Chapter 10: Shifting emotions

Charlotte found it hard to decipher Sidney and follow his mood swings despite spending a considerable amount of time analysing him. Truth was that she spent most of her waking hours thinking about her husband and most of her sleeping ones dreaming of him but did not come much closer to understanding him. Just when she thought she was beginning to know him he changed again.

Before, during and the days right after the visit to Willingden much of what he did and said indicated that he wanted to know her better and wanted to spend time with her. He had not forced himself on her but seemed glad to offer his company and gradually she had enjoyed it more and more and wanted to spend time with him. Her budding affections had been nurtured by the intimacy in Willingden, his efforts to fit in there and how well everyone liked him. She had always respected her family's opinion so of course it mattered that her parents approved of him and Alison thought she had married well. Her sister's conviction that Sidney had feelings for Charlotte was certainly good for thought and there were moments when she wondered if this marriage could turn into something more than what it had started as. Therefore she was equally surprised and hurt when he suddenly withdrew soon after their return to London. Naturally, she had expected the physical signs of affection to cease, as they only were for show, but the change was more profound than so. If he had sought her company before, he now seemed to shun it and she could not understand what had provoked the shift.

Most days he left the house early and arrived home very late, without telling her anything of his doings. She was usually in bed already and ought to be sleeping but found it difficult to find peace when he was away and often did not fall asleep until she heard his steps outside. Sometimes they paused outside her door, but he never knocked.

One afternoon they bumped into each other in the hallway when he was on his way out after a brief stop at home to change clothes, and she noticed he had a black eye, but he offered no explanation. When she spontaneously raised her hand to touch the bruise he flinched, gave her a curt smile and hurried off. He had shut her off completely. It hurt.

When she first came to this house and he left her to herself, she had been annoyed and restless to stay in what she perceived almost as a jail. Now her feelings were very different. She did not mind the house or being married. She missed him. With him gone the house felt so empty. When he did not want to be with her or share things with her, she felt rejected.

During night time her dreams continued to be as vivid as in Willingden and evolved from quite innocent to increasingly fiery. He went from always being asleep in the dreams to waking up when she touched him. When he caught her caressing him, he was never annoyed with her, instead he smiled in acceptance and then touched her in return. She dreamt of his large hands softly stroking over her skin, tangling themselves in her hair and pulling her to him in a kiss but soon the dreams left her oddly dissatisfied because she did not have the knowledge to dream what came next. She had no experience of what it would feel like to be cared for like that by a man. She usually woke up flushed and hot with a wave of need for more gushing through her. Each time it was utterly disappointing to find the bed empty and cold beside her. She wished he had at least been sleeping there again like when they were in her parents' house.

The fact that he seemed to avoid her, disturbed her more and more as the days went by and she was feeling incredibly lonely. She wrote letters to Alison, who wrote her in return, but letters travelled much too slowly. Charlotte was missing conversation and company desperately, but most of all she missed Sidney's presence.

'Sometimes you know me better than I do myself dear sister.' she wrote Alison. 'I think, no I fear, that I have fallen in love with my husband. Alas, you were quite mistaken in regard to his affections towards me. He does not return my feelings. At least I see no signs thereof. Truth is that in the last weeks I have barely seen him at all.'

Finally, after another restless night when she had been lying awake for hours after waking up from an intense dream of him, she decided to confront him. Not with her feelings but with her lack of social life and the way he avoided her. She could not live a half-life confined between the four walls of this house. She needed something more to occupy herself with even if he did not want to give her his own precious time and so took the bull by its horns.

When he was faced with the question if he regretted marrying her, he so matter-of-factly explained his view on the arrangement, making it blatantly clear there were no emotions involved for his part and he had more important things to do than keeping her company. It hurt, it really did, but at least he offered to introduce her to his friends, and she realised she had to be thankful for something to distract her mind with.

Over the next weeks Sidney brought her to all sorts of social engagements and kindly watched over her almost like a big brother, and she sensed that with that there was a shift in him again. He still kept his distance but sometimes when she sat conversating with Esther, she caught him observing her from the other end of the room with a strange intensity to his gaze and a look that resembled pride. She had the feeling that at least he was not ashamed of her and did not regret bringing her into his social circle. She felt happier and thought that in time, perhaps, they might grow closer after all. One day he might admire her and long for her like she longed for him even if it seemed like an elusive dream now. Perhaps she could be content with this life in hope that in time it would evolve into something more.

