Page 66 of An Unwilling Earl
“I’m sorry,” Jacob said. “I know how hard it was for you to go to him.”
She pulled the lavender confection of a hat off and let it dangle between her fingers by the strings. “I just want to get on with my life.”
“I know you do, and I know you think that America is the answer to all of your difficulties, but delaying a week could be a good thing. This will give us time to go to the police with our suspicions.”
She slumped into the nearest chair in a most unladylike way and looked dejectedly at the floor. Even her shoes were from a dead woman. Her underthings, everything. She was living with a dead woman’s husband.
She closed her eyes in despair, feeling lost and confused. Did she even have a life that was hers anymore? She was being pulled in so many different directions that the strain was overwhelming, and she was beginning to wonder if America was truly the answer to her problems.
Certainly she would create a new life, a new identity. But would it help? Because she was dragging the old Charlotte Morris behind her. An accessory to her baggage that she would never shed. Some part of Charlotte Morris would always be inside of her, tapping on the door to be let out.
“I’m afraid, Jacob. I’m afraid my aunt will convince the authorities that I am mentally unstable and that they will agree that I should return to her care.” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “I’m just so afraid,” she whispered.
Jacob knelt in front of her and put his arms around her, enfolding her in his warmth and strength. He smelled like a combination of spices and soap. It was a comforting smell.
She wanted to cry and collapse into him and tell him she was afraid that she was losing herself. She was terrified to go to America where she knew no one, and at the same time she yearned to get away, to start anew.
“I know you’re scared, Charlotte, but I will protect you. And your uncle will protect you, and if need be, I will pull Lord Armbruster into this and he will protect you as well. You’re not alone in this. No matter what you think, you are not alone.”
She drew in a shuddering breath and let her weariness lean into him. “What did I do to deserve all of you? None of you know me, and yet you all want to help.”
“We care about you. To Lord Chadley you are family. And to me… Well, to me you are someone very special.”
But not special enough.She pushed the thought away, tired of telling herself that she was not for him. It was not her problem that he was still mourning his wife. After all, didn’t her own papa mourn her mother until the day he died?
“What if it is not enough?” she whispered. “What if all of your resources are not sufficient to convince the police that I am right and my aunt is wrong?”
He pulled back and looked into her eyes, his gaze dark and unreadable. “There is always marriage.”
“I said I would not marry anyone who did not love me.”
“Even if it saves your life and possibly the lives of others?”
She looked away, chilled with the possibilities. Could she? Could she marry him under these conditions? She wanted a love like her mother and father had, but maybe that type of love didn’t come around frequently. Maybe for some it didn’t happen at all, and you settled for comfort and friendship. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? “You’re making me sound selfish.”
“What if we wed to keep you safe for now, and if you still want to go to America after this is all over then I will let you go?”
“You would do that?” she asked. “You would wed me for that reason alone?”
“I would wed you for many reasons. I told you that last night.”
“What do you get out of such a marriage? Scandal that your new wife ran away, leaving you?”
He hesitated. “But my life is rapidly changing. A wife would… Well, to be honest, a wife would keep the matchmaking mamas from my front door.”
“So I am to be a Trojan Horse of sorts?” She found the idea amusing rather than mortifying. Was Jacob that afraid of the voracious mothers trying to find a good match for their simpering daughters?
“I see it as you protecting me just as I am protecting you.”
“A marriage of convenience.”
He tilted his head in admission. “With the added benefit that we know each other rather well. We would not be coming into this as complete strangers.”
She liked the idea of paying him back for the kindness and hospitality that he’d bestowed on her. And she liked the fact that he needed her help, rather than her always needing his help. Yet, it was quite a high price to pay for both of them.
“You will truly let me go to America when this is finished?”
“If that’s what you want.”
