Seduced At Sunset (20 page)

“And you believe that a woman requires a man in order to
be happy?” Adelaide asked. “Come now, Charlotte. This is
me
you are talking to. I know you better than that.”

Charlotte accepted a glass of sherry from the footman who
presented it on a silver tray. She held it up, as if to toast their shared
modern ideas about happiness and independence.

“I do not believe a woman requires a man to be happy,”
Charlotte said, “but I will not deny that the
right
man can bring about a curious and unexpected wealth of excitement in a
woman’s...” She paused. “
Heart
.”

Adelaide raised her sherry glass as well. “I wholly
agree.”

They sipped their drinks and contemplated this universal
wisdom.

“We have written to each other, you know,” Adelaide said,
out of the blue.

Charlotte inched a little closer on the sofa. “Who? You
and William?”

“Yes. Please do not be angry, Charlotte, but I told him
about your friendship with Mr. Torrington, how he helped you that day, and that
we invited him to Pembroke to thank him. William was very happy for you, but
our letters went somewhat beyond that. He wrote to me about his work, which I
am always so very eager to hear about.”

“You are back in touch with each other?” Charlotte asked.
“I am so pleased to hear it.”

Adelaide looked down at her lap. “I am pleased, too, but
at the same time I feel uneasy.”

“How so?”

“For one thing, you told me he is courting someone else,
and he has been very open about it. I know it to be so, yet I still correspond
with him. I cannot help but feel that is wrong. I certainly would not
appreciate it if he were
my
gentleman caller and he
was secretly corresponding with an old flame.”

“You are not an old flame, Mother. You are much more than
that. What exists between you and Dr. Thomas is a deep, lifelong love. If there
is another woman involved, she is the flame that could—and
should—be snuffed out.”

“Charlotte,” Adelaide scolded with a frown. “We know
nothing about this woman or what exists between her and William. She could be
deeply in love with him, while I have broken his heart time and time again. If
there is any justice in the world, she shall win him, and I will have my heart
stomped upon. Lord knows I deserve it.”

“So you
do
feel more than
friendship,” Charlotte said. “But how can you say that you deserve to be
miserable?”

“It is the truth. He has always been there for me, and I
always took advantage, yet I never gave anything in return. I never sacrificed
anything for him, and he knows it.”

“Sacrifice. That is an interesting word. Do you believe it
is a necessary requirement for love? Must we prove our love by giving something
up? Or is it enough just to accept and give our love?”

“I have taken so much from William.”

“That is not true. He must know how you respect him. Put
the past behind you, Mother. If he got down on his knee today and proposed
marriage, would you say yes? Would you give him your whole heart for the rest
of your life?”

Adelaide’s eyes lifted, and they were wet with emotion.
“Yes. I would marry him tomorrow if he asked, and I would spend every waking
moment making up for lost time, and thanking him for always being at my side.
For putting my happiness before his own. For never betraying my trust. He is a
selfless human being, and I love him for it.”

Charlotte clasped her mother’s hand and felt a deep
stirring of certainty. Adelaide and William
were
meant to be together. Charlotte’s clumsy attempt at matchmaking was not yet
done for.

She thought about regret and second chances for love.
About her parents.

Love was a precious thing, not to be guarded against or
squandered. But isn’t that what she’d advised herself to do with Drake? Wasn’t
she letting go of love when she should try to grasp it forever?

Suddenly her path was clear.

“Will you come back to London with me?” Charlotte asked.
“I have two weeks to spend with a man I am mad about, and life is too short to
throw away such precious opportunities.”

“Of course I will come,” her mother replied.

Later that night, Charlotte sat down at her desk to write
not one, but two letters. She began with the one that would be most brief.

Dear Mr. Torrington,

I will return to London on Wednesday. May I join you at dawn
the following morning for a rendezvous on the river? I will be waiting at the
usual time.

-C

She sealed the letter, quickly penned the address, and set
it aside.

Next she considered how best to begin the second letter,
for this one was a bit more complicated, and she was rather conflicted about
whether or not she should even send it. Drake had told her she shouldn’t meddle
in other people’s love lives, but that was before he knew that the gentleman
she wanted for her mother was her very own father. What would he say now? She
guessed his response would be different.

Charlotte and Adelaide had been gone from London for
nearly a week, and Charlotte could not bear to think that William’s ‘lady
friend’ might be sinking her hooks deeper into him with every passing moment.
Charlotte needed William to know that Adelaide would be returning soon. So she
began to write...

Dear William,

I know you told me not to meddle, but there are times when a
lady can do nothing but follow her heart, so meddle, I must...

Chapter Seventeen

William was tired after his evening at the opera, for
he’d been up until dawn the previous night with a patient suffering from
seizures. No other physician in the city could ascertain the cause of the
seizures. He had his own theories of course, but could confirm nothing at this
early stage, and the family was most distraught.

His spirits were lifted, however, when he noticed two
letters in the salver by the door, both of which must have been delivered while
he was out.

He picked them up and recognized the penmanship on each
one, and sighed with a welcome feeling of serenity. He would take both letters
to the library, pour himself a brandy, and put his feet up on the upholstered
stool to read them by the fire.

A short while later, he was doing just that. First, he
read Adelaide’s letter, for he could not resist it. He had been waiting for
news about her time in Pembroke with Charlotte and her young gentleman caller. He
was riveted by every word. Then he read the letter a second time.

