"It is because I think so much of warm and sensitive hearts, that I would spare them from being wounded." Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist

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Chapter Two

Charlotte sat in the drawing room at Ascot surrounded by a thousand different fabric swatches that, to her, were all white.

But according to Giselle Mornington they each had a different name. Giselle was a very fabulous woman, always draped in the finest fabrics and jewels. Her auburn hair was curly and pulled back into a fancy knot on the back of her head, with a flower garland surrounding it. The same flowers decorated her deep purple gown that emphasised her hourglass figure perfectly. Her honey-coloured eyes were very unique, and often fired with excitement when she was talking about gowns. "Now, I think this will look simply gorgeous on you," she said, holding up a sample of white fabric. "Ivory silk, isn't it just lovely?"

So it was ivory silk. Giselle held the material up to her face and sighed happily. "You've been blessed with such a lovely complexion, darling."

"Thank you," Charlotte replied half-heartedly. She'd never really been involved with the design of her gowns beforehand, to this extent. She'd often selected material based on colour and then picked a design out of a book and she was finished with it. She sighed and rose from the settee to stretch her legs. "Giselle, I've had enough for today," she informed her. "Really, you should choose everything. You know much more about this than I do." And she cared much more about it than Charlotte did.

She didn't think planning a wedding should be so tiresome. Her brother, Emmett, and his wife, Bess, had married almost instantly. Of course the circumstances were not the best, but a wedding still had been thrown together rather quickly. Herwedding, however, was taking an absolute age to plan.

And it was all Bess' fault.

For a woman who didn't care to do anything but braid her hair, she certainly insisted on planning every detail of Charlotte's wedding.

She and Eric had become engaged two months ago and the only thing that had been agreed on was the identity of the groom.

"Don't you want to design your own wedding gown?" Giselle asked, sounding quite surprised. "Bess assured me that you would want to be involved with every detail."

Of course she had. "I truly don't," she murmured. "I trust your taste." She wanted it over and done with. She wanted to be married and taken to live far away from Derbyshire. She didn't understand why she and Eric couldn't go into the village and be married by the vicar that afternoon! "Excuse me, would you?"

She felt guilty for being short with her future mother-in-law, but she wasn't in the mood to talk fashion. Charlotte exited the room and followed the voices of her family until she found them in the dining room enjoying luncheon.

Emmett sat at the head of the table playing with a grape between his fingers. Their mother, Marie, sat to his side and her younger sister, Rose, sat beside her. Bess was beside Emmett, lounging in her chair with their now seventeen-month-old son, David, sitting on her lap. Charlotte couldn't help but smile whenever she saw David. He was incredibly adorable with a cheeky smile and bright blue eyes.

But her happiness stopped there. "This is a nightmare!" she exclaimed, taking her seat beside Bess and helping herself to a generous glass of wine. Eric was so lucky to be called away on business.

She'd been so happy to make a friend like Eric. He was a kind gentleman who'd awkwardly asked her to dance during her first ball in London. They'd gotten to know each other as friends and a mutual admiration had developed. Once her season was over, he'd travelled to Derbyshire so that they could continue getting to know each other, eventually turning it into a courtship.

She loved Eric ... in a way. Just like he loved her, in a way. They respected each other and were very fond of one another. It wasn't a terribly passionate romance but whose was? She could recall how much Emmett and Bess detested each other at first. She and Eric liked each other; that could only grow, couldn't it?

Charlotte had only felt passionately about one person in her life, but she'd let go of her delusions of Nate returning a long time ago. He might've even married an American woman by now, she wasn't to know. Whenever a letter of his arrived, she'd stopped asking to hear what he was doing. In the beginning she'd felt abandoned, and the tone of his letters showed that he wasn't thinking about her and he was having a fantastic time. But she was older and wiser now. She knew not to give her heart away so easily.

Besides, Bess had been right. As each day went by, it hurt less and less. Now Nathaniel Swift was just a memory.

"What is?" Marie asked as she too poured herself a glass.

Charlotte took a long drink of her wine and felt it ever so slightly calm her down. "Weddings. I don't see why we can't just go to the church!" she protested.

"Because you'll always look back on your wedding with fondness and you'll regret it if you are just married on a Tuesday afternoon in a dress you've worn ten times before," Bess replied, bouncing David on her lap. He was loving the attention.

"Doyou look back on your wedding day with fondness?" Charlotte quipped. Emmett snorted as he tried to control his laugh. Bess shot him a dirty look.

"Anyway," Bess continued. "I really think that the wedding should be moved to next January as the lakes will be frozen and there will be ample ice to carve sculptures. I was thinking a majestic swan ... or perhaps an angel?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the next strange idea that Bess had. Last week she'd suggested that they find actual swans to walk down the aisle before her.

