Emma groaned, her brows lifting. “I look tired, as I have been repeatedly told of late, but the interesting condition of my body would have it that way.”
Charlotte beamed and sat, Emma coming beside her. “Another baby? Oh, you must be delighted. What does Partlowe say?”
“Not much,” Emma admitted with a slight wrinkle of her nose that was quite charming. “He doesn’t, usually. But I could see how pleased he was. It was very moving, actually. I think he truly loves being a father, which I had seen a little when I married him, what with his girls from his first marriage, but being part of it now… I think I may love him more for how he adores his children than anything else.”
“You love him?” Charlotte made a soft noise of surprise. “I didn’t know that. Did you think you might when you married?”
Emma tilted her head at that. “I don’t know. Perhaps I saw that I could love him if all worked in my favor. I’m not sure I was aware of that at the time, but I certainly felt more than simple comfort in it.” She smiled sadly at Charlotte. “I know you didn’t approve…”
Charlotte shook her head. “You know better than to consider what I say for more than three seconds at a time. If you were happy, that meant more to me, even if I did not say so.”
They shared a smile and Emma’s eyes turned brighter. “I saw you and your Mr. Riley the other evening at the ball. You make a striking couple, I must say. Do you like him?”
“Very much,” Charlotte admitted, “and it feels so strange to say such a thing. He’s coming to take me for a ride in his phaeton shortly, if you’d like to meet him officially.”
“I cannot. I’m due to meet Elinor in Bond Street. We’re shopping for Eliza Sandford on her brother’s behalf.”
Charlotte snorted once, even as her stomach seemed to flip. “Well, that will see her far better arrayed, but why is Michael not doing it himself?”
Emma snickered. “He did Elinor a favor, and she traded this duty. Besides, he’s away on business in Derbyshire.”
That seemed odd, and Charlotte blinked at it. “Derbyshire? What business could he have there? His estate is in Oxfordshire, as our family’s is.”
“He wouldn’t say,” Emma told her, tone apologetic. “Only that it was very important and very secret. I asked, but he said it would upset a good deal of work with his solicitors if it was made known prematurely. Oh, and that it was not just for himself.”
Charlotte frowned, looking down at the rug in the room as she thought. “He’s not the sort to take up a risky venture, he’s only interested in certainty. What could take him there?”
“I wonder if it might have to do with Miss Palmer,” Emma mused. “I think that is her home county, but he doesn’t seem…”
Her voice faded in Charlotte’s ears as her mind spun the pieces of information together.
That was it. Michael was going to Derbyshire to meet with Diana Palmer’s father. He was going to offer marriage, and he had been arranging things with his solicitors to accommodate her dowry. He was settling matters for the rest of his family, now that he would be taking up residence in Crestor Grove with his new bride.
He was going to marry Diana.
Michael was getting married.
But that couldn’t be. Michael couldn’t get married, Michael loved Charlotte. He’d said so. He still loved Charlotte while he was courting Diana. He couldn’t marry one while loving the other. He couldn’t make Charlotte feel the way he did from just a dance and marry someone else.
She couldn’t let him.
Let him.
She had no power over him. She’d shut him out, after all. She had assured herself that he knew she had no feelings for him, that his actions did not affect her. Why shouldn’t he marry the young, beautiful, sweet Miss Palmer?
Even Charlotte thought Miss Palmer was lovely, so why shouldn’t Michael marry her?
Because Michael couldn’t marry anybody. Michael had to stay a bachelor. It would ruin everything, absolutely and utterly everything. London would not be London if he retreated to the country for good with his country-loving wife. It would be the worst possible thing if he married her and left London.
No, he could not marry anybody at all… except Charlotte.
Her lips slowly parted, her eyes widening.
Marry… her?
A single pant of breath escaped her lips, her lungs seeming to collapse with the force of it.
Heavens. She loved Michael.
She had always loved Michael.
She had lost Michael.
The breathless smile that had started shifted into a gaping expression of horror.
No! No, he couldn’t! She needed a chance to… She’d only just…
One hand flew to her mouth as she began to shake. She’d done everything in her power to put distance between them, to shut out the hurt he had caused her, and only now realized that the cuts had been so painfully deep because she had loved him.
Their friendship, the most treasured of her life, had turned to love at some point, some slight shift that she hadn’t even known. There had been no mad rush of it, no breathless anticipation of his touch, only the steady, comforting, abiding assurance of his care to accompany her every day. Knowing he would be there, that she could confide in him, that he would do anything for her. More than that, knowing that she would do anything for him. Not that he would ask, but that she would.
They had felt just as strongly about each other, only he knew what it was. Her change had been so subtle, her attraction to him so gradual that until this moment, she had been entirely unaware of it.
Well, perhaps not entirely. There had been that electrifying kiss, after all, and she had been more than pleased to engage in that with him.
Because it was him.
The madness she had felt would not have been the same
