Heart's Desire

Chapter Sixteen

Charity slept half the morning through. The sun was high as she stretched in bed. Julian, of course, was gone. The only evidence left of his presence was an indentation in his pillow.

A wince creased Charity's eyes as she sat up and felt a twinge of pain between her legs. Memories of last night came to the fore, and a small, secret smile lifted her lips. Standing, she donned her nightgown and a robe. After ringing for Wilcott, she noticed a piece of paper lying prominently in the center of her dressing table. With a smile, for she knew it must be from Julian, she read its contents:

I've gone to see my solicitor.

~Julian

A frown formed between Charity's brows. It was a bit terse with no salutation or endearment. Perhaps, upon further reflection, Julian was more upset with her deception than he'd let on last night? She'd been feeling better and somewhat cleansed after revealing the truth about the twins' parentage. Now, the old worry was back.

Why did Julian need to see his solicitor? And in person, at that.

Charity's eyes fell on her jewelry case. Another letter lay on top, face-up. With dread, she reached for it and read the first line. Her stomach dropped when she realized it was the unsent letter to Charles. The one detailing her concerns over the annulment, where she wrote such vitriolic words regarding Julian. He must have read it and left her promptly afterward.

Tipping back her head, Charity sent a humorless chuckle to the heavens. It was becoming a habit, Julian's misunderstanding of her role in the events of her life. Had he stayed and talked to her, she'd have told him that she'd written a second letter to her brother, one that told him to stop the proceedings. She'd have informed him that Charles hadn't consulted her before he'd begun the proceedings. But her husband left without confronting her and hearing an explanation. It hurt more, his abandoning her now that they were man and wife in truth.

"Good morning, my lady." Wilcott's happy greeting seemed a bit forced. Of course, the servants would know of Lord Wrotham's sudden departure before Charity did. It was likely why her lady's maid had waited to be summoned this morning.

Wilcott set the breakfast tray down on the dressing table. It was devoid of a rose. Noting its absence, Charity's mood plummeted into near depression.

"Where would you like to break your fast?" Wilcott asked with more forced cheer.

"Here is fine." In her fist, Charity clutched both letters. "I'd also like a bath."

"Yes, my lady." All signs of enthusiasm were gone. Wilcott's shoulders slumped before she left her mistress to see about ordering a bath.

Sitting at the small table, Charity nibbled on some dry toast. Footmen came some interminable time later, carrying up the hipbath and buckets of hot water. Wilcott was on their heels, directing their actions. Pushing the remainder of her breakfast around on her plate, she waited for them to finish their task.

The letters Charity stuffed in her robe pocket crinkled as she stood and disrobed. Wilcott helped to wash her hair but was dismissed soon after. Charity had no wish for company in her current state. She wanted to be alone in her misery.

It was more than an hour later, and the water had long grown chilled. Charity's lady's maid came back with Mrs. Rogers in tow. "It's time you were up and about, my lady," the older servant said as she brought a drying sheet to the bath. With a snap, she unfolded the large piece of cloth. "Up you get now."

Wilcott quietly left after laying a day dress out on the bed.

"Look at you, wrinkled as a prune," Charity's housekeeper gently scolded.