun to his head. He felt as if he fitted against her, against her mouth perfectly. He had enjoyed her kisses on that first night, but now that he had come to know her, to want her, the kisses were intense beyond anything that had happened before.

Charlotte welcomed his mouth, opening her own for his exploration. It did not matter that he did not love her, he wanted her, she could feel how much as he pressed against her. She pushed against him in return, longing for the feel of him, not knowing what to do, but being guided by his appreciative moans. She wrapped her arms around his neck, no longer leaning into the door, but leaning against him for support.