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to face them.

Had it been the rumbling waterfall or the fireworks bursting that had brought his memories to the surface again? Possibly. Or was it his feelings for Charlotte as well as the hope that accompanied them? He’d fallen asleep last night wondering what if...

What if a future with her was possible?

What if he was whole enough to be the husband she deserved?

But the nightmare had wiped away the possibility. He was only a shell of a man and a fragile one at that. He had no business spending time with her, let alone kissing her or holding her in his arms when he could never offer marriage.

Resolved to what must be done, he strode quickly to his desk and dipped his pen in the inkwell only to pause and press his free hand against his aching heart.

If only he were a normal man, healthy and whole. Then perhaps he could find a way to explain his feelings to Edward and properly court Charlotte.

But he wasn’t. After last night, he had no doubt. The passage of time hadn’t aided his condition in the least. If anything, it was worsening. He would never be a fit husband or father. How could he take care of someone else when he couldn’t take care of himself? Longing for something different was pointless.

He tightened his hold on the pen and wrote quickly before he could change his mind.

No. I wish you well.

J.

Then he folded the message, sealed it, and rang for his valet.

~*~

Charlotte glanced around the ballroom, hoping to see Margaret among the guests. She desperately needed to speak with her. She was the only one who might understand. Lord Samuelson would arrive at any moment, and she wanted someone to talk to before that.

The brief note she’d received from James had caused her heart to break. I wish you well. That was shockingly final. No explanation. No apology. While she didn’t understand the reason behind his curt reply, it hurt.

She thought they'd had a lovely time at Vauxhall Gardens. He seemed to overcome his unease once they’d moved away from the Cascade and had even enjoyed the tightrope performance. At least what they’d seen of it.

She might be inexperienced, but she also believed he'd enjoyed their kisses as much as she had. What had changed his mind?

As promised, Lord Samuelson had called on her that afternoon soon after she’d received James’ message. The conversation had been stilted and awkward. Though her mother had been present, she had made little effort to smooth over the long moments of silence. Did that mean her mother didn’t approve of Lord Samuelson either? Charlotte preferred to think that was the case rather than the possibility that she simply didn't care.

Lord Samuelson had spoken of the weather and his horse after complimenting her on her appearance. His visit had made her all the more aware of how dim her future looked. Especially without James.

“Lady Charlotte?”

Charlotte turned to see Lady Barbara at her side. “Good evening,” she said, attempting a smile.

“Isn't this a lovely ball?” Barbara looked around with interest, acting as if she had never attended one before.

While Charlotte normally enjoyed her enthusiasm, this was not one of those times. “Yes, isn't it?” She gritted her teeth at the inane reply. Then again, it matched the responses she’d given Lord Samuelson earlier in the day. How was she going to bear such conversations for the rest of her life?

To Charlotte’s surprise, Barbara leaned close. “We are thinking of attending another party.”

“What sort of party?” Though she had enjoyed the first one at Madame Bernard’s, she wasn't eager to attend another. She didn't want to go anywhere unless she was with James.

But he had made it clear he wasn’t interested.

I wish you well. Oh, how those words hurt.

“I don't know the exact details.” Lady Barbara giggled. “But it should be an exciting time.”

Just then Charlotte caught sight of Lord Samuelson walking toward her. A lump filled her throat. If she was going to endure marriage with a man such as him, why shouldn't she attend another party beforehand?

She returned her gaze to Barbara. “What time shall we meet and where?”

Lady Barbara's eyes widened with delight. “I will find out the details and advise you.”

“Perfect.” She needed some way to counter her despair. Another adventure seemed the best way to do so, even if this one would be without James.

Chapter Twelve

James sighed as he followed Edward into Mrs. Fairchild’s mansion two evenings later. The widow was notorious for her parties where anything and everything could happen and often did. Edward was continuing his pursuit of an opera singer and had high hopes to convince her to become his mistress this evening. He’d insisted James come along though James had only agreed reluctantly.

“I still think you should find someone to fill your empty nights,” Edward said. “You have been far too dour of late. This party might provide the perfect opportunity.”

James didn't bother to disagree. He’d tried to tell Edward he had no interest in women at the moment. Not after Charlotte. But he couldn’t explain the reason without rousing Edward’s curiosity. It was easier to pretend he was open to the possibilities of an assignation.

His misery had only increased since sending Charlotte that note. He hadn't realized how much the hope of seeing her held him aloft, much like a gentle breeze kept a feather floating in the air. Without that hope, he had little to hold his interest each day. Would Lord Samuelson soon fill the role of her protector? The thought had him clenching his jaw.

As they made their way through the crowded corridor toward the makeshift ballroom, he searched for a drink. He needed some sort of prop to endure the evening.

“This should prove interesting.” Edward smiled as he took in the bright collection of colors. A few guests wore costumes of one sort or another. One man was dressed in a surprisingly accurate depiction of King George.

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