- Home
- Abigail Agar
Loving a Noble Gentleman Page 15
Loving a Noble Gentleman Read online
Page 15
Lord Jones did not look impressed. Maybe to someone who did not know him well, he seemed calm and collected as he finally learned that his wife was having a baby, but Charlotte recognised the fire behind his eyes well. She was in trouble, a lot of trouble.
“I … I did not realise …” Charlotte tried to go with the tactic of playing dumb that she had decided on before, but Lord Jones shook his head vehemently; he was not about to fall for that. “I only just found out.”
He stepped closer and grabbed onto her wrist, squeezing just a little too tight. A small warning from the man she knew was very capable of doing so much worse. “I think you have known for a very long time,” he growled quietly. “What I do not know is why you kept it from me.”
Charlotte gazed up into his eyes, trying to plead with him for mercy. She knew that it was pointless; once his temper got the better of him, there was nothing that she could do to stop him, but every single time she felt the need to try.
“I … I am sorry,” she whispered. Half of her hoped that no one could see them because it was embarrassing; the other half hoped that someone was watching so that she could shake off the web of lies that surrounded her and her life. “I did not think.”
He moved his face closer to hers until she could feel his breath tickling her cheek. Somehow, that action was more intimidating than every single time he put his hands on her. It made her pulse race, her tongue thicken with fear, her brain buzz.
“We will talk about this when we get home,” he threatened. “Just you wait.”
With that, he dropped her as if she was nothing, and he walked back inside to be with his friends. He needed to sink a few more drinks if he was going to deal with his wife tonight. He had not realised how much trouble she was going to be when he agreed to marry her. Maybe if he had known, he would have turned Lord Roberts offer down …
Charlotte found herself panting desperately, wishing that she could just take off. If there were anywhere else in the world that she could have gone, she would have run there at that moment. Instead, she would be forced to suffer a horrible night where her husband grew increasingly drunk and irritable, then she would have to go home to a house that she hated, to face the consequences of her actions.
It was safe to say that Charlotte did not have the best life.
***
Mary did not know what to do with herself as she waited in the dining room while the yelling went on around her. It was louder this time, much more terrifying, and it echoed through the entire house.
She had been able to tell that this was going to happen the moment her sister and Lord Jones walked through the door after their night at the theatre. The atmosphere was so thick, it could have been cut with a knife. Then, just to make it worse, Charlotte embraced her sister and whispered into her ear. “He knows about the baby. Please do not interfere tonight; you will only make it worse.”
So instead, because of her sister’s wish and Mary’s genuine fear that she would make it worse if she got involved, she waited for it all to be over.
Jennifer had been watching Mary for a while now, and as she stared at her, she realised that she was not like anyone she had known before. This Lady seemed kind, caring, and like she was very afraid for her sister. She wished that she could say something to make it alright; she searched her brain trying to find something that would make Lady Roberts feel better, but there was nothing. In all honesty, despite the fact that the house staff found her cold and standoffish, everyone was afraid for Lady Jones. No one knew where Lord Jones’ temper would eventually lead.
“Do you need anything?” she asked her instead, unable to keep the desperation from her tone. “I can fix you some tea, or …”
Mary did not answer Jennifer. Instead, she took her hand and squeezed it as she searched for comfort. “I am going to save her, you know,” she hissed. Mary was not thinking straight; she did not consider for one second that Jennifer might betray her. “I am going to get her away from him.”
She was more determined than ever to make Charlotte leave when she did. According to a letter she recently received from Walter, there were people interested in the house so it seemed like a sale would be made soon, then both girls could go. They would have to hide; they would probably have to take on new names to ensure that Lord Jones never found them, but Mary did not mind that. Anything to get Charlotte away from him.
The pair stayed together, holding hands for what felt like forever. The shouting subsided at some point, but they still did not feel comfortable enough to let go of the reassurance they were trying to offer one another. It was not until everything fell into silence that Mary forced herself to tear away.
“I suppose we should both try to get some sleep now,” she said morosely. “Charlotte will not want to see me now until the morning.”
Jennifer nodded without speaking. She did not trust herself not to blurt out the truth. When things got really bad, people did not see Lady Jones for days. She remained in hiding until her bruises went away. Maybe the couple thought that was disguising what really went on, but everyone knew. There was just nothing that any of them could do about it.
“Goodnight,” she said quietly while bobbing into a curtsy.
“Yes, goodnight.”
Both of them knew they would not get any sleep, but they also did not want to get caught by a very enraged Lord Jones. His temper was usually only reserved for his wife, but the time might come when it was not. Nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of that.
***
Charlotte stared at the fresh red mark at the top of her leg, wondering what her father would think of her now. He was so keen for her to marry Lord Jones; he continually told her what an amazing idea it was. Would he still feel the same way now after he had hurt her yet again? And this time it was because she was carrying his child. He justified it by suggesting it was because she did not tell him, but Charlotte knew by now there did not need to be an excuse.
