Page 31 of Charlotte's Story
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that we aren’t in love.” I stared down at my hands in my lap but could still make out his profile from the corner of my eye. “We got married because it was convenient for both of us.”
He shook his head. “That can’t be right. It feels like love.”
“I got married because I needed to prove to my aunt that I’m over my distrust of men so she’d give me my inheritance to open my shop, and you got married because… well honestly I don’t know. From what I could tell it was just because Lady Catherine told you to.”
He followed the last instruction on his GPS, then parked the car in front of my aunt’s Japanese-style cottage by the sea before turning to me. His hazel eyes narrowed as he took me in. I fidgeted under the force of his gaze. I was so used to him not looking directly at me.
“Maybe it was a marriage of convenience, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t also care for you.” His gaze traveled over me as if he was recounting everything he knew about me from the moment he lost his memory. “After all, there’s so much about you to admire. How could I not have been in love with you?”
“Trust me. I don’t think you were.” No matter how convinced he was now, that didn’t change the fact that he had no idea what he was thinking before our marriage any more than I. I pressed my hand against my necklace, which hung hot around my neck. I couldn’t help but remember the promise he’d made when hegave it to me. But considering he didn’t have his memories, now didn’t feel like the right time to ask what he’d meant.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to disagree.” He glanced toward the necklace, a thoughtful line on his brow.
“If you had been, I don’t think you would have canceled our honeymoon simply because Lady Catherine asked to speak with you.”
His brow furrowed, guilt flashing in his hazel eyes. “I did that?”
“You did.” I blew out a breath. Why was I scolding him when it didn’t matter? Our honeymoon had been just another part of our agreement. “Either way, we have to at least convince my aunt that we care for each other, because if she suspects that our marriage is a hoax, I don’t think she’ll give me the money for my shop.” That same twinge of annoyance flared up at the way my aunt was pulling the strings, but I couldn’t be too mad at her, not when she was acting in what she believed to be my best interest. And not when she had brought me to my arrangement with William.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he said. “I can be very convincing.”
I bit my lip. “Let’s not say anything about the amnesia. It’s just one more thing to explain, and if we can help it, I don’t want it getting around town.”
“Why?”
“Maybe the amnesia would protect you if the killer thought you didn’t know anything, but it also might put you in danger because they might feel the need to finish the job before you remember something.”
“Fair enough.”
I opened my door, and the roar of the ocean greeted me. The waves crashed against the shore with foamy white caps that matched the snow dotting the ground.
ChiyoObasan’shouse nestled against the edge of the coastline, golden light spilling from the windows and snow clinging to the shingled roof. A wreath hung on the door, and smoke puffed from the chimney. I opened the bamboo gate that surrounded the property, and the candle inside a moss-covered stone toro lantern flickered to life. William glanced at it but said nothing as he followed me along the stone path toward the door.
“Are you ready?” I asked William, one hand poised above the door to knock.
“Almost.” He hesitated, then carefully slid his hand into mine, our fingers aligning like a pattern he wanted to get right. His warmth chased away the night’s chill. “Now I’m more emotionally prepared. Holding your hand is exactly what I needed.”
My mouth fell open, and I almost pulled free, but that would defeat the purpose of it. I’d told William that we needed to convince ChiyoObasanthat we were in love, and he was doing his best to make it happen.
I knocked on the door, three brief raps that matched my heartbeat, and we stood there, hand in hand.
The door swung open, and ChiyoObasanstood there. Her smile widened as she took us in. “Charlotte-chan, how lovely to see you. Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
“It’s good to see you too,” I said. “And something came up so we postponed our trip.” Even if I didn’t want to bring up the amnesia, I had to tell ChiyoObasanabout what happened. But I could at least wait until we were safely inside her house.
“I see.” ChiyoObasanstudied me intently.
“Can we come in?” I tilted my head toward William.
“Of course. Where are my manners?” She waved us inside and stepped back to make room.
We walked into the entryway and exchanged our shoes for house slippers by the door, then followed her down the narrowhall at the entryway, bypassing the door on the left, which opened into a living room with tatami mats. The house smelled like nutmeg andanko, and my stomach grumbled even though we’d eaten dinner not long ago. There was nothing quite like ChiyoObasan’shome-baked sweets.
“Have a seat and I’ll get us some tea,” she said.
“Your hospitality rivals that of Rosings Park,” William said before she’d even made it a few steps, “and that is a compliment to be treasured, for Lady Catherine employs innumerable servants.”
