Page 34 of An Unwilling Earl
She pulled at the short ends of her hair. “It’s strange being in a gown again. Stranger still to be wearing such a bright color. Aunt Martha didn’t allow color.”
“Well, that’s depressing.”
“To say the least.”
“Is your room to your liking?” He felt like he was removed from the conversation and watching from a distance. Definitely not like he’d just kissed her.
“I slept on an uncomfortable pallet for weeks. It’s quite luxurious compared to what I’m used to.”
“If you need anything, let me know.”
She considered him for a moment. “This is awkward.”
He looked down at his toes and realized that he was still standing in the doorway. The sight of Charlotte had stopped him in his tracks. “You just look so different.”
“And I’m wearing your wife’s gown.” She held up her hand to stop what he was about to say. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I’ll say no more.”
In the hallway, when he was showing her the rest of his home, he’d acted on instinct, something he rarely, if ever, did. He’d wanted to kiss her and so he had. She’d been right there. And he’d been right in front of her, hemmed in by the narrow hallway. She’d looked up at him with those large, luminous eyes, and he’d kissed her. And it had been fantastic.
But now, seeing her in Cora’s gown, he felt guilty.
Armbruster kept telling him it was time to move on, but Armbruster didn’t understand the grief that still overtook him at times—although less frequently now. Oliver didn’t understand the love that Cora and Jacob had shared. Jacob knew that he would never find another woman like his Cora.
“Dinner should be soon,” he said to break the awkward silence and to distract his mind from kissing Charlotte.
She drew in a deep breath and pressed her hand to her stomach and looked at the bookcase that she had been perusing.
“They’re not exactly entertaining,” he said.
She looked back at him. “What?”
He nodded toward the bookcase. “The books. They’re not light reading. Mostly law books.”
She ran a finger over the spine of one. In the firelight her skin was like alabaster, glowing from the scrubbing that she’d given it. “For the past few years, the only book I was allowed to read was the Bible, so anything else is a nice change.”
“Well, you’re welcome to read them, but they’ll put you to sleep. They even put me to sleep. If you’d like, we can go to the bookstore, and you can buy something more to your liking.”
She looked longingly at the books one last time and let her hand drop to her side. “Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll be around long enough to read a book.”
The thought of her leaving left his heart heavy, and he wanted to curse himself. One moment he was mourning Cora, and the next he was mourning the imminent loss of Charlotte.
He confused himself.
…
The next morning Charlotte made it downstairs rather early only to discover that Jacob was already gone.
“Meetings with important people,” Mrs. Smith had said as she’d hurried about, waving her dust cloth.
The night had not gone as well as Charlotte hoped. One would think that sleeping in a comfortable bed would have meant a dreamless sleep, but that had been far from the case. She’d tossed and turned, thoughts of Jacob filling her mind. Jacob in the hallway. Kissing Jacob. Jacob in his study, looking at her as if he were seeing a ghost.
She’d seen the hope, then the grief flood his eyes when he’d seen her in his wife’s gown and realized it was Charlotte.
Just Charlotte.
The way Jacob had looked at her when he thought she was his dead wife had done something to her. She wanted someone to look at her that way, so full of love that he could barely contain it.
Mrs. Smith had given her another gown, this one a pale peach, and it fit much better.
