Charming Sir Charles (Dashing Widows 5)

Why the devil were people always asking her that? The only person she really didn’t trust was herself. “Of course I do.”

“Then?”

On a shuddering sob, Sally gave up the struggle. “It’s so hard to explain.”

“Try.”

She straightened and drew an unsteady breath. “Everything is a complete mess.”

“Let me guess.” Morwenna led her back to the sofa and sat beside her, holding her hand. “Meg and Sir Charles were caught in a compromising position, and he refuses to do the right thing and restore her reputation.”

Sally’s brief laugh was devoid of amusement. “No, it’s much worse than that.”

“Worse?”

“Yes. It turns out I had everything wrong, from the very beginning. He doesn’t want to marry Meg, and she doesn’t want to marry him.”

Morwenna sighed with relief. “I’m glad. To me, they never seemed right together. In fact, you and Sir Charles always seemed a better fit.”

For one horrified moment, Sally stared at her friend. Then she released a choked breath and burst into the tears that had hovered all day.

How humiliating. Where was the proud woman who had kept up appearances all through her awful marriage? Love had turned her into a complete wreck. She buried her wet face in her shaking hands and struggled to control this outburst, but it was impossible.

“Oh, Sally, I hate to see you so miserable,” Morwenna said, passing her a handkerchief.

Her friend’s sympathy finally shattered Sally’s reticence. In confused, broken sentences, she confessed the events of that trip back from Leicestershire, with the exception of her fall from grace on the chaise longue.

Sally wiped her stinging eyes and dragged in a broken breath. When she bit her lip, she tasted the salt of her tears. “So you can see why I have to send Meg away.”

Morwenna’s gaze was searching. Something in her expression hinted that she’d guessed more than conversation had taken place in the isolated hunting lodge. “She’s behaved disgracefully, I agree. But on the other hand, you’d never have given Sir Charles the chance to declare himself if Meg hadn’t taken a hand.”

Sally stiffened and tried to summon her anger, but crying had left her weary to the point of exhaustion. Crying, and barely a wink of sleep over the last week. Whenever she drifted off, her mind returned to those rapturous, heartbreaking moments when Charles had moved inside her. She’d rather spend the night staring up at the ceiling and calling herself every name under the sun for her stupidity than revisit that passionate interlude.

“I didn’t want him to declare himself,” she muttered. She tore savagely at the lace handkerchief between her hands.

“Why not?” Morwenna cast her an unimpressed glance. “You’re head over heels in love with him. Aren’t you glad that he loves you, too?”

“I’m not…” She hadn’t confessed her feelings for Charles either, but Morwenna knew her too well. Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, all right, yes. I do love him. But it’s completely out of the question.”

Morwenna shook her head in disbelief. “Sally, I think you’re a lunatic.”

Sally stood up and began to pace. “Didn’t you listen to me? I’m older than he is.”

“Only a few years. Not enough to matter. You’ve convinced yourself you’re past the age of romance—I think because you can’t bear the thought of being hurt again, after the hell Norwood put you through.”

Sally stiffened. She hated to hear people refer to her failure as a wife. “His lordship was all that was correct.”

Morwenna made a dismissive noise. “I didn’t know Lord Norwood. But everything I’ve heard tells me he was a narrow-minded bully, too beef-witted to appreciate the wonderful wife fate placed in his care.”

“I don’t want to marry again,” Sally said, too upset to call up any stronger defense of her late husband. Anyway, Morwenna was right.

“I can understand you feel like that. But you need to start looking at the facts. Sir Charles isn’t anything like Norwood. For a start, Charles loves you.”

“Stop saying that.”

Morwenna stood up and faced her. “Why? It’s true.”

“He can’t marry me.” Sally stopped her restless marching about and scowled at her friend. “I’m barren.”