David climbed off his mother's lap and onto Charlotte's. She smiled at her young nephew and proceeded to cuddle him. "Your Mama is insane!" she cooed, not letting on to David that she was irritated. "Honestly, at this stage I just want to cancel the whole extravaganza. None of you are listening to what I want." Her nephew was no longer a light, little baby. Soon enough he'd be running about like a mad child. Right now he was still waddling ... and catchable.

"Well, if that's what you want to do, then who are we to stand in your way?" Bess shrugged and sat back in her chair.

Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows at Bess' sudden acceptance of something that she wanted. Before she could confront her about it, Rose interjected.

"Charlotte, don't think like that. You can make the decisions from now on," she promised.

"Within reason," Marie added. "A Tuesday afternoon wedding is out of the question."

Charlotte nodded in agreement. "I'm going to go and write Eric. I want to know when he'll be back." She rose from the chair and gave David back to Bess, kissing him on top of his blond head.

She walked out of the dining room and made her way quickly past the drawing room. She saw Giselle still heavily invested in her material samples as she layered and experimented. Once in the foyer she sat down on the bottom step and laid her head in her hands.

It was all too much. The minute Eric returned, she and him were getting into a carriage and travelling to Gretna Green, no matter what her family thought. Tuesday afternoon be damned. She wanted to be married and away from Derbyshire no matter what.

At that moment, three knocks sounded from the front door opposite the grand staircase. She looked up and craned her neck to see if there were any servants around to answer the door, but she was alone. She rose from the bottom stair and crossed the marble foyer to the front door. Turning the large handle, she pulled open the heavy door.

It was as if she'd forgotten how to breathe. She could feel all the blood draining from her face and she could have sworn her heart stopped beating. Perhaps it did as the next thing she saw was the ceiling.

***

"Daddy, is she dead?" said a child with a strange accent.

Charlotte's eyes fluttered open and it took a moment for her vision to focus. She was still lying on the ground but her head was being cradled by large hands.

"Maggie, I need you to go down that hallway there and open every door until you find a man with dark hair. His name is Emmett. I need you to bring him to me."

That voice. How many times had she dreamed of that voice? And he was here. With her. He'd come back.

"Charlotte, can you hear me?" he asked, caressing the side of her face softly. His face appeared in her line of sight and she nearly fainted once again. How was it that he could grow more and more handsome as he got older?

His piercing green eyes bore into hers as he checked her over. His skin was a little darker than she remembered, suggesting an extended period of time spent in the sun. His hard jaw was covered in a light layer of blond facial hair and his familiar curls were longer and hanging down from his face as he looked over her.

Charlotte couldn't speak. She couldn't find words. All she could do was nod. He helped her sit up. About that time, she heard a commotion coming from the direction of the dining room.

"You sure do have a big house, Mister," the girl with the strange accent remarked as they made their way towards them. "It's bigger than my Daddy's house and I thought his house was huge!"

"I don't understand, who are you, child?" Charlotte heard Emmett ask the girl.

"Margaret Anne Wheeler Swift, but you can call me 'Maggie,'" she said proudly.

"Swift?" Emmett asked, just as soon as Charlotte thought the same thing. Nate had not been away for that long. The child was definitely older than two. Was she a love child? Had he travelled to America before?

She heard the sound of their shoes connecting with the marble in the foyer so they must have seen her.

"Charlotte!" Bess exclaimed.

Bess quickly rushed to her side, not at all alarmed to see that Nate had finally come home. Charlotte found it as peculiar as the rest of her behaviour. The other members of her family, however, were all frozen, staring at Nate in complete and utter shock.

"She fainted," Nate said quietly. "I caught her head before it hit the ground."

"I'm fine," Charlotte mumbled. She placed both her hands on the ground and tried to stand up in a rather unladylike fashion. Nate was quick to aid her and he effortlessly lifted her to her feet.

The girl, who'd introduced herself as 'Maggie,' bounced happily to Nate's side and he put a hand on the small of her back. She was quite a beautiful girl. She seemed to have a big personality for someone so little. She would stand out in England, as her skin had a lovely, deep olive tone. Her brown hair was straight and hung down her back and her big, pale green eyes were very unusual, yet they added to her gorgeous face. She wore a plain, grey dress and an unbuttoned woollen coat.

"It's been a long time, Swift," Emmett remarked, deciding to join the party at the front door. He didn't sound angry at all. He sounded cheeky, quite like how he and Nate behaved when they were teenagers.

Nate grinned at his best friend, flashing the dimples that had once made Charlotte want to fall at his feet. She felt embarrassed when she realised that she had already fallen at his feet. "You didn't miss me, did you, Wilde?"

