A Lesson in Pride (28 page)

“Where have you been? I have been alone for days.”

“Not days, Father, only a couple of minutes.”

“You lie!”

Robert placed the cup to his father's lips and watched him drink greedily. When he turned to place the cup back on the table, Grant spied the tears in the young man's eyes. Maybe it would be good for Alysanne to see Nigel set so low. Maybe not. She had moved on with her life and it was time that Robert did as well.

Pulling on the young man's arm, Grant dragged Robert back to the door. In a low voice, he stated, “Let me take Nigel to an asylum. You can do nothing more for him.”

“I will not let him die alone.”

Grant took a deep breath. He was about to reveal something to Robert that he never thought he would. Grant never wanted to drive a wedge between Nigel and his children. If anything, Nigel had done a fine job of doing that himself. Only Robert was too obtuse to see it clearly.

“Do you remember when Alysanne was sick with a fever when she was twelve?”

Robert's confused face met his. He nodded that he remembered. “She was so sick that we were stuck in Lower Bedfordshire for over a week. I remember Father being so angry that we could not move on.”

“I met you there. It was when Alysanne was her sickest. She could barely move. Your father pulled me aside and told me that if she were not well enough the next day to travel, he was leaving without her.”

“What?” Robert asked, his breath gone and his face stricken.

“He meant to abandon her, Robert. She was so young then. Gangly, if you remember, and not very promising. Probably figured she would not be marriageable.”

Robert sat down hard on a small chair by the door. “What changed his mind?”

“I did. I told him that I would never assist him again if he left her behind. I often wonder if I had done her a favor or not. Even as an orphan, she might have had a better life than she did with your father.”

Robert sat quietly. His father had fallen back to sleep, so he remained silent as well. Grant watched closely as Robert put it all together. Over the past twenty years, he'd followed a man who thought very little of him as a son. As a person. Nigel had used the past years as a way to make something for himself and no one else. His two children were merely burdens.

“What should I do?” Robert asked, sounding every bit the young man he was. He was only two when his mother died. Would things had been different if she'd lived? There was no way to know.

“You should allow me to take your father to an asylum. You should go to your sister tonight and find out about the position she's secured for you. You should go on living the rest of your life.”

Robert's head rose. Grant could see him staring at the shell of the a man that was once his father. Nigel had been larger than life. When times were good, he was generous. But when times were bad, it was everyone else's fault and could not be borne. Above all, Nigel was an imperfect creature who should never have had the opportunity to raise two kids.

Nodding his head, Robert stood from the chair and looked Grant in the eye. “I shall go with you, my lord. It is the last thing I will do for my father.”

“Very well,” Grant stated.

Both men assisted Nigel Thomas to a carriage waiting outside. As though resigned to his fate, Nigel never spoke a word for the whole of the journey. He merely lay slumped on the opposite seat. His breathing was labored and his eyes remained closed.

Grant watched Nigel during the ride. Though Nigel's demeanor never changed, Grant thought the man knew his fate. Accepted that this was how his life was to end. Maybe was even remorseful for his mistakes. Regardless of what was truly going through Nigel's mind, it was how Grant chose to take it. It was how he would describe the scene to Alysanne.

In the quiet of the carriage, Grant pondered on his own epiphany that evening. He lectured Robert about finding his pride, when it was high time he did the same. He would marry Persephone Horton and he would work for Malcolm in some capacity. He refused to lay useless again. He refused to wait for others to do for him any longer. He would learn about business and never again be left to someone or something else's devices. He would be the man Alysanne hoped he would be. It was the least he could do for her or himself.

Chapter 35

After Ally's friend had left, Charlotte went to the garden and walked among the flowerbeds. There was nothing much to look at in early spring, but it gave her comfort thinking of what was coming. Perhaps it was coincidence that she found herself inside the greenhouse while thinking of Braydon. Perhaps it was just because it was the only spot in the garden that had any color. Regardless, she wandered down the aisle admiring the plants that had survived the cold winter.

She came to the table where she'd received her first kiss. Reaching her hand up, she placed the fingertips gently against her lips, remembering how she'd felt that day. Braydon was skilled, no doubt of that. He was also gentle and kind. He never moved too quickly to scare her, but he showed what he had wanted from her. It gave her a sense of hope that he would be a good husband.

Husband. That was the centerpiece of her musings. Charlotte knew he wanted her, both as a wife and a lover. He had said as much that day inside the greenhouse. But was that what she wanted? Of course, she wanted to be someone's wife, someone's lover, someone's mother. She wanted a man who was the exact opposite of her own father. She wanted a marriage that was happy; a partnership that was prosperous. It was such a simple request, so why did she hesitate?

Her sisters, of course. Her sisters needed her. As the oldest of the unmarried sisters left, Charlotte had always been the maternal one. While Hope was daring and crazy at times, Charlotte was stable and stationary. She bandaged, badgered, and loved like any good mother would. She could no longer put that part of her aside.

Ally had told her to think of herself for once, but she simply could not. There was too much at stake. She worried little about Hope, but what of Lizzie, Heather, and Nellie? They still needed her. There was a piece of her that still needed to be needed as well.

Absent-mindlessly, Charlotte's bare fingers brushed the dirt on the table. She wished that her mother could send her a sign. Anything that would make her decision easier. Something that would show her she wasn't making a mistake.

The creak of the door made her turn her head abruptly. At the other end of the greenhouse, Braydon stood in the doorway, looking every bit his handsome self. His eyes bored into hers, peeling away her protective layers, and laying her bare to his gaze. Sensing his intensity, Charlotte took a step back, immediately stopped by the table behind her.

“Charlotte, may I have a word?” he asked, his voice casual, but his posture most decidedly not.

