To Warm A Wintered Heart (Regency Romance) Read online

  “There you are,” Mrs. Rosebury said. “Did you happen to see Mr. Worthington on your way down?”

  Charlotte hesitated. “I am afraid not,” she said, her cheeks turning red.

  She moved to stand away from the group as the others continued their conversation, and Julia joined her in an instant.

  “What is wrong, Charlotte?” she asked in a whisper.

  Charlotte smoothed her skirts before whispering to her sister, “I have just discovered for myself that the amiable Mr. Worthington is nothing more than a pompous, presumptuous…”

  Her words trailed off in a sigh, and Julia’s eyes widened.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, leaning in closer.

  “Apparently,” Charlotte continued, eying Mrs. Worthington to ensure their conversation would remain unheard, “Mr. Worthington believes he was invited to Brightwood because our family and his mother wished for us to marry.”

  Julia frowned. “However did he come to such a conclusion?”

  “He accused me of using my kindness as a way to trick him into matrimony!”

  “I cannot believe he would say such a thing,” Julia said, her mouth hanging open. “You should tell Mama.”

  “Oh, no,” Charlotte said, quickly shaking her head. “I could not. I would not wish for Mrs. Worthington to hear. And besides, I was not so very kind to Mr. Worthington in return. Mama would not have approved of my words.”

  “What did you say in response?”

  Charlotte glanced once more to the others. “I as good as told him I would never even consider associating with a man as arrogant as he.”

  “Well, if you ask me, the man deserves it,” Julia said before frowning. “Oh, what a waste of such attractive features.”

  Charlotte smiled, despite herself. “Indeed,” she said before sighing and burying her face in her hands. “Oh, to think he imagined my kindness suggested a desire for marriage. It is utterly humiliating.”

  “Ah, there you are.”

  Charlotte’s hands dropped from her face when she heard Mrs. Worthington’s words, and she looked to the door to see Gabriel entering the room.

  “You must forgive my late arrival,” Gabriel said to his mother. “I was…misdirected on my way here.”

  His icy blue glare rested upon Charlotte, and after he made no move to speak further of their confrontation, relief filled her, for she knew he would not cause Mrs. Worthington to leave Brightwood early. She smiled innocently in his direction until he looked away with a clenched jaw and clear irritation in his eyes.

  As the party moved to the dining room, Gabriel attempted to avert his gaze from Charlotte, reminding himself not to notice her smooth hair pulled back and embellished with a blue ribbon nor the dimples in her cheeks as she smiled at her sister.

  However, the strength of his resolve came into question when he sat next to her at the dining table, their fingers slightly touching as they reached for the same dish on more than one occasion until Gabriel simply decided to begin eating what little food he already had on his plate, as he had found it difficult to ignore the sensation in his fingertips whenever they touched.

  His hopes of being distracted by conversation were soon diminished, as well, for it was made quickly known that Charlotte Rosebury’s conversation was sought after by all those around the table.

  “Your mother and father told me you spent the season in Bath, Miss Rosebury,” Gabriel heard his mother say next. “I do hope you enjoyed your time while there.”

  “Oh, Bath was wonderful,” Charlotte replied, and he fought the urge to look at the smile he heard in her voice.

  Does she ever stop smiling? he thought bitterly, ignoring the image of a scathing Charlotte standing before him not half an hour before.

  “And have you been to Bath before, Mrs. Worthington?” she asked.

  “My husband and I used to enjoy traveling there quite often. Though, I have not been, as of late.”

  Gabriel glanced up to see a sad smile on his mother’s face, and when Charlotte spoke next, her softened tone caused him to turn his head and watch her for himself.

  “I only met with your husband once, Mrs. Worthington,” she began, “but he left quite an impression on my young mind. You see, the night I met him, my sister and I were standing in the far corner of the room overlooked by most guests. However, Mr. Worthington approached us with a smile before reaching down and offering us both a small sweet. I will always remember his generosity and kindness. His actions spoke greatly of his fine character.”