Then came the ball and turned everything upside down again.

She was looking forward to the event for many reasons. She was curious to experience what a London ball was like and hoping to get to dance, something she enjoyed very much but rarely had had the opportunity to do in Willingden. She wondered if any of the fashionable high society gentlemen would care to dance with her, but as she tried to make herself look pretty for the night she was aware it was all for him. Dressing herself in her new amazing gown, arranging her locks, pinching her cheeks for colour, it was all for him. Only for him. She did not care a fig about anyone else. All she hoped for was to see a glimmer in Sidney's eyes indicating that he found her slightly attractive, that he was proud that she was his wife. If she saw any sign of that, her night would be complete, even if not a single person asked to dance with her.

When she walked down the stairs to meet her waiting husband, she knew she had never been prettier than she was in this moment. The deep disappointment when he held out her pelisse, looking away without so much as a word, nearly stunned her.

"Will it not do?" she could not help asking.

Then he gave her a brotherly, encouraging smile and told her it would do very well, but she felt like she had fished for the compliment, forcing him to say something, when he in truth did not care for the way she looked. Her husband remained completely unattracted to her. If he did not think her beautiful when she looked like this, he never would.

The ball was sumptuously spectacular, but she found it hard to enjoy herself. Initially she thought that if she was not enough in his eyes, she would hardly be in other's either. Then she noticed how flattering and charming other men were to her, seeking her company. They requested a dance or offered to fetch her refreshments, but this made her feel mostly uncomfortable. She was married and she was in love with her husband even if he neither knew nor cared, so she did not aim to seek the attention of other men. She would not shame Sidney by acting flirtatious towards others even if he paid little attention to her. She was not the type of woman who would try to make him feel jealous.

It seemed like he did not intend to dance with her, but Lord Babington's jokes that he for sure had to be the one to introduce her to such pleasures, made him reluctantly ask her and she accepted. How could she not say yes to dancing with her husband, even if she was not sure if she longed for it or dreaded it?

Again, he had surprised her. When the musicians began playing, his blank expression transformed, and his focus was suddenly on her alone. He stepped closer and pulled her to him, holding her like he never had before. She had envisioned him to lead her in the dance with stiff politeness, but instead he held her with a combination of gentleness and determined strength. Unexpectedly she was wrapped up in a cocoon of sensuality and passion. There was an almost feral look to his eyes as he stared into hers, as if the dance drew out something he had tried to hide deep within. It would have scared her, had it not been that it evoked similar, wild and unfamiliar feelings in her. The way he watched her, held her, made her long to be alone with him in their bedchamber. She was enthralled by him, followed his every move with a fluidness she had not known she was capable of. She wanted to be one with him, merge with him without knowing how.

When the dance was over, she remained completely lost in him, dazed and confused. What was it he had allowed himself to show, allowed her to see a glimpse of during the dance? Was he not indifferent after all, but the contrary?

She kept watching him intently, thinking he might say something but instead his expression changed again, like he woke up from a trance and wondered what the he hell had been doing.

When he abruptly left her to herself on the dancefloor, she did not understand. How could he turn his back to her after sharing that and go to speak to another woman, without even bringing her? Incredulous Charlotte saw him approach a lady she did not know. It was a striking blonde beauty, tall and slender like a willow and so very different from her own short and curvier statue. Moments ago she had relished feeling small in his arms, seeing him next to that woman she suddenly wished she looked different.

"Is anything the matter?"

Esther had appeared by her side.

"No, I just… it was a wonderful dance and I got a bit caught up in it."

"I could see why." Esther smirked.

"Why?"

"Because you and Sidney looked almost nauseatingly in love when you were dancing. Most inappropriate even for a married couple, but I envy you", her friend chuckled.

She was close to denying it but bit her tongue. For all Esther knew they were in love.

"I am glad to know the two of you are so happily married or I would have been worried seeing Sidney talking to that minx."

Anxious, Charlotte turned and saw him still engaged in conversation with the blonde woman.