Adelaide sounded cheerful, so much like the young girl he
knew and loved in Yorkshire. It was as if not a single day stood between past
and present. She was still the same, and the connection he felt to her defied
reason and science.

Adelaide
... As he ran a finger
over her elegant penmanship, he felt as if she were right there in this room
beside him. He could feel the warmth of her presence, and he almost believed
she could read his thoughts from afar. That somehow she knew he was reading her
letter at this very moment, and she was thinking of him, as he was thinking of
her.

Then William thought of Dorothea and pinched the bridge of
his nose. He took a deep swig of the brandy, set down the glass, and opened
Charlotte’s letter.

Dear Dr. Thomas,

I know you told me not to meddle, but there are times when a
lady can do nothing but follow her heart, so meddle, I must. Mother and I have
decided to return to London on Wednesday.

William’s heart leapt.
That was
tomorrow. He continued to read.

I am not certain how long we will stay, but I suspect a
fortnight or so. There is another reason for my letter, however. I felt I must
reveal an important truth to you.

I still remember what you said to me in your office the last
time I visited, and I understand that you have moved on with your life and do
not wish to return to an existence of hopeless dreams and disappointments. I
understand it very well, for you and I have both been forced to build fortresses
around our hearts. We do not dare to dream or fight for a happy ending, for we
know too well the unbearable agony of such a defeat.

So I write to tell you this vital fact, my dear, beloved
father... There will be no defeat this time, only triumph if you choose to
seize it. I spoke to Mother this evening, and she told me that she would marry
you tomorrow if you asked. She loves you, William, and always has.

Yes, I am betraying her confidence by revealing this to you,
for she does not know I am writing, but I am certain that she will forgive me
if it brings the two of you together at last. I simply could not risk the
possibility that you might take steps in another direction if you did not know
the full truth and have a chance to contemplate the absolute certainty of your
success.

She loves you, as do I. Now it is up to you to choose your
path. Whatever you decide, I will honor it. I will embrace your lady if she is
the one you truly want, but I could not let you move forward without knowing
all the relevant particulars.

—Charlotte

William set down the letter, gazed into the dancing flames
of the fire, and wept uncontrollably.

When he recovered his composure, he poured himself another
drink and pondered the two letters he had just received.

There was still a part of him that was angry with Adelaide
for all the pain she had caused him throughout his life, and for betraying the
undying love that had existed between them—at least on his side. A part
of him wanted to disappoint her, but that was his pride bucking.

All his life he had been there for Adelaide, steady and
devoted, forgiving her for the choices she had made. But had it really been her
choice to marry the duke? She had once told him she’d had none, and he did
believe that she walked down the aisle only to save him from her father’s
brutality. If only she could have trusted William to survive and come to her
rescue.

But he had not come to her rescue, had he? Not after she
signed her name to that marriage certificate. Instead he had fled the country
and thrown himself into a pit of rage and despair. Oh, how he had loathed her
at times. So much so that he had left her to the duke, who had turned her life
into a living hell. Perhaps William should have returned for her instead of
leaving...

So who was to blame for their separation? For all the lost
years? They’d both played their parts, contributed to the sorrow, yet here they
were, decades later, and life was not so wretched. Adelaide had raised five
beautiful children, and he had been free to devote his entire life to the study
of science and medicine. He was pleased with what he had accomplished, and he
knew Adelaide would never regret the life she had lived.

What path should he choose?

He thought of Dorothea again, who had been such an
agreeable companion this Season. She was in love with him. There was no
question about it, and he had been flattered by her attentions. But he did not
love her in return. Not as he loved Adelaide, the true mate of his soul.

Yes. There it was. The truth in all its radiant glory.
Adelaide was his one true love.

Better to end it now with Dorothea, before promises were
made.

Oh, Lord. He knew exactly how it felt to be rejected.

He would not enjoy hurting her.

Dorothea Torrington had just handed her opera cloak over
to the butler when she spotted a letter on the table in the hall. She moved
quickly to pick it up, read the return address, then slipped it into the folds
of her gown and said, “Is my son at home?”

“No, madam. He has been out all evening.”

“I see. And when did the mail arrive?”

“A private courier came an hour ago.”

“Very good. Thank you. Will you have Mrs. March send up
some claret and warm biscuits?”

“Right away.”

A few minutes later, she was alone in her boudoir,
unfolding the letter addressed to her son.

Dear Mr. Torrington,

I will return to London on Wednesday and would like to join
you at dawn the following morning for another rendezvous on the river. I will
be waiting at the usual time.

—C

Wednesday? That was tomorrow! Dorothea clenched her jaw
and crumpled the letter furiously in a fist. A rendezvous at dawn... It was
just as she suspected—a torrid affair that could quite possibly ruin
everything.

Oh, how could Drake be such a fool? He was here for the
summer only. What was he thinking, becoming involved in
that
way with the daughter of a duke?

More importantly, the daughter of Adelaide Sinclair,
Dowager Duchess of Pembroke, of all people.

Oh yes, Dorothea knew the history behind the dowager’s
acquaintance with William. Recently Dorothea had watched him dance with
Adelaide at the Halloway Ball, had seen the spark of familiarity between them,
and the attraction. There had been some whisperings of a former courtship
between them. According to London gossip, they had been raised on neighboring
estates in Yorkshire and were once promised to each other... All speculation of
course.