Mary will know for sure by now, she thought sadly. She will feel sorry for me; she might even blame me. She might not want me to leave with her now because I am such a risk.
Mary was not like that really; deep down, Charlotte knew that she would want to help her more, but she was stuck in a pit of feeling pathetic and useless. She felt that at least some of the blame needed to lie with her. As the acute pain in her thigh slowly moved into a dull ache, Charlotte tried to force the guilt away with it. She felt so awful for the life she had started to lead.
Her beautiful dress was torn, her make-up smudged from where she had been crying, and her hair that had been styled so nicely before was now a big mess. Charlotte looked on the outside as she felt on the inside.
I cannot live like this forever, she thought with a small burst of determination. Not just for me, but for my baby.
She had only ever seen her parents being happy; she did not know how it would have affected her if they were not. She could only imagine that it would have destroyed her if they were like her and Lord Jones. It was not fair. She needed to do the right thing and get out now before her child could see it. Yes, it would also be wrong to raise a baby without a father, but some people were forced to do it, just as she had grown up with no mother. That was certainly the lesser of two evils.
Or so she hoped.
Chapter 21
Mary could not concentrate on anything that Charlotte was saying to her. She could see her sister’s lips moving, and she was very aware that there were words coming out of those lips, but her brain just could not hear them. It was as if there was something in her way, blocking her, preventing her from acting normally.
Something is wrong, she thought desperately as her gut twisted painfully. Something is very wrong.
She was not sure where the sudden burst of fear had come from or why she was so scared by it, but it was there, and it was very, very real. She glanced at Charlotte, trying to work out whether it had come from her or not. She knew that things were not good between her and her husband and th
at things had become even more strained since he finally discovered – in what sounded like a very unpleasant way – that she was having his baby, but that was not the source of her terror.
No, it is something outside of this house, she decided. Something is going on that is not in this house … but what?
Then it struck her.
“Oh my goodness,” she gasped loudly, her shoulders hunching up around her ears, her hands wringing together rapidly. “Oh, no.”
“Wait, what?” Charlotte could not understand why Mary was acting so strangely. Merely a moment ago, they were having an extremely calm conversation about what flowers Charlotte would have preferred the gardener to plant when it was springtime, and now Mary was acting as if something terrible had happened. “Mary, what is going on?”
“Walter,” Mary panted. “Mr Thompson. I have not heard from him in a while. I wrote to him quite a while ago, and I have not heard a reply.”
“Right.” Charlotte nodded slowly. She examined Mary closely, trying to work out what had her in such a panicked state. One that really seemed to come from nowhere. “I see. Why are you so worried about this? Does it not always take a while?”
“I do not know.” Mary could not explain it, even to herself. She just did not know. “But I have a feeling that it is bad news. He is usually very prompt. I do not know why, but I feel that something has happened.”
“You think the house has not sold?” Charlotte furrowed her brow in confusion. “I am sure Mr Thompson will let you know as soon as there is something to know. Why are you so worried? Is it because …”
Charlotte had the horrible feeling that her sister did not like it in her home. She did not like it there either, but there was nothing that she could do about that. Maybe she should have been preparing herself to lose Mary, eventually; she knew she could not remain indefinitely, but she had not. And now she was not ready to let her go.
“I believe we should go and see him,” Mary insisted frantically. “I do not know why, but I think I need to see him face to face to discover the truth.” She could see Charlotte giving her a confused look, and she did not know how to explain herself. “I cannot explain it, but there is something in my chest telling me that I need to go.” She opened her eyes wide, pleading with her sister. “Please, understand me. I know it is impossible to understand when I am acting so crazy, but please. Just believe me. Something is wrong; I just know it. I need to go and see for myself.”
“Yes,” Charlotte agreed rapidly. Not because she knew what Mary was trying to tell her, but because she wanted to get out of the house. She had not realised how isolated she had become until her sister came along and she started to make her go to all of these places; Mr Thompson’s home, their old house … she loved it all just because it was not here. “Of course, let us go. We will put your mind at ease. You will soon see that everything is just fine.”
Mary nodded and gulped. “Yes, I do hope that you are right.” But she did not believe that Charlotte was right. She had a feeling that her instincts were correct instead. “Thank you, Charlotte, I appreciate you taking this seriously.”
***
“He is gone.” Charlotte could not believe it. She clutched onto her stomach as shock swam around her rapidly. “You were right, Mary. He is gone.”
Neither girl could believe it; it was worse than either of them expected. They had both managed to relax on the journey to see Mr Thompson, even Mary started to convince herself that she had allowed her mind to get twisted up in knots because being inside Lord Jones’ home was driving her crazy, but now she could see that her instincts were right in the first place. She should have trusted her gut again.
“This … this might not be what it seems.” Mary gulped her emotion down. She needed to remain strong for Charlotte. Her sister had a child growing inside of her, and she needed to ensure that baby did not endure stress inside Charlotte’s womb because of this situation. But it was not easy to find anything to be positive about with the overwhelming evidence in front of them. “Maybe … maybe he has just moved home, and he forgot to tell us. Maybe that is the reason I have not received a letter from him. He simply forgot to tell me.”