"An old acquaintance he said. Who is she?"

She tried to sound casual and ignore the uneasy flutter of jealousy in her stomach.

"Oh, you don't know? That is Mrs. Eliza Campion. She recently became one of the wealthiest widows in the country, but long ago she was engaged to Sidney. I'm sure he didn't tell you because there is not much to tell. It must have been ten years ago."

Why did she feel like the walls were closing in on her?

"He told me he had been engaged once but I didn't know she was here in London."

"I heard she returned from her country estate when her husband died. I think it might be the first time he has encountered her since."

Esther scrutinised the two with narrowed eyes.

"She looks like she wouldn't mind to renew the acquaintance now, but obviously she has nothing to fetch there as he is so madly in love with his wife."

Knowing well that he likely was not, even if the dance had been special, Charlotte's heart was thumping very hard in her chest now.

"But how could she even think so, when he is a married man?"

"Ah, women like her are the most dangerous ones. Perhaps she does not know he is married but perhaps she knows and does not care. She is a widow in possession of a fortune, so she never has to marry again. She is completely independent and as long as she is reasonably discreet she can do whatever she wants because she does not need to bother much about her reputation. I bet she would not hesitate to take a married man as her lover, perhaps even think it is for the better because then she knows there cannot be any proposal, just a pleasurable arrangement."

"A pleasurable arrangement? People do such things?"

Charlotte was shocked. Obviously she knew men went to brothels and some had mistresses, but the idea that a respectable lady could take a man she knew was married as her lover was scandalous on a different level.

"Men do it all the time. You should only know how many among the high society men that have mistresses on the side. You and I are lucky who have found ourselves men who adore us."

Charlotte thought that Esther was indeed lucky, but things were different for her own part.

"But ladies?"

"As I said, there is a small number of ladies who are wealthy and independent so they can do as they wish. Discretion is of utmost importance to them of course, or they would be banned from all social life, but it does happen. The Prince Regent himself is rumoured to have an affair with such a lady, Lady Worchester. Of course everyone is fighting to be acquainted with her. That liaison is accepted by everyone."

Charlotte's mind spun.

"Do you mean to say that if I was not sure Sidney loved me, I would have reason to worry about Mrs. Campion?"

"No doubt. Just look at how she touches his arm now, a discreet but definite invite. Oh, Charlotte, you look absolutely devastated but I'm sure you have nothing at all to worry about. He will turn her down or politely pretend like nothing."

She wished she had been as convinced as Esther. There had been something tangible shivering in the air between them during the dance, but Mrs. Campion's appearance and the fact that he chose to stand over there with her instead of here with Charlotte, made her doubt what she thought she experienced.

"Men usually seek other company in their bed only if it is not kept warm by their wife. If you feel worried by Mrs. Campion after all, just make sure to be extra affectionate when you come home tonight."

The heat in the room and the surrounding crowd suddenly made her feel like she could not breathe properly, and she excused herself and went searching for a balcony where she could get some fresh air. She wanted to escape the sight of Mrs. Campion touching Sidney's arm possessively.

Further down a long hallway she eventually found a room where the double doors to a balcony stood open and she inhaled the chilly fresh air as if she was a fish on dry land, finally allowed to return into the water.

"Is anything the matter?"

She nearly jumped, realising she was not alone in the room. When she turned around she noticed a very elegant lady seated on a chaise longue, her kind brown eyes fixed on Charlotte.

"I just needed some air."

"Are you sure, you look quite distressed my dear. Come sit here." She patted the seat beside her.

Apprehensively Charlotte walked over and sat down.

"Now, please tell me what is troubling you."

"I cannot. You do not even know me."

"I find that sometimes it is easier to share your troubles with a stranger, someone who will not be around to judge you or check if you live up to the advice they give." She smiled. "And if it makes it easier to confide in me, I am Susan."

"I'm Charlotte Heywood… Parker I mean. I'm Mrs. Parker."

Susan raised her eyebrows.

"It sounds like you are not certain? That means either that you married very recently, or you are uncertain about your marriage. Which is it?"

"Both I suppose."

Charlotte hesitated. It seemed very inappropriate to tell Susan anything, but she was desperate to confide in someone.