  Gabriel glanced away, pushing aside the sudden emotion he felt as he recalled the supply of sweets his father had always carried.

  “What a lovely memory,” Mrs. Worthington said, smiling. “How very kind of you to share it.”

  Gabriel’s heart seemed to plummet to the floor as the word echoed throughout his mind, and only then did he realize his mistake.

  Kind, he thought, Miss Rosebury was being kind.

  He thought back to the sincere shock upon Charlotte’s face as he had made his earlier accusations, and his disgust with himself rose.

  If her kindness had been an act to deceive me, he thought, should she not have ended the charade already?

  “You seem very deep in thought this evening, Gabriel,” Mrs. Worthington said, and he looked up with a guilt-plagued heart. “Will you tell us of what you are thinking?”

  “I was simply enjoying the delicious food,” he lied.

  “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Worthington agreed. “It is exceptional.”

  Gabriel speared a boiled potato before eating it, but the warm, moist vegetable seemed to dry in his mouth the longer he chewed.

  Even if Miss Rosebury was not being deceitful, he thought, attempting to assuage his guilt, being forthright was honorable, for now she will not be under any illusions concerning my lack of intention to marry.

  However, as dinner progressed, his regret increased, for with each kind gesture Charlotte made, whether it was complimenting her parents, thanking the servants, or involving her younger sister in the conversation, she remained happy.

  Her dimpled smile brought joy to all apart from Gabriel, and for reasons he did not know, he wished to beg her pardon.

  “Do you enjoy hunting, Mr. Worthington?” Mr. Rosebury asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Gabriel replied, setting his knife and fork down, for his appetite had vanished long ago.

  “Then you are welcome to join me shooting tomorrow.”

  “I should like to very much,” Gabriel replied with a nod of his head. “Thank you.”

  “You prefer shooting pheasants, do you not, Father?” Charlotte said before glancing to Mrs. Worthington. “They are a much easier target for him, you see.”

  Laughter sounded around the table.

  “Though, I only tease, of course,” Charlotte continued, Gabriel glancing sidelong to see her staring affectionately at her father. “Papa is one of the best shooters in the county. I am certain the younger gentlemen are quite envious of his talent.”

  “Do you hear that, son?” Mrs. Worthington asked with a smile.

  “Indeed, and I am certain I shall be envious, as well,” Gabriel said, noting Charlotte did not spare a glance in his direction.

  You have caused her great offense, he thought bitterly. Why would she acknowledge your presence?

  When the meal finally came to an end, Mr. Rosebury spoke with the butler at the far end of the table, and Mrs. Rosebury began to lead the women from the room. However, as Charlotte moved to leave the table, an odd desperation gripped Gabriel’s heart, a desperation to show the woman his regret, and without thinking further, he reached forth his hand and grasped Charlotte’s wrist to stay her.

  “Miss Rosebury,” he began before feeling a tingling sensation in his fingers, and he released her at once.

  “Yes, Mr. Worthington?” Charlotte questioned with a puckered brow.

  “I…” he began, trailing off.

  “Yes?”

  “You…Your grandmothe
r was right,” he said hesitantly.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Your grandmother, she was right,” he repeated. “Pork does warm one’s stomach on a cold day.”

  Charlotte’s silence unnerved Gabriel as she looked up at him in confusion.

  “And I…”

  “Charlotte,” Mrs. Rosebury called from outside of the room before he could finish, “are you coming?”

  “I shall be right there, Mother,” Charlotte responded.

  She gave Gabriel another odd look before she curtsied and scurried away, and Gabriel watched her until she disappeared around the corner, leaving him even more embarrassed and guilt-ridden than before.

  Chapter Three

  Nearly a week had passed since the Worthingtons had arrived at Brightwood, and still, any form of a relationship between Charlotte and Gabriel remained nonexistent. Charlotte had not forgotten the words he had spoken to her, and though she had found ignoring his presence easy enough, the same could not be said of her thoughts.

