Page 43 of To Tame the Wild Rake
“Perhaps a little tired,” Charlotte admitted, and blushed as she remembered why. Fortunately, the darkness of the carriage hid the colour. She would have to tell Sarah if she wanted Sarah to be her alibi, but not tonight. Not in front of Nate and Drew. In the morning, then.
But the following morning, she woke with the heavy head that heralded her courses, and by the time she had breakfasted and dressed, she was sure she was about to be seriously indisposed. Perhaps the worst of it would hold off until after the Opera, and she would be able to tell Aldridge in person that they must postpone their week away.
No, that wasn’t fair when he was moving the entire business of the duchy to one side to make space. She should write him a note.
She had not quite decided what to say when a footman knocked on the door. “The Duchess of Haverford is calling, my lady. Are you receiving guests?”
Aunt Eleanor? This early? Charlotte hurried downstairs and crossed the room to give the duchess her hands. “Aunt Eleanor.” They touched cheeks.
“Charlotte, darling.” Aunt Eleanor sat back and examined Charlotte’s face, her eyes worried.
“Is there something wrong?” Charlotte asked.
“You tell me, my dear. Is there? You and Aldridge. What has happened between you?”
Charlotte blushed, and tried to withdraw her hands and turn away, but Aunt Eleanor gripped them. “Please believe me, dearest girl. There is no one I would rather have as a daughter-in-law. If only it were possible. If only that wicked boy had not ruined everything. If my son was a different kind of man, and not next in line to hold one of the highest titles in the land.”
Charlotte flinched at the accusing tone, but found the strength to argue. “Is it so impossible, Aunt Eleanor? All the gossip over Ruth, and over Sarah; you helped Mama and Aunt Georgie make it go away. And no one in wider Society knows…”
The duchess nodded. “No oneknows, my dear. Any more that they knew the truth about Ruth and Sarah. People speculate; it is what they do.” She frowned “We could counter the rumours with the truth. And promise social ruin to any who continued to spread the lies. People will go on believing whatever they wish, but we can ignore anything but a direct snub. Besides, when your cousin and your sister married the men with whom they were accused of disporting, that pulled the worst fangs of the rumours.”
Charlotte sighed. “Such a course is not open to me, of course. I was ruined before I even made my come out. That would be enough to damn me, without the rest.”
Aunt Eleanor shrugged. “Mere ruin, and that nearly eight years ago? Only I and your closest family have anything beyond hearsay and speculation. In such a case, we ignore the truth and rumours alike. With the power your family and mine wield, we simply face the scandalmongers down until no one dares to mention the distant past. But Charlotte, darling, the man who ruined you was your own brother. The gossip will be fierce, and might well reflect on the rest of your family. Surely there is another man you can set your heart on? One whose every breath is not under such close examination as my poor son?”
Charlotte shook her head. When she pictured herself as a wife, the only man she could imagine by her side was Anthony. Not the Marquis of Aldridge. She was trained as a Society wife, and did not doubt she could manage the social and political demands of the role of duchess, but it was Anthony she wanted; the gentle man who had been kind to a lonely child, the only man ever to make her believe that marital relations might be something more than tolerable. But Aunt Eleanor was right. Being his wife would make her a target for envy and spite. Could her secret long stay hidden?
Aunt Eleanor continued. “I am concerned about more than that old scandal. We can deny it. Perhaps the Queen might be persuaded to support you. And Aldridge still has influence with the Prince Regent, and will have more when he inherits. With their backing, no one would dare to ostracise the niece of the Duke of Winshire and the wife of the Duke of Haverford.”
“Well, then,” Charlotte said. She knew perfectly well what the real problem was, but she wanted to hear her godmother state it.
Aunt Eleanor dropped her voice to a whisper. “Have the doctors changed their mind, my dear girl? Have your women’s courses returned to normal? If not, then Aldridge cannot think of taking you to wife.”
Charlotte told her what Ruth had said when Charlotte had explained the problem. “Any woman might prove to be infertile, Aunt Eleanor. Or might have only daughters, come to that.” But Ruth had also said that she had known other women with infrequent and painful courses, and that they had trouble conceiving or, if they found themselves with child, difficulty in carrying to term.
“That is true, dearest. But it does not change the facts,” Aunt Eleanor retorted. “A duchess has one primary role: to bear the heir. All else can be left undone or accomplished by someone else. But a barren duchess fails her husband and all of his ancestors.
“And any duke in need of an heir might come to resent and neglect a wife who fails him in such a way. The love that you have for my son will not survive years of infertility. Believe me. I have seen it over and over. And I know the Haverford men. None better. Aldridge might say it doesn’t matter; he might even believe it. But it will matter, Charlotte. And it will eat away at him until he blames you and seeks consolation elsewhere.”
Charlotte shook her aching head. “I think you give him insufficient credit, Your Grace.”
“I know you, too. You will not tolerate his straying. He is infatuated with you, and has been for years, but do you think he has been celibate all that time? Do you think he will remain faithful if you cannot give him a son? I don’t say these things to be cruel, but because I care about you both, and there is nothing worse than to be stuck in a marriage when you hate the person to whom you are yoked.”
Charlotte shook her head again. Surely, she would never hate Aldridge? And he would never hate her? He was one of her oldest friends. “I have told him I will never marry,” she assured the duchess who put her arms around her and offered her a handkerchief.
“I am so sorry, my dear child. I wish it could be different.”
When she went back up to her room, Charlotte wrote to Aldridge. It took her more than an hour. “Yesterday evening made me realise that I am not cut out for an affair,” she wrote. “I found it very difficult to keep hidden the awareness of you engendered by our night together.” Not just difficult, but impossible. Aunt Eleanor had noticed, and how many others?
“I cannot in all conscience keep to our arrangement. Please forgive me.” She had behaved like a wanton. She had justified everything her grandfather and father had ever said about her. She began to cry again, and struggled to subdue the tears so she could add one last thing.
“Thank you for complying with my request. I will always be grateful for your help in overcoming my fears, and will treasure my memories of our night together.”
By the time she had finished, the cramps had started. She gave the letter to a footman and sent her maid for a hot brick and a tea made of the herbs Ruth had prepared for her.
She hoped Aldridge would not be too upset.
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