"We married not so long ago, only two months. We did not marry for love but for reasons I cannot share with you."

"It sounds like there might be a hidden scandal?" Susan mused.

"There nearly was but he saved me from that. He offered to marry me even if he does not care for me, to save my reputation and I accepted. I did not want to marry him but saw myself forced to, but now…"

"Now?"

"Everything has changed, and I don't know what to think anymore."

"Your feelings has changed?"

"Yes, but his have not."

"How do you know? You said he does not care for you but judging by his actions it seems like he cared a great deal."

"He may care but only because he is a good man. He does not have romantic feelings for me, and I know that because he does not want my company. When we had to share bed a few nights he did not even try to touch me, there has been nothing to indicate he has feelings for me lately except…"

"Yes?"

"When we danced tonight, the way he held me and looked at me then. He was so different then and now I am totally confused."

"I see why you would be befuddled. Dear Charlotte, I would say that a dance is as close as a man and woman ever get to what married couples do in the privacy of their bedchamber outside of said bedchamber. If you felt during the dance that he has feelings for you, I think your instinct is right. It is likely so that he let emotions that he normally represses shine through during the dance."

"You think so?"

"I think it is very likely. I have not met your husband but meeting you I am thinking that any man would be foolish not to appreciate a wife like you."

"What should I do?"

"Does he know how you feel?"

"No!"

"If you love him, tell him."

It was unimaginable.

"If I don't dare?"

"Show him. I cannot imagine anything sadder than a couple who love each other, spending their lives together without telling one another. You need to be brave my girl."

"There is another woman here tonight who I think may try to claim him. One he was engaged to once."

"As you are wed that would be shameful of her indeed, and if he is in love with you she does not stand a chance. A man can never be conquered if he already is in love. He is your husband to the name, now make sure to let him know you want him to be for real. Claim him. He is yours."

She wished she could ask Susan what a wife was supposed to do in the marital bed except just lying there but that would have been asking too much from a stranger even if she was kind and understanding and seemed well-versed in matters like this.

This night, both Esther and Susan had in their different ways encouraged her to visit her husband's bed and she was beginning to think that maybe, maybe she should.

Several times already she had brought out the key Sidney had given her to safeguard. She had longed to open that door but not dared, because she had not thought he wanted it and because she did not know what to expect on the other side. The look in his eyes tonight, the spark of jealousy Mrs. Campion provoked in her and the advice she had received made her think that perhaps it was time to take the leap.

When she returned to the others after saying goodbye to Susan, Sidney was already there. He seemed very distracted and she was not sure he even had registered she had been gone and after another half-hour of brooding silence, he asked if she would mind going home. She wondered about his behaviour. Either she had been mistaken about the fire in his eyes before or he had hidden it well again. She hoped it was the latter and tried to hang on to the hope Susan had induced in her rather than the jealousy Esther unintentionally had caused her to feel.

In the carriage home he did not utter one word and upon arrival at Bedford place he politely bid her goodnight before she went up the stairs. He remained standing at the bottom of the stairs and when she glanced down over her shoulder and saw him still watching her in the flapping candle light, she thought she caught a glimpse of the same raw emotion she had seen during the dance. It lasted only for a second before he dropped his gaze and in the dim light she could not be sure, but it was enough for her to make up her mind. No matter how terrifying it was to take the step she would visit his room this night.

In her chambers she took her time to nervously prepare. She pulled off the gown, chemise, drawers and stays, washed herself and put on a dab of perfume. Then she brought out the beautiful nightgown her mother had gifted her and pulled it over her head. She removed the hairpins to let her hair fall lose around her shoulders. Her heart was beating faster by the minute. She was not sure she had the courage to do this, but the need to finally be with him as his wife exceeded her fears. She stopped in front of the full-length mirror to look at herself and realised she was even more beautiful than she had been earlier tonight, she looked like a blushing bride on her wedding night with the thin material of the nightgown enticingly giving away her forms rather than hiding them. She thought it brazen to appear in front of him like this, but as her mother had thought it suitable for a wedding night then so be it.

When she at last brought out the key from the jewellery box where she kept it, the cool metal felt like it burned her palm, almost pulsating like a live thing.

