Cold husband burning regret

Chapter 394

“They’re all from Vera–she says reading helps her relax,” Hiram said, glancing at the stack of novels by his bed.

Charlotte sat in the visitor’s chair, eyes warm with affection. “Vera’s a good girl, Hiram. But don’t go burdening her with too much. If you need help, come to me instead. I’m your sister, after all–I’d never hold it against you.”

Hiram hesitated, lowering his gaze as something seemed to trouble him. “But I can’t keep leaning on you forever. I know I’ve always been reckless and immature. Mom and Dad say they dote on me, but honestly, they don’t think I’ll ever amount to much. They believe my only shot at success is by relying on my sister’s husband.”

He trailed off, a shadow flickering across his face. “All those years you spent with the Howard family, everything you went through… If I’d known sooner, I wouldn’t have-”

Charlotte cut him off, her tone gentle but firm. “Let’s not dwell on the past. It’s over now.”

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to go back to the city?”

He looked up, startled. “Back to the city?”

“Mom and Dad’s place is still there. Uncle’s family won’t cause trouble anymore. If you want to, I can arrange for someone to bring you home.”

Hiram searched her face for a long moment before speaking, voice low. “Is this because that woman wants me gone? Are you asking me to leave because you’re worried she’ll try something again?”

Charlotte’s gaze fell. “I do worry about you getting hurt again. And I don’t want Tricia coming around anymore.”

Though Tricia was his own sister, Charlotte knew Hiram could never accept the truth–or the pain that came with it.

doing this out of concern, then I won’t argue. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind seeing

saying

room, she sent a

came quickly: [I’ll have Julian

1/3

Chapter 394

against anyone trying to interfere under

Relief washed over Charlotte.

messaged her, inviting her to the

The sprawling private gardens stretched green as far as the eye could see, the sunlight catching on endless rows of tea bushes. Rising from the greenery stood a white glasshouse, its four

cozy sitting area arranged for tea and conversation. Mrs. Rivers sat at the table, pouring tea,

turned to her guests. “This is Laurinda’s daughter, and

Charlotte not by her married name but by her

polite nod to the

introduction, Mrs. Rivers gestured to a sharp–featured woman with a stylish

the name triggering a memory: Gentry

fuller–figured and lively, was Mrs. Chamberlain. Her husband worked alongside Winston Rivers,

really do resemble your mother,” Mrs. Moore said, kindly. “I’d heard the Rayburns had found their daughter after more than twenty

believe it till now!”

a beauty when she was