Page 58 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
“Wha—Why not?” His hands closed around air.
“How can we leave her to such a desperate state? How could I be with you knowing in doing so I had assigned a woman to poverty? I have lived in poverty. I know.”
He shook his head. “But they would not be in poverty. The father is my tenant…”
She turned from him. “I cannot. I’m sorry.”
As she left the room, he could only stand in silent agony, allowing the silence around him to numb his pain. But it would never go away. He would always long for the beautiful, engaging and noble Miss Charity.
Chapter 15
Charity decided that if she could not marry Lord Lockhart, she would not get married. The other lords this Season were pleasant. They were engaging. When she thought of Lord Granville, she knew she could make a merry life with someone like him, with him. But once she’d felt the love, the desire, the respect she felt for Lord Lockhart, she knew that she could not be happy with any other. Lord Wessex had been interesting. She’d learned there was a great difference between him and Lord Lockhart. She’d been amused by him, distracted by him, but not in good ways.
She didn’t need a man to continue her work at the school, didn’t need a man to continue sharing truths like those she’d read in the Treatise for Women. She wouldn’t have minded marrying for convenience before she’d fallen in love with Lord Lockhart, but now that she knew such a love was possible and that she’d given her heart to him, she didn’t want anything other than that unity of soul.
Would she regret not having children? Certainly. But she could become the best aunt she’d ever heard of. And there was room in the castle for many a family, if not just for her in her own rooms. She suspected she would always be welcome with the Duchess of York. And, of course, with any of her sisters. Her heart pinged at the thoughts of loneliness, at knowing she would be living a life without Lord Lockhart, but she could see no other path, no other option. When she thought of the great honor of Lord Lockhart in taking on another woman, another man’s child, she couldn’t believe she’d ever doubted him. Certainly he would do such a thing, certainly he would be so noble.
Days later she prepared for the upcoming ball. The ball where she would tell Lord Wessex she was finished accepting any of his advances. The ball where she would continue her work, where she would talk of her causes and of the Treatise of Women, where she would begin her work for suffrage in earnest.
The ball where she would have to come to accept the presence of Lord Lockhart in her life as something other than her partner, her friend, her love. He would be someone else’s and she would try to become accustomed to the idea.
She dressed with care, having come to appreciate the ability to be beautiful, to accentuate that beauty, to enjoy a lovely gown and hair designed to show off her best features. Call her vain or not, she’d come to recognize the power in beauty and she would use it for good.
When she stepped into the ballroom, and many faces turned to her, she smiled in return. Filled with confidence, she knew what good she could do for them all. She knew what she could try to encourage in all those around her. While she had their attention, she would work for good. Those thoughts filled her with joy.
Then Lord Lockhart stepped into her line of sight. And she faltered. Perhaps her determination to live without him would be more difficult than she had planned. Nobly giving up the one you love for another was not quite as heroic as she’d imagined. His face had real longing, and she knew her expression matched, for she could not hide the love she felt for this man.
But she turned away, relieved to be distracted by a request for the first set—what used to be Lord Lockhart’s set. She accepted and was led out to the floor. Their group included Lord Lockhart, Miss Penny, Lord Wessex and another vivacious debutante. Charity stood across from Lord Granville. “And what shall we be working for this evening? What manner of causes will be your purpose?” His smile was real, full, and engaging.
Miss Penny giggled at something Lord Wessex called over to her. Lord Lockhart’s face was blank. But the eyes that stared into hers for just a moment shared her agony of realization. Was this to be their life now?
Partners came together and separated, Lord Granville full of his work in the House of Lords, which Charity appreciated but could feel no passion for at the moment. She would do well to encourage him. He could be one of the lords to champion a reform bill if it were ever to come to fruition.
When she stepped up to Lord Wessex, she felt nothing and indeed was annoyed at his ridiculous compliments. “I’m looking forward to our waltz.” He winked. She couldn’t remember promising him the waltz, but what did it matter? She’d best not dance such a set with Lord Lockhart.
At last, she stood in front of Lord Lockhart and took his hands in hers. As they moved through their steps together, she wished to dance only with him, for him, at his side forever. Her hands belonged to such a man, as did her heart and every other set. When they parted, she sighed in frustration.
The ball continued the same, with more frustration than any of the exhilarated noble feelings of sacrifice and joy she’d felt earlier.
Happily, she saw very little of Lord Wessex. She had little patience for him and his conversation at the moment.
And it seemed some in the room were talking about the school and reform all on their own. She was pleased to hear certain topics as she walked past in more than one group conversing. Perhaps good could come of all of her efforts, more than she thought possible even at the beginning of the Season.
But she found less satisfaction in it than she thought she might. She had no one to celebrate the successes with, or rather, she had lost Lord Lockhart. In the past, running to him to declare their individual victories had been half the fun.
Then Lord Wessex appeared, and the music for a waltz began. “Might I have this set, Miss Charity?” His breath smelled funny, like he might be in his cups. And as she stepped into his arms, he smelled of his usual earthy smells, but in addition, something floral tickled her nose, lavender or rose perhaps, and she wondered which specific woman had added her scent to his.
As he pulled her closer, she wasn’t certain she wanted her smell to be added to his and the mystery woman’s. In truth, she didn’t want to be on any notch of accomplishment he might choose to boast about. She’d been lonely. He’d been friendly. But she wasn’t interested in begging a conquest. Particularly not when it was so obvious he had many in mind. She tried to create more space between them, but he just laughed. “I’m not after anything nefarious. We’re perfectly presentable.” He nodded with his head toward others dancing just as closely, but that meant little to her.
“Nevertheless, I am more comfortable with a little space.”
“Does it have anything to do with the noble Lord Lockhart?”
Her eyes flashed with irritation. Why had Lord Lockhart caught his ire?
“No,” she insisted and stepped further away.
But as they spun for a moment in the steps, he took the opportunity to pull her close again. “Charity. I find you hard to resist.”