Trembling she padded over to the door. She stopped there for a moment, leaning her forehead to the solid wood, bracing herself, before she with shaking hands put she key in the lock and turned it around.

What would he say? Would he welcome her? She had to know.

Silently the door swung open on its hinges, but she remained frozen in the doorway. Nearly an hour had passed since they returned home and there was no reason why he would not be in bed by now, yet the moonlight shining through the window revealed an empty room. The bed was uncrumpled, untouched. He was not there and had not been.

With an unmotivated sense of embarrassment, as no one was there to see her, she hastily backed away, closed the door and locked it again. Her cheeks burned with shame almost as if he had been there to reject her in person. She put away the key in the box again, before she jumped into her own bed and hid under the quilt with tears burning in her eyes. She was not sure why, but she sensed deep inside that it was a bad sign that his bed was empty. He ought to have been there. Where had he gone in the middle night?

She slept badly, with a strange pressure over her chest and when morning came she was more tired than when she went to bed. With an ominous feeling in her gut she went down the stairs, wondering if he would be there for breakfast and what mood she would find him in. She now regretted going to his room in the first place. What signs of affection had he really shown her to make her feel that it was the right thing to do? How unwise of her to follow the advice of a stranger who did not know him. It was fortunate that he had not been there, thus sparing her from deep embarrassment.

She almost stumbled over him in the library, slouching in an armchair, wearing the same attire as yesterday but now wrinkled and disordered, with the cravat untied. There were dark circles under his eyes, a stubble on his chin and his usually so neat hair was dishevelled. An empty tumbler and a half empty bottle of brandy were standing on the table next to him. He looked exhausted, hungover or still drunk and very much like he had not slept in his own bed.
She wondered if he had slept in any bed.

Had he slept or been awake in Mrs. Campion's bed?
When he met her eyes, the look in his was hollow and he did not light up in a smile. The man who had held her so close in the dance yesterday was gone, as was the one who happily had accompanied her to the dressmaker and laughed with her over maps. This one felt like a stranger, almost more intimidating than the first time she had met him because now there was a coldness in his eyes.

If she had not been certain last night when she found his bed empty, she was now - he was not hers and he never would be.

"There you are", he said with coarse voice, like he had been waiting for her and she had taken too long to come.
"Were you waiting for me?"
"I need to talk to you."
Her heart skipped a beat and she sat down on the nearest chair because her legs felt wobbly. There was something about his voice, his manners that provoked the reaction.

"I have been thinking…"

He looked like he had been carousing rather than thinking, or perhaps something worse. The mere thought made her feel like crying and vomiting simultaneously. He avoided eye contact as he continued talking.

"I thought this fake marriage would be easier than it has proved to be. I did not think having you around would interfere much with my daily life, but I was wrong. It bothers me that you always are around, so I never feel like I have my own house to myself anymore. It is like I cannot find peace here anymore and that drains me."

The words pouring out of him hurt and sucked the air out of her, much like a punch in the stomach.

"I am obliged to accompany you to social events, introduce you to people, dance with you… it just goes on. I don't even get to see my friends alone anymore because you need to be entertained."

Another punch. His words were mean and hurtful. She knew she should talk back and tell him he was behaving badly. She would have if anyone else had talked to her like that, but it hurt too much. Being in love with him rendered her defenceless. She hated that her voice was so trembling and weak when she answered.

"I thought you enjoyed it too? I never meant to be so demanding."

"Perhaps you never meant to, but you are! And I don't enjoy it. I need space or I will suffocate", he said gruffly and abruptly got to his feet to pace the room, running his fingers through his hair in affect.

"I make you feel…?" she was lost for words

"I need my life back as it was. I want things to return to normal. I don't want to come home to a house where a stranger is a permanent house guest. I want to be able to see whomever I want whenever I want, without you in tow, and bring people here without you barging in."

"It was you who said we ought to get to know each other better..."

She fought to keep her voice steady.

"Well, I have changed my mind."

She wished she had no idea where this sudden outburst came from, but it was easy to guess. Mrs. Campion. He had reacquainted himself with his old flame last night, one which probably never had burned out. She was widowed now, but he was regrettably stuck in a sham marriage. It had been tolerable before, now it was not.