  One morning, after a restless night filled with dreams of blue eyes and a fierce scowl, Charlotte made her way to Brightwood’s small library, hoping a bit of reading might distract her from thinking further on the gentleman, but when she entered the room to see Gabriel himself seated in a chair and reading a novel of his own, her heart leapt in her chest.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed in surprise, “I thought you had again gone shooting with my father.”

  Gabriel stood from his seat as he looked down at the book in his hands. “Miss Rosebury,” he said in his deep voice, “I desired a different activity to occupy my time this morning. It would appear we have thought alike.”

  “Yes, well,” Charlotte said with hardened eyes and a raised chin, “I did not mean to interrupt your solitude. I will leave you be.”

  “This is your home,” Gabriel replied before she could turn away. “You do not have to leave unless you wish to.”

  “Oh,” she responded, surprised with his indifference. “Well, I would not wish to disturb you.”

  “You will not disturb me.”

  “Very well,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “I shall only be a moment.”

  She made her way to the opposite side of the room where books filled the large shelves lining the walls, and she scanned the various titles before settling upon a collection of poetry.

  Rather than giving in to her urge to look at Gabriel, whom she had heard taking his seat behind her, Charlotte thumbed through the pages before a movement out of the window caught her eye.

  Moving closer, she smiled to see Julia walking through the gardens alone, and without another thought, she tapped upon the glass and pulled a face at her sister with raised brows, flared nostrils, and bared teeth, until Julia looked up.

  Charlotte smiled to see Julia’s shoulders shaking with laughter, and she could not help but laugh herself before she remembered all too late, she was not alone in the room.

  She glanced at Gabriel, and her embarrassment flared when she saw his eyes dart away from her, for she knew then he must have seen the hideous expression she had made to her sister.

  What matters if he saw? she asked herself. His opinion should mean nothing to me.

  Charlotte returned her gaze to Julia, motioning furtively she was not alone in the room.

  “Mr. Worthington?” she read from Julia’s lips.

  Charlotte nodded, nearly laughing yet again when Julia gagged theatrically. Charlotte then held up her forefinger for Julia to remain where she stood, and only then did she step away from the window to move quickly across the room.

  However, after seeing Gabriel stand for her as she made to leave the library, she paused, looking back at him.

  “Thank you, Mr. Worthington,” she said, meeting his gaze, “for allowing me to interrupt your time alone.”

  He made no move to respond, but Charlotte remained where she stood, staring into his eyes until his gaze faltered and he spoke.

  “You need not thank me,” he mumbled.

  “Very well,” she responded. “Do excuse me, Mr. Worthington.”

  And she turned on her heel and left the room, heading in the direction of her sister and some much-needed fresh air.

  Gabriel returned to his chair, flipping through the pages of his book as he tried to recall what he had been reading before Charlotte had entered the room.

  After another moment, however, he dropped the book onto the nearby table, his eyes drifting to the window where Charlotte had stood making faces, and he could not help but wonder with whom she had been communicating.

  He made his way to the window, peering out of the glass before seeing Charlotte appear below, linking arms with her sister and moving across the estate’s green grass. He could not help but notice Charlotte’s feminine form, her dress swinging back and forth with each step she took, the ringlets in her hair fluttering from a soft breeze, and he shook his head with a sigh.

  “I should have gone shooting this morning,” he muttered aloud, and he watched Charlotte until she and her sister finally disappeared from his sight.

  ***

  “Gabriel, are you to join us?” Mrs. Worthington said the next morning as the man walked into the parlor, joining the women already gathered.

  Charlotte glanced up from her stitching for only a moment to see Gabriel’s eyes upon her, and she ignored the fluttering in her heart before looking away once more.

  “The rain was relentless,” he eventually answered, looking to his mother, “so Mr. Rosebury and I decided to forgo riding today.”

  “Oh, I am afraid my husband has never been one to enjoy the rain,” Mrs. Rosebury said. “Well, you are most welcome to sit with us. Is he not, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte smiled, though her eyes remained averted. “Of course, Mother,” she said, “it is always nice to have a large party present.”