Emmett chuckled and extended his arms out to Nate, who reciprocated the motion. They hugged tightly and slapped each other's backs, as only men seemed to do. When they separated, Emmett looked down at Maggie, who waited behind them. "You have a child?"

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," Nate replied, amused. "But yes." He nodded, holding out his hand so that Maggie would come forward. "Maggie ... these people are my family ... your family too. Maggie and I found each other in North Carolina."

"My Momma caught the ditheria," Maggie said sadly and clung to Nate's side.

"Diphtheria," Nate corrected. "Her mother asked me to look after her and so I have. We're a team now, aren't we?" he asked, looking down at Maggie.

Charlotte could tell that Nate loved the girl that he called his daughter. She had to admit, fatherhood did suit him well.

"Where's my godson?" he asked, searching for David. He spied the curious toddler in Marie's arms and grinned. "Does it bother you that he looks like me?" he teased Emmett.

David's blond curls were very similar to Nate's, though his eyes were none other than Emmett's.

"Hush, you," Bess instructed comically as Emmett smacked Nate around the back of the head.

"Hey!" Maggie exclaimed angrily. "No hitting my Daddy!'

That made Charlotte smile. Maggie had a lot of nerve. Perhaps it was an American thing.

Emmett winked at her and invited Marie to bring David over to them. Rose followed, still looking a little starstruck. Clearly she had not expected their guest either.

"How are you, Bessie?" Nate asked, turning to Bess and inviting her in for a hug.

She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "Good," she replied. "You need a shave," she said next, gesturing to the hair on his chin.

Nate ran his hands over his jaw. "I know." He nodded. "First on my list of things to do, I promise." Nate smiled widely as Marie handed David over to him. David was reluctant to leave his grandmother's arms but he allowed Nate to hold him. "You're looking lovely as ever, Marie," he complimented.

Marie arched one of her perfect, dark brows. "Mm," was all she said.

Marie wasn't one of Nate's greatest fans. Charlotte believed it to be because of how upset Charlotte had been after his abrupt departure.

"You're looking beautiful too, Rosie," Nate added, winking at Rose. His comment had made her sister blush. "Both you girls have grown up so much. I can hardly believe my eyes."

Charlotte's mind immediately travelled back to the night that he had called her a 'child.' Their age difference was the reason that Nate had given up pursuing her. That and Emmett's pigheadedness. Though she'd forgiven her brother, Nate, however? No. Nate could have fought for her. He could have proven to Emmett his worthiness. But he didn't. Instead, he'd boarded the next ship to America without even saying 'goodbye.' He'd most likely worked his way through every American prostitute he could find. She wondered if Maggie's mother was one of the women he'd bedded. The thought made her feel ill.

"Hello, young man," Nate said tenderly as he bounced David ever so slightly in his arms. The motion made David smile. "I'm your Uncle Nate." Charlotte could have sworn she saw tears in his eyes as the blue eyes of his nephew peered up at him. He looked up at Bess and Emmett. "You two have done well," he said sincerely. "Maggie, this is your cousin, Davy." He set David on the ground, but held onto both his hands, so Maggie could meet him.

"How on earth did she get that bloody pet name across the Atlantic?" Emmett exclaimed.

"Bessie was the one writing me the letters." Nate smirked. "He's a handsome little monkey, isn't he?" he remarked.

"I think so," Bess agreed proudly.

Charlotte couldn't take it anymore. It was all too surreal. After such a long absence, she'd come to terms with the fact that she wouldn't be seeing him again. She'd accepted it and she'd moved on. She was planning her wedding! And now Nate had come back home, daughter in tow, and behaved as if no time had passed.

Now she truly knew how he'd felt about her. Obviously she'd been delusional to think that he'd cared for her.

"Excuse me, would you?" Charlotte said icily. "I should help Giselle." Being bored out of her mind was better than feeling all of her emotions at once. She quickly started out of the foyer, moving swiftly past Emmett and Bess, towards the hallway.

"Charlotte," Nate called out, stopping her in her tracks. "I ... I hear congratulations are in order." She couldn't tell from his tone how he felt about that, but he certainly didn't sound sad per se.

She turned and looked over her shoulder. "Thank you. I'm afraid I won't be here to welcome you home. I'm going to London in the morning to see my fiancé." She didn't know if she was trying to punish him or get a reaction. Either way it wasn't fair to Eric to do either. She did have a fiancé, one that cared about her very much, which was more than she could say for the absentee before her.

"You are not!" Emmett exclaimed. "You're not travelling to London without one of us to chaperone. You're too young to be travelling alone, anyhow."

Charlotte clenched her teeth to refrain from screaming childishly. When would she not be considered 'young' by her brother? In twenty years? Thirty? She shot her brother a look that told him she was seriouslydispleased and then disappeared into the hallway to go and find Giselle.