Charlotte wanted to shout that none of it mattered. Only the fact that she was clearly to blame for her father’s death mattered. But she couldn’t leave her mother to worry about such things by herself.
Much to her surprise, her mother seemed to have discovered an inner strength since her father’s passing. Charlotte had expected her to seek solace in spirits or the laudanum the doctor offered to ease her grief and help her sleep, but she’d done neither. She’d made decisions after consulting both Edward and Charlotte. She greeted mourners with dignity and gratitude, especially Lady Devlin. Their renewed friendship warmed Charlotte.
Now that Edward was the Earl of Wynn, he was busier than ever. He had one meeting after another with the barrister and the steward, preferring to hold the discussions elsewhere, with only brief hours at home.
Each time she saw him, Charlotte wanted to ask if he’d seen James. Her heart ached at the loss of his presence in her life but guilt kept her from responding to his messages. How could she proceed with their plan to be together when it had cost her family so much?
She watched Edward carefully when he was home, waiting for him to declare they’d been ruined. That her father had gambled away everything unentailed, leaving them nothing with which to pay his debts. Had there been other debts than the one to Lord Samuelson? Thus far he’d said nothing, but she knew from the tension in his expression that all was not as it should be. It would only be a matter of time before Edward told them the truth.
With that in mind, she cautioned her mother from spending much on mourning attire. Instead, they’d taken several of their older gowns and dyed them black. The servants wore black armbands as well.
When James called, she couldn’t bring herself to see him. Not when it meant telling him that she intended to marry Lord Samuelson to settle her father’s debt. She refused to allow her family to be ruined because of her.
~*~
James stared at his desk and the paper and ink there, wondering if he should bother sending another message to Charlotte. She clearly didn’t wish to see him. Had he lost her forever?
No doubt he was a reminder of her father’s death. He told himself to be patient, something his mother continued to remind him of during his frequent visits home. The holes he’d felt when he returned from the war were nothing compared to the holes he felt now. Especially in his heart—he’d left it with Charlotte at Wynn House.
He attended Lord Wynn’s funeral, but Edward hadn’t lingered at the family tomb to speak with mourners. As was customary, neither Lady Wynn nor Charlotte had attended as women were considered to have too delicate of a constitution to endure them—something he thought ridiculous. James sent several messages to Edward as well but had yet to receive a reply from him either.
He’d shared the events of that terrible day with his mother and father, including his guilt.
“Obviously, he had a weak heart,” his mother insisted. “That fact has nothing to do with you.”
“If he hadn’t acted so unreasonably to your request to court Charlotte, there wouldn’t have been a need for confrontation,” his father added. “What were you to do? Leave Lady Charlotte to marry a man against her will? What sort of gentleman would do such a thing?”
All of their points were valid and gave him a small measure of comfort but none eased his aching heart.
He couldn’t dismiss his role in Lord Wynn’s death. Nor could he change what had happened. But there was one thing he could do.
It took several attempts to track down the whereabouts of Lord Samuelson. A last he found him at White’s. Part of him worried Charlotte had gone through with the betrothal—a dreadful need to fulfill her father’s last wish. Only a week had passed since his death. Surely she wouldn’t make a rash decision so soon. Would she?
“Samuelson.” James pointed to the man’s half-empty glass. “May I buy you a drink?”
The lord’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “That depends. What is it you want?”
“A brief conversation.”
“Very well.” He gestured toward the other chair at his table.
James gestured for a waiter then took a seat, making idle conversation until the waiter arrived with their drinks.
“How much?” James asked after the waiter departed.
“How much what?”
“How much did Lord Wynn owe you?”
Samuelson’s brow lifted in surprise. “How do you know anything about that?”
“How much?” James repeated.
“What business is it of yours?” He glanced around as if looking for someone else. “Shouldn’t the new Earl of Wynn be asking that question?”
James gritted his teeth at the lord’s stubbornness and waited.
Samuelson scowled as he leaned forward. “Ten thousand two hundred and fifty pounds.”
James’ stomach dropped. The number was much worse than he’d feared. Raising that amount would not be easy, especially considering James had only a little over half that much.
He pushed aside his drink and stood. “Consider the debt settled. I’ll pay you half on the morrow and the rest next week.”
“Why would you pay the debt?” Samuelson asked.
To assuage his guilt over Lord Wynn’s death? To convince Charlotte to give him another chance? To persuade Edward to forgive him? The reasons were numerous, but he didn’t intend to share any of them with Samuelson.
He left without giving any reason at all.
~*~
Charlotte waited several more days, hoping she was wrong. But when Edward continued to stalk about the house with little to nothing to say, she decided she had waited long enough.
She rose early and dressed in a black crepe gown—a lightweight black silk that used to be a pleasant pale blue—determined to catch Edward before