Decades of training kicked her mind on as she replied, “Of course, Mr. Pierce. Would you care for some tea?”

“No,” he uttered as he took confident steps toward her.

“Shall we go to the parlor? I can have my stepmother sit with us.”

“No,” he said again, his eyes still locked on hers.

“Perhaps we should step out into the garden, therefore...”

“We are marrying, Charlotte, so it should not make much difference.”

At his high-handedness, Charlotte bristled. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Pierce. I do not believe you have asked me and I am quite certain I have not agreed.”

By the time she had finished her set down, he had made his way across the greenhouse. Without a word about her speech, he grabbed her and kissed her. His lips erased all her doubts. They erased everything she'd worried about. When she was in his arms, there was only the two of them.

Pulling away, he asked, “Will you marry me, Charlotte?”

His husky voice sent warm shivers through her body. This man wanted her and the knowledge was powerful. She could hurt him, not that she had any desire to do so. It was just a heady feeling that she had control over something - when she hadn't for so long.

“I... I...”

“Tell me why you hesitate? Do you not feel the same for me that I do for you?”

“No,” she whispered emphatically. “I like you very much. I have many things that I must ensure.”

“Like what?” he asked gently, his hands still on her shoulders.

“Like my sisters.”

His eyes squinted in confusion. “Your sisters?”

“I need to be able to care for them, should they not marry. I cannot marry someone who might not be able to care for them.”

Braydon pulled back. “Are you concerned that I might not be able to care for you?”

“No, not me. I need very little. All I have ever wanted was a small home and a kind husband. But what of my sisters? If they do not marry within a couple of seasons, my father's will has stipulated that they are to be cut off. I would never leave any of my sisters out in the cold.”

“Charlotte, do you think me poor?”

His tone confused her more than his words. It was as if he was laughing at her. “No, not poor. I just assumed you would not be in a position to care for me, our children, and my sisters.”

Braydon turned around and examined a rosebush on a shelf. He tsked at the dryness of the leaves before finding a watering can and remedying the situation. The whole time he remained silent, until his chore was done. Then he turned and said, “I became an agriculturalist because I love plants, not because I needed a profession.”

“Why would you not need a profession?” Charlotte was so confused now that she wished she had somewhere to sit. Her head was swimming.

“I do not
need
a profession, Charlotte, because my family is unbelievably wealthy.”

“Wealthy? Then why do you work?”

At that, he laughed. “Because I wish to. My father and brothers all work in some way. I assist my father with the management of our wealth, as do my brothers, but we all have other interests as well.”

“Why did you not tell me this? It would have made all my worries disappear.”

The smile was gone and Braydon's expression turned grave. “I would not have you wish to marry me for my wealth, Charlotte.”

Releasing a breath, Charlotte walked to him and placed her hand on his chest. The heavy wool of his coat was warm beneath her fingers. “I never cared for wealth, Braydon. I only wish for security. Not just for myself, but for my family. My father never truly cared for any of us, since we were not able to inherit.”

His bare hand reached down and cupped her cheek. She looked into his brown eyes. “I will take care of you, Charlotte Drake. And I will take care of any member of your family in need of it. That is what family is for.”

Instead of allowing her to answer, he kissed her instead. At first, it was languid, like honey dripping off a spoon. Quickly it became molten, with the pair forgetting where they were and beginning to remove clothing. Charlotte was at a loss to explain how her dress was pulled down and the tops of her breasts exposed. Though she couldn't explain it, she wasn't about to argue over the sensations Braydon was producing inside her.

His head was between her breasts, kissing her cleavage above her corset, when a throat-clearing ripped her from her delightful fantasy. Charlotte's head whipped up and spotted her stepmother in the doorway of the greenhouse. Ally had turned her body to the side, but it was obvious that she had seen what was happening.

In the span of a few seconds, Braydon had her set to rights, and the pair made their way to the door of the greenhouse. Standing by his side, Charlotte had to admire that Braydon did not attempt to shield her from Ally. Instead, they both walked forward as equal partners.

“Ally, I must beg your pardon,” Braydon stated without an ounce of remorse.

Charlotte watched as her stepmother's eyes settled on her. “Charlotte, are you a willing participant?”

Of all the things she expected Ally to ask her, that hadn't been it. “Of course, Ally.”

Ally looked at both in turn. “And what is to be done now?”

Braydon answered immediately. “We are to be married.”

“Excellent,” Ally exclaimed, grabbing Charlotte's hand and walking her back to the house. “We have much to prepare.”

“But,” Charlotte began, but quickly gave up. She turned her head to look at Braydon, who followed close behind. He was smiling, appearing happy despite the circumstances. She did the only thing she could in response. She smiled back. Not because she wanted to reassure him, but because she was truly happy. She and Braydon would be happy together. Forever.

Chapter 36

After a harried morning of shopping with her stepdaughters. Ginny was enjoying a quiet cup of coffee in her favorite parlor. With things squared away with Charlotte, Ginny wondered if she should begin working hard to get Hope engaged. There was a part of her that wanted to have everything settled for everyone else before concentrating on Alysanne. The girl had been such a train wreck in the beginning. There was no one else who needed more fixing than her, but Ginny sensed that her time had not arrived.

The announcement for Charlotte's wedding would be in the paper that week. Braydon wished to have the wedding at his family home by the summer. Since both were agreeable, she saw no reason to stop them. They would be traveling to meet his family in a few weeks' time. In the meantime, Ginny had to keep a careful watch over the pair. After witnessing their impropriety in the greenhouse the prior day, she knew that it would not take much to make a few inappropriate kisses turn into a couple piles of clothing on the floor.