  Mrs. Rosebury motioned to an empty seat next to Charlotte. “Do be seated, Mr. Worthington.”

  Charlotte felt Gabriel’s hesitance before he muttered an excuse about wanting to stretch his legs, and soon she heard him move to the parlor window.

  The next half an hour nearly proved Charlotte’s undoing, as Gabriel refused to be engaged in conversation, despite the attempts from his mother and Mrs. Rosebury.

  Instead, Charlotte saw him staring out at the pouring rain as she wondered why the damp weather was so captivating, and she forced herself to remain seated when all she wished to do was release her frustration by poking him with her threaded needle.

  However, relief soon came in the form of callers, Mrs. Seabrook and her two daughters, Maud and Moriah.

  The women entered the room after the footman’s announcement of their arrival, and following introductions, all were seated and their conversation began.

  “And where is your home, Mrs. Worthington?” Mrs. Seabrook asked as her and her daughters’ eyes constantly glanced to Gabriel, whose gaze was still fixed out of the window.

  “Our home, Greyston Hall, is in Loxley, Yorkshire,” replied Mrs. Worthington, “about a two-hour ride from York.”

  “I see,” Mrs. Seabrook said with another glance to Gabriel. “And your son, he is master of the estate in Yorkshire?”

  “He is,” Mrs. Worthington responded.

  “Yorkshire, such a beautiful county,” Maud, the eldest Seabrook daughter, said, batting her lashes at Gabriel.

  “Indeed, very beautiful,” Moriah, her younger sister by merely a year, agreed, their voices as identical as their faces.

  Charlotte’s initial reaction was to frown at the attention the sisters paid Gabriel, however, she soon smiled at the thought of him being taken with one of the girls so Charlotte might forever be rid of his company.

  “Do you miss your home, Mr. Worthington?” Moriah asked.

  “Oh, he must,” Maud added. “Is that not so, Mr. Worthington?”

  Charlotte glanced sidelong at Gabriel in time to see him merely nod in response, and her brow furrowed, though she felt a small degr
ee of satisfaction at not having been the only female treated coldly by the gentleman.

  “I am so glad you have come calling,” she said, smiling at the girls. “Julia will be most displeased to have missed you though. She walked in the rain earlier, so Mother has forced her to remain in bed.”

  “Oh, dear,” Maud said with a sympathetic smile, “I am certain she will not be happy being confined to her room all day.”

  “No, indeed,” Charlotte said.

  Their conversation paused when the parlor door swung open, Mr. Rosebury entering with a smile as he exchanged pleasantries with those in the room before turning to Gabriel.

  “Mr. Worthington,” he said, “the rain has lessened somewhat, so I thought I might go riding. You would be welcome to join me, as I see you are most outnumbered here.”

  Charlotte had never seen the gentleman move so quickly, Gabriel at Mr. Rosebury’s side within moments, pausing only to glance in her direction. Her eyes, however, focused elsewhere until the gentlemen took their leave and disappeared out of the door.

  “Mr. Rosebury seems in high spirits,” Mrs. Seabrook said.

  “Indeed,” Mrs. Rosebury agreed. “I am certain it is due to having another gentleman with whom to spend his leisurely time.”

  Before Charlotte could add to the conversation, Maud stood, followed closely by Moriah.

  “Miss Rosebury,” Maud said, the sisters approaching her with sly glances over their shoulders, “you are looking quite flushed. Do walk with us for a moment.”

  “Very well,” Charlotte said.

  Before the three of them reached the far side of the room, Charlotte, having an inkling as to why the girls wished to separate her from the others, began a conversation of her own, hoping to sway their attention elsewhere.

  “How are your plans for the ball?” Charlotte asked. “I have told Mama we must offer our help, for we are more than willing to help you—”

  “Miss Rosebury,” Moriah whispered, interrupting her with another look over her shoulder, “I do not mean to be rude, but we must speak with you.”

  “Yes, we must,” her sister agreed, both of them cornering Charlotte with serious expressions.