upset a good deal of work with his solicitors if it was made known prematurely. Oh, and that it was not just for himself.”
Charlotte frowned, looking down at the rug in the room as she thought. “He’s not the sort to take up a risky venture, he’s only interested in certainty. What could take him there?”
“I wonder if it might have to do with Miss Palmer,” Emma mused. “I think that is her home county, but he doesn’t seem…”
Her voice faded in Charlotte’s ears as her mind spun the pieces of information together.
That was it. Michael was going to Derbyshire to meet with Diana Palmer’s father. He was going to offer marriage, and he had been arranging things with his solicitors to accommodate her dowry. He was settling matters for the rest of his family, now that he would be taking up residence in Crestor Grove with his new bride.
He was going to marry Diana.
Michael was getting married.
But that couldn’t be. Michael couldn’t get married, Michael loved Charlotte. He’d said so. He still loved Charlotte while he was courting Diana. He couldn’t marry one while loving the other. He couldn’t make Charlotte feel the way he did from just a dance and marry someone else.
She couldn’t let him.
Let him.
She had no power over him. She’d shut him out, after all. She had assured herself that he knew she had no feelings for him, that his actions did not affect her. Why shouldn’t he marry the young, beautiful, sweet Miss Palmer?
Even Charlotte thought Miss Palmer was lovely, so why shouldn’t Michael marry her?
Because Michael couldn’t marry anybody. Michael had to stay a bachelor. It would ruin everything, absolutely and utterly everything. London would not be London if he retreated to the country for good with his country-loving wife. It would be the worst possible thing if he married her and left London.
No, he could not marry anybody at all… except Charlotte.
Her lips slowly parted, her eyes widening.
Marry… her?
A single pant of breath escaped her lips, her lungs seeming to collapse with the force of it.
Heavens. She loved Michael.
She had always loved Michael.
She had lost Michael.
The breathless smile that had started shifted into a gaping expression of horror.
No! No, he couldn’t! She needed a chance to… She’d only just…
One hand flew to her mouth as she began to shake. She’d done everything in her power to put distance between them, to shut out the hurt he had caused her, and only now realized that the cuts had been so painfully deep because she had loved him.
Their friendship, the most treasured of her life, had turned to love at some point, some slight shift that she hadn’t even known. There had been no mad rush of it, no breathless anticipation of his touch, only the steady, comforting, abiding assurance of his care to accompany her every day. Knowing he would be there, that she could confide in him, that he would do anything for her. More than that, knowing that she would do anything for him. Not that he would ask, but that she would.
They had felt just as strongly about each other, only he knew what it was. Her change had been so subtle, her attraction to him so gradual that until this moment, she had been entirely unaware of it.
Well, perhaps not entirely. There had been that electrifying kiss, after all, and she had been more than pleased to engage in that with him.
Because it was him.
The madness she had felt would not have been the same were the man anyone else. The unrelenting waves of passion crashing over her in his arms had been a dam of emotions she hadn’t known she’d been holding inside her.
How many times had he tried to tell her he’d loved her, and she hadn’t seen? Or hadn’t wanted to see? How many opportunities had she wasted due to her ignorance?
Now it was too late. She’d given him the closure he needed in order to finalize his plans with Diana. He was finalizing it now. Might have already done. He could even now be on his way back to London with her father’s permission. Bound to her already.
Michael would never jilt Diana.
It was over. She had lost. She hadn’t even begun, and already she was done.
“Charlotte?”
Charlotte blinked and slowly looked at Emma, and only then realized a pair of tears were slowly making their way down her frozen cheeks. “I love him.”
Emma’s brows creased and she put a hand on Charlotte’s arm, looking her over.