Chapter 12: Discussing Lady Cossington

He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, enjoying the warmth of her tender hand to his face. "I do not. If I did, I wouldn't be marrying her, would I?"

"Do not think me a fool or one oblivious to how you address her with such distance. You did not treat your mistresses with as much distance as you treat her." Charles almost scoffed. What did she know about his past mistresses? She touched his shoulder. "You do not hate her nor do you share affection with her." She stated.

He didn't reply. It was known to all that his relationship with Lady Cossington was simply for power and to honour his Father's wish, to do his Father's bidding. For the sake of dignity and his Father's honour, he had remained engaged to her for four years.

Four years! Charles thought. It had been long enough. He had postponed it enough in the hopes that he would finally get a reason, whatever it may be, to not live by the wish of his father. Or maybe deep down, he hoped that the Cossingtons would ask that the engagement be let down.

When he opened his eyes, he caught the gentle look on his mother's face. She stretched and her stroking fingers ran behind his ear. Softly, she said. "If you would rather not have her, end the alliance. I will stand with you no matter the decision you make. Why carry on?"

He pressed her palm to his face. Somehow, she made him feel like a child. Whispering, he said. "Father wished it so."

Her hand left his face. "Oh good gracious!" She threw her hands in the air. "Why would you care? Your Father always thought he knew what was right for everyone."

"He was the man you loved." Charles became a man of authority and power again. He walked away and entered the green salon.

She entered shortly. "True. But he was too pigheaded for anyone's good. His word was law." She sat down as he did. "No one else had a right to counter. This is why I am telling you to oppose his words now if it makes you unhappy." She leaned in and patted his hand. "I am your Mother, I will stand by you, whatever the decision you make." Then she smiled.

What could he say? That he wanted no relations with marriage? That he wished his Father could have been a better man? That he hated the alliance with Cossington? How could he say he wanted no relations with marriage because of the marriage of his parents? "Are you not friends with Lady Cossington already? What will you do if I choose to take another to wife? Will you cease being friends with her?"

She smiled. "If she so wishes, yes. No one is more important to me than my son and nothing else matters save his happiness."

He shook his head. "I shall carry on with Lady Cossington. Affection does not matter to me." The disappointment on her face was evident. "We shall both stand at the altar before Christmas."

"If you are happy, I am too." His Mother rose to her feet and he followed suit. "I must leave now. Lady Dashwood has invited me to tea time." She sounded excited. He nodded. "Walk with me." He held out his arm to her, walking slowly beside her all the way to the front door. The silence was comforting and perfect. "I heard about Black, I am sorry."

He shook his head. "She has had her run. And my days with her were good." He looked down at her. "I should thank you for that."

She laughed heartily. "You are such a charmer. It was my pleasure." She lovingly hugged his arm she held. "I remember when you first got her, how foolish your thinking was. Sleeping in her stall to keep her warm only to get sick yourself."

Charles' lips twitched in remembrance. He had worried about keeping his young horse warm and alive and abandoned his own health. Thank goodness for his mother who noticed his absence in time. She found and nursed him all night long. "She deserved the best."

"Yes, she did." As they stood by the main entrance, his Mother patted his hand and smiled at him. "Whatever be your final decision Charles, be happy. That is all I ask."

"I will."

After he waved her off, Charles's thoughts returned again to the subject of his marriage to Lady Cossington as he stood by the door. He held no grievances against her, save for the fact that his Father pioneered the alliance. She was the perfect wife anyone could ask for and if her education, her grace and her manner of speech was anything to go by, she would make a fine Duchess. But he knew that the delay in the nuptials had no relations with her but with him. He had not had a conversation with her after the contracts were signed by both parties and he wished not to. How his marriage would survive on the current conditions puzzled him. Still, he planned to make it happen.

Perhaps he should meet with her. Someday.

He walked back to the green salon, deciding to lay all worries to rest, awaiting the arrival of Lady Beth

* * *

As he sat in the salon awaiting her, Charles's thoughts again visited his dead horse. Black had been a gift from his Mother when he turned fifteen and ultimately mastered the art of swordsmanship; his Father finally awarded him a nod of acknowledgement.

She was a beautiful, black mare that had adored him as much as his Mother did, for a little over twelve years. Sadly, she had been injured on one of their many outings and couldn't overcome it. He would miss her, that was certain, but he had no time mooning over a horse as though lovelorn. Alexander would never let him hear the last of it.

He was eager for her arrival. Lady Bethany Fitzgerald she had introduced, a kindred spirit who wasn't as keen towards the motions and thoughts of the gentry. He hoped to establish a sort of friendship with the Irish gentlewoman whose words entertained him as much as she did. Maybe Albert was right, maybe he sought to make her a sort of entertainment but not in the manner that was expected of him. She would entertain him with her words and he would entertain her with his.

A knock. She was finally here. Thomas entered, followed by a maid bearing a tray. He frowned. "You were told to bring her in immediately, were you not?"

The butler bowed as did the maid. "This is a note from the Castle, Your Grace." He took the note off the tray and walked over, bringing the letter opener along. "A messenger rode in earlier." After giving the letter, he bowed and left, the maid upon his heel.

Charles's eyebrow twitched as he examined the letter. Using the letter opener, he freed the message from the King.

Carlisle,

I am calling a council meeting. Make your presence at the Castle in the next three days.

King Alexander.

By the way, I tend to forget faces easily. I have most definitely forgotten Brand's.

His lips twitched, responding to the King's sarcastic warning. Later, he would send back a reply. He pondered what the meeting could be about. The last council meeting had dealt on the attacks on ships and their sailors by pirates and it had been handled accordingly. Charles hoped it wasn't the topic of discussion again.

The wait was becoming too much for him to bear. Did she refuse his invitation? His coach had been sent on his order, why wasn't she at his home yet. He thought of his cunning to address the letter to her Aunt. She would not be pleased.

He paced around the room, stared out the window and almost asked Thomas to go fetch her himself. Barely restraining his will, he thought of smoking a cigarette but soon cast the very thought aside. A stroke short of frustration, he returned to his seat.

After a few minutes, another knock. This time, he knew she had arrived. Adjusting himself, he ordered. "Enter." And they did. Thomas, on the lead, the maid with the tray, and finally, Lady Beth.

His breath caught and he was enveloped in her mesmerizing beauty.

She indeed was beautiful.

"Your Grace." He heard an echo. "Your Grace, Lady Beth Fitzgerald." Thomas announced.

Coming back to the room, Charles cleared his throat. "Yes, thank you Thomas." The butler bowed. "Have the table set."

"Yes, Your Grace." They left the room, leaving a fidgeting lady in his presence. He cleared his throat again. "Please, do come in." She stepped further in and stopped. His eyebrow rose. "Sit, if you may. The maids are in the process of preparing the breakfast table."

She bowed and sat away from him, he noticed. He sat too. Her eyes settled on everything in the room, except him. She clasped her hands in a tight hold and her cheeks were somewhat flushed, all coming together to make her red hair even brighter. He quickly realized how fiery her red hair was. He never knew she was a redhead. "You are beautiful." He blurted out and gained her attention.

Her roaming eyes finally settled on him. She managed a nervous smile. "Thank you. That is very nice of you to say."

He looked her straight in the eyes, knowing he had meant it. "I never said it out of the need to be nice. You are beautiful."

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