Chapter 9

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The house was surprisingly peaceful, a rare occurrence considering it was usually overrun by a dozen or more children, of varying ages. Then again, Charlotte guessed it was a good thing. Marice looked paler by the hour, and she squirmed often in her sleep. The doctor had said she would develop rashes, and sure enough by the next morning after everyone had left, rashes had popped out all over her skin and tongue. She didn't want to eat anything, only hot broth.

Charlotte had been quick in sending missives to both her brother and to the governesses, instructing them to follow Fabian's instruction, and that she'll remain to monitor Marice until she's better. Fabian would in turn, send picnic baskets for them everyday, along with hot broth that Charlotte would heat up for the sick girl.

Late on the second day of their quarantine, Charlotte was curled up in an armchair she had moved into Marice's room, so she could wipe her down and change the cloth on her head every so often. With a book in hand and wrapped up in the plot, she barely heard the door knocking, until it finally pierced through Marice's consciousness when the girl stirred.

"Whose at the door?" the young brunette weakly murmured, catching Charlotte's attention and curiosity as she headed down. Who could it be? Usually she would find the picnic basket at the door, for no one was supposed to be in near proximity to her. 

Surprise filled her when she saw the flushed and obviously out-of-breathe face of Lionel when she opened the door, making her eyes widen in surprise. His hair looked harried, it's long locks curled around the nape of his neck sticking out in all directions. What was he doing here? Feeling his eyes scan her from top to toe, Charlotte couldn't help but squirm in her slippers by his attention. "What are you doing here, Leo?"

Instead of answer, he gently nudged her so she entered the doorway, closing the door behind him before feeling her skin and her forehead. "Are you alright, Charlie? I heard Fabian tell me you were here and there was a quarantine due to a case of scarlet fever."

Alarm shot through her, for she had momentarily forgot the fact that she was supposed to not have any contact with anyone until Marice had recovered and neither of them were contagious. "You're not supposed to be here Leo! Leave quickly!" Charlotte started, hoping that maybe the short contact they had with each other would not affect Lionel's health. As frustrated as she was with his hot and cold treatment of her, Charlotte would never want to see Lionel ill.

But Leo was not to be deterred. Catching Charlotte's hands as they flailed in her attempt to push Leo out of the door, he held her wrists together, and smiled at her, the kind of smile that he used to give her when they would go on rambles on the Avondale estate in Kensington, part boyish, part tender, and all of which would make Charlotte's heart go aflutter.

"Even if I still had the time to not have to fall under quarantine, Charlie, this should annihilate any chances I would've had."

And with no warning whatsoever, Charlotte's curious query was swallowed when he placed his lips on hers, and basked in the feeling of coming home as he kissed the one lady he would place over any honor he had.

---

Marice had started crying abovestairs when they broke apart, her cheeks flushed and he even more breathless. The sharp cry had been enough to remind Charlotte of where she was, who she was with and what duties she had. With a harried glance at Lionel, she had hurried up the stairs, and proceeded and giving the young girl a bath. But Leo had surprised her by having the dinner hamper all ready when she came down, intending to heat up the food to bring up for the girl.

He had joined her as they had their meal in Marice's room, taking over Charlotte's duties in sponging her as her temperature peaked again, allowing Charlotte to take a prolonged lounge in the chaise she had moved up into the room. For the first time since the quarantine had begun a few days ago, Charlotte realized that she was actually quite worn out from being a sick child's only caretaker.

Night had fallen by the time Marice fell asleep, and Leo gently felt her forehead before murmuring "Her fever's broke, I think. She should be on the mend by tomorrow. The salve is helping with her rashes."

Charlotte made a small noise of agreement at the back of her throat, but couldn't help how her mind recognized just how tender Leo was being with the young girl. Did he always have that tender side to him? Perhaps she had just been too harsh with him over the past 6 years or so. Was she so blinded by her jealousy of his various rumored mistresses and lovers, that she would ignore the traits that made her so enamored with him in the first place?

"Why?" she finally asked softly, a wealth of questions in that one word. Why did he kiss her? Why did he avoid her? Why was she not enough for him? Why did he leave?

She didn't have to explain. Lionel understood, and after so long, he knew she deserved an explanation.

He took a seat on a stool situated next to Marice's bed, squeezing out the cold towel and placing it on her forehead, whilst replying. "I promised your brother I would care for you and Pippa, should anything ever happen to him." 

"Fabian?" Charlotte murmured, her brows knitting together. It was obvious, and she's always known her only brother was highly overprotective over his family, more so after the death of William Rothesay, but this had to have happened years ago.

Lionel nodded, turning around to meet his eyes with hers. Her gentle eyes, illuminated by the soft moonlight streaming through the windows, was like a punch to his gut. He had never gotten over how beautiful Charlotte looked, especially so when she was dressed in a casual sky blue day dress, her slippers kicked off and her feet tucked underneath her. The kiss they shared was one he had only dreamed of, for years. To have felt her move under his lips, the taste of honeysuckle as she kissed him back, the mere memory of it was enough to make his heart race.

"I was the one who introduced him to being part of the Agents." Lionel saw her eyes widened, and surmised Charlotte didn't know her brother had work far beyond just caring for his tenants as the Duke of Rothesay. "It's dangerous work, and it was in part, how he and Elle ended up together. He knows the consequences, which was why when he married Elle, he promised once he had wrapped up the case that put Elle in such grave danger, he was done with the Agents. But back then, he was worried for the well-being of you and your sister. So he entrusted... me."

A dry, almost hollow laugh escaped his lips. Lionel ran a frustrated hand through his long, dirty blonde locks, the years of frustration finally bubbling to view. "I would be betraying his trust in him if I told him I fantasized about his sister, how each time I visited your estate, I would strain to catch a glimpse of you. Fabian would've thrown me out, and I would lose the only friend I ever had." he paused, the crux of their problems coming out now. "Yet at the same time, I would have to sacrifice the only girl who ever made me feel alive."

His words were like a knife to Charlotte's heart. In a way, she could see where Leo was coming from. She understood in a manner, the difficulties he faced in the choice. And Charlotte also knew for a fact that Fabian would not be happy to find out that she had been fantasizing over him perhaps just as much as Lionel had been stealing glances at her... a dance of evasion and denial they had both been doing for years culminating in a talk in the dead of the night, with a sick child sleeping by them.

"What about what I want then, Leo?" Charlotte murmured, the one question that had been on the tip of her tongue tumbling out.

He met her gaze, stricken when he realized her meaning. 

The silence that lingered after her question was so tense, a knife could cut through. For what felt like the longest moment, they just stared at each other, before Charlotte got off the chaise, slipping her feet into her slippers. She turned to leave, but before she could, Lionel grabbed her wrist, halting her steps. Charlotte refused to turn to look at him however, fearing that one more look would break her, that Lionel would choose the friendship he had with his brother over her. While she understood his logic, the knowledge still hurt her.

But she heard his words anyway.

"I'll work through this." he murmured, squeezing his fingers around her wrist, his tone in earnest. "I promise you, Charlie. I'll.... I'll find a way."

She gulped, not wanting to let herself believe that he actually would. With a twist of her wrist, she slipped out of his grasp, and left the room.

Charlotte had spent a good half of her life riding on a hope that someday, he would see her as a woman, that someday things would work out. She dared not hope any longer.


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