Charlotte turned to give her sister a glare. “Do you really believe that is what happened?” Her hands fell onto her hips as a red-hot burning rage overcame her. “Do you honestly think that he forgot to tell you that he is selling his own home when he has been doing the same for us?”
“Well, I do not know.” Mary shrugged her shoulders as she tried so hard to find something else to offer Charlotte. The last thing she wanted was to accept what was standing right in front of her. “But it is possible …”
“It is not possible, Mary. You need to start thinking more sensibly. We need to work out what his motivation might have been.” Charlotte tapped her chin thoughtfully. “He did not seem to keen on your idea if we really think about it. He did not jump on the opportunity to do what you were suggesting, which was the easiest and most obvious solution.” Charlotte did not know where she was going with this train of thought, but it was running through her brain. “And why not? Did he have another plan all along? Something else that he wanted to do?” Charlotte pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, and she peered through the window. “Do you think it is possible he left Father’s will inside there? Maybe he did not give you all the information for a reason.”
“He was always very strange about it,” Mary replied carefully. “And he would not ever let me see it, but I do not think that Father would allow something horrible to happen to us …”
“No, I do not either.” Charlotte shook her head rapidly. “But maybe he did not want you to see that there was an alternative to marrying Duke Smith for a reason. Maybe … could he have been planning this all along?” She ran her fingers through her hair in distress. “Could he have wanted to sell our family home and steal the money?”
Mary’s heart thundered; she could feel it banging painfully against her ribcage. If what Charlotte was suggesting was the truth, then they were both stuck. Charlotte would not have an option to escape her terrible marriage if that was what she wanted, and Mary would not have anywhere to live. She would be lost, homeless, and penniless. She would have even less than the working class people that she saw. Mary tried to picture herself in that position, living in squalor, struggling for food, with nothing to wear … if she ended up like this, then her petty problems that she had right now would seem ridiculous. She would wish that she had just married Duke Smith when she had the chance, whatever he had done to other people.
A tear filled her eye; she could not accept this. This was not what she wanted to happen. She had made all these plans, and she wanted at least some of them to happen. For her and Charlotte’s sake. She could not believe that Walter would take off with her inheritance, leaving the girls with nothing. Maybe he would try to justify it by suggesting that she did not marry the Duke, that she did not marry anyone, but that was not fair. He did not deserve the money; it was never his.
Now, she could not help anyone. Not herself, not her sister, not Daisy.
I have let everyone down.
“How will we find out the truth?” she asked Charlotte, needing to rid her brain of any negative thoughts so she did not get lost within them. “What will we do?”
“We need to go to our house,” Charlotte said determinedly. “We need to see what is going on with our family home. That is the only way we will get our answers. There is still a chance that this is all innocent at the moment. There is no point in getting upset over something we do not fully understand.”
Mary pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away a stray tear. “Yes.” She nodded. “You are right, Charlotte. That is what we should do.”
Mary followed her sister away from Walter’s house, hating everything that was going on around her. She needed somehow for this to all be alright, but there was still that feeling in her gut that it was not … and her instincts had been right too many times.
***<
br />
As the girls walked back into Lord Jones’ home, it was with very heavy hearts. They were shell-shocked; they could hardly believe it. There was no scope for hope anymore; every shred of it had been slashed. There was truly nothing left.
“It is all gone,” Mary whispered. “I have nothing. I am destitute. The house has been sold; it now belongs to another family, and Walter is nowhere to be found. He has stolen the family fortune and left me with nothing. I thought …”
She stopped herself there because she did not know what she thought. She certainly did not think that she and Walter were friends; he had never shown her any like. But she never thought he was the sort of person who would do anything like this.
Charlotte felt it too, but not as acutely. She did not vocalise it at any rate. She had her husband and her home. Much as she did not like it, she still had that support network around her. Mary no longer had anything. It was her that would suffer. Right now, they both needed to focus all of their attention on her.
“No one will want to marry me now,” Mary continued, spiralling into sadness. “Not even His Grace, Duke Smith. Everyone will know that I have been foolish, that I have been robbed. Word about this will get around very quickly. I would not be surprised if everyone already knew. They will know that I have been foolish, that I have lost the family fortune.” She glanced up at Charlotte apologetically. “This will affect you too. It might make things worse … for you.”
“Do not worry about me,” Charlotte insisted, now taking on the role of trying to be strong. “I know it does not seem alright at the moment, but we shall find a way to make it work. Somehow, we will make all of this not so terrible.”
Charlotte reached out to embrace her sister, but Mary did not want anyone to hold her. She was trying her hardest to hold herself together, and any sympathy would send her right over the edge.
“No, I think I shall go to bed,” Mary said sadly. “I think I just need some time alone in my room if that is alright. I just need some time and space to think.”