Page 31 of An Unwilling Earl
“Did they say that? That they wanted nothing to do with you?”
“They broke off all ties with my mother when she married my father.”
“That was your grandfather. He’s dead now, and your uncle is the new marquess. Things might be different.”
“I doubt it.” That bitter, old hurt resurfaced, and she was angry at Jacob for bringing it back. How many nights had she longed for a knock on the door and the marquess telling her she didn’t have to live with her Aunt Martha anymore? How many mornings did she wake up in the same circumstances with no marquess waiting to save her?
Her mother’s family didn’t care about her.
“You don’t know unless you try,” Jacob said.
She started back the way she had come, toward the front door. “Do you think my room is ready yet? I’m tired, and I could use that hot bath.”
She could hear Jacob following her, the soft, even tread of his shoes.
“I didn’t mean to make you angry,” he said to her back.
“My mother’s family is not an option,” she said. “They never will be.”
“Very well. I won’t mention them again.”
She stopped in the entryway and plucked at the wooden toggle button of her coat, not knowing where to go from here. Up to her room? Out the front door? To America? She was so confused and so tired.Sotired.
“Are you all right?” Jacob asked.
“You would think that being here would be far better than the rookery, but it’s not. In the rookery I didn’t have an identity, and I knew no one would find me. But here I feel exposed. You said my aunt visited you here. What if she returns?”
“I highly doubt she will return, but if she does you will stay upstairs, and I will get rid of her.”
“She’s a formidable woman who always gets what she wants.”
“I won’t let her get to you, Charlotte. I promise.”
Tears thickened her throat, and she swallowed them. “I guess I just need to trust you.”
“You won’t be sorry.”
…
Charlotte leaned back into the tub and let out a sigh that started from her filthy, frozen toes to travel all the way through her chilled body. It’d been weeks since she’d had a proper bath, and it’d been longer than that that she’d felt warmth. She’d tried to keep up on her personal hygiene while in the rookery, but there was only so much that could be done with a cold pail of water.
She ducked her head under the water and smoothed her hair away from her face when she came back up, tucking the short ends behind her ears. She missed her hair. It had been one of her best features.
Vainglory, her aunt whispered in her ear.
One of the seven deadly sins. If her aunt had known that Charlotte had thought her hair was one of her best features, she would have made Charlotte cut it off.
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, letting the hot water soak through her. Her muscles began to relax.
One time her aunt had caught Charlotte gazing into her dressing table mirror. She’d been inspecting her skin for pimples. Sarah had told her that boys didn’t like girls with pimples.
Her aunt had flown into a rage upon seeing Charlotte staring at herself, and Charlotte had received seven lashes, one for each of the sins. When she’d returned to her room all of her mirrors were gone, and she’d never seen them again.
It was just one of the many punishments that had been meted out to her over the years, but they were nothing compared to what her cousin Edmund had endured.
Her body jerked, and her eyes flew open. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, and she began to shiver. The water had not cooled enough for her to be this cold, but she had goose bumps up and down her arms. Just thinking of her aunt and cousin made her tremble.
She had an urgent need to return to the rookery. She was too close to Aunt Martha and Cousin Edmund. It would be too easy for them to find her here. She knew it was the fear taking hold of her, and she consciously made herself relax. Jacob told her he would protect her, and she believed him. At least she believed he would try, and that was all she could ask for.