"If that is how you feel, what do you want me to do? We are married, we cannot change that even if we want to. Believe me, I never wanted this either."

For a brief moment, their eyes locked and there was so much raw emotion in his. He seemed truly desperate to be rid of her. He looked away again.

"I have a solution, so we will not disturb each other anymore."

She would not disturb him anymore. He had already ceased disturbing her, she thought sadly.

"What do you propose?"

She was afraid to ask.

"You are a country girl who enjoys living in the countryside, much more than living in London I suspect. I told you I own a country estate. I think you should go there."

She stared at him in shock.

"You are sending me away?"
"Trust me, it is for the best."

He sounded strangely choked.

"But why?"

"I think you will be happier in the country, there will be lots of things you can engage yourself in, like you are used to. You may even be able to assist my foreman like you assisted your father if you wish to. I will definitely be happier here with you gone."

If his previous words had hurt her, it was nothing compared to this. There was a cool finality to his voice, and she knew his mind was already made up. She was an obstacle which had to be removed, he did not care what her sentiments were. He had never made her feel like a possession before, but now he did.

She took a deep breath, fisted her hands, pressing the nails into her palms to keep herself together.

"You said once you had not paid the brothel owners for me to be yours, you had only bought me my freedom, but now you won't let me take part in deciding my own future?"

"I am allowing you to be free Charlotte, free to do what you want, just not in this house."

Frustration was evident in his voice.

"And if I don't want to go?"

"It doesn't matter. You are just being obstinate. In time you will understand and agree that the decision I have made is for the best."

She doubted it.

"Can I not go home to Willingden instead?"

The thought of going somewhere new where she knew no one was terrifying.

"No, that would make people gossip. It is not that uncommon that husbands and wives live apart…"

So that husbands can have mistresses, she thought bitterly.

"…but it is not acceptable for a married woman to return to her parents. You will still stay in my household, just not with me."

"But…"

"Enough! End of discussion!" His voice nearly broke with upset emotions.

They stared each other out. He with brow frowned furiously for being questioned and she trying to hold back the tears that pricked behind her eyelids. She had been willing to give herself to him last night, longed to be his wife for real. She had thought that perhaps it was what he wanted too and been willing to put herself out there to find out. How mistaken she had been.

Perhaps this was for the best. It would be unbearable to live under the same roof as him under the current circumstances.

"When do I leave?"

His tense shoulders dropped when he realised she would accept his command without further objections.

"I think it is for the better if you leave already tomorrow, so start packing immediately."

She was not sure how she managed to stand up and walk when she felt like her entire body was shaking almost feverishly, but she had to get away from him before she started crying and forced herself to move.

"Charlotte", he called for her just as she reached the door and she turned around, hoping he would say he regretted it all.

"Bring all your things, don't leave anything behind."

"You don't intend for me to ever come back, do you?"

His eyes were completely devoid of emotion before he turned his back to her.

"No."

Then she spun around and ran upstairs.

Behind closed doors she let her tears flow freely, breaking inside. How foolish of her to fall in love with a man who from the first moment had told her he did not want her, who had told her he did not want a wife because someone had broken his heart once. He was willing to help her, that was all. Now when his long-lost love had reappeared, the situation was changed, and he wanted her out of the way.

With sight still blurred by tears she eventually started packing. He had said not to leave anything behind, so she carefully folded all the beautiful gowns and other garments he had gifted her. The memory of the happy day when they had picked them out together made tears well up in her eyes with renewed intensity. She did not care about the dresses, she wanted to be with him. More than anything she wanted him to tell her to stay here with him. She wanted the ring on her finger to mean something.

She had not married Sidney Parker out of love, but she loved him now even if he did not deserve it.

A/N: Do not hate me for writing such a sad chapter. Considering the current state of the world something fluffy and romantic would have been nice, but I cannot deviate from the plot as I have it outlined in my head and skip ahead. All I can do is promise you that there is a happy ever after down the line. There always is in my stories.

Someone commented Sidney is taking a victim role, but in my mind it is all about fear and care for Charlotte. He does not want to push himself on her, does not want her to feel she is obliged to give him something out of gratitude. He only wants her if she loves him and he is sadly convinced she does not.

Take care, stay safe and do not lose hope.