Charlotte Collins busied herself in her private parlor, happy to hear the sounds of her husband leaving the house. A knock on the door followed not a half an hour after he had left. Wondering who would call on her, as she had made no friends in the area being here only a few days Charlotte waited. The parlor door opened and the maid announced the visitor.

"Mr. Goulding, ma'am." Charlotte started at the name of one of her old acquaintances of Hertfordshire. Her surprise only mounted as the gentleman himself walked through the door.

"Miss—No, forgive me—Mrs. Collins, I trust that you are well."

"Yes, I thank you. And yourself, are you well?" Goulding nodded his head absently, looking away.

"I had only just returned to Haye-Park when I heard the news that you had married. I had planned to write, but as I was passing through the neighborhood, I felt it would be better if I call." Charlotte dipped her head in acknowledgement of his kindness, and offered for him to sit.

"I thank you for the pains you took to stop and offer congratulations, but it really was—." He raised a hand to silence her and began speaking before her words had even cleared the air between them.

"I did not offer my congratulations, nor will I." Charlotte eyed him levelly, though startled by the venom in his voice.

"Will you not?" He shook his head vehemently.

"No! Why did you marry such a man as he? He has no sense and little of anything else worth your consideration. What did you see in him, for you cannot love him!" Charlotte bristled and couldn't help the malice that lined her next words.

"Who says I do not love him?" Charlotte demanded, jumping to her feet. Goulding copied the movement before replying.

"I do." He nearly growled the words shocking them both with his intensity. "I have known you most of your life. I can tell that that you do not love him, indeed you never could love such a man." Charlotte was silent, unable to deny what they both knew to be true.

"Why," asked he, in a much gentler tone, "did you marry him?" His eyes pleaded her to tell him the truth, and she averted her own eyes to conceal the tears that were building up in them.

"At twenty-seven years old, I had few prospects. He offered me security and he allowed me to free my parents of the burden of having a daughter so old and unmarried." Goulding continued to stare at her profile, willing her eyes to return to him.

"And do you believe you made the right choice?" Charlotte sat, unsure if her legs were up to the task of holding her up.

"What else could I have done? It wasn't as if there were men lining up outside my door."

"But, if you had waited-." Charlotte shook her head and sighed.

"What good would that have done? I was old and had little to recommend me. Who would have taken me?" Suddenly her hand grew warm, and she looked down to see Goulding had taken possession of it. Looking up into his eyes, she could not name what she saw there, but it frightened her none the less.

"I would." His simple answer sent chills up her spine and heat rise to her face. "Why do you think I left? I went to gain us a fortune so we could marry."

"But why? I was plain and old, without fortune, title or connections to make me a good match for anyone." Goulding grabbed her other hand and encased it in his free one, effectively trapping her in the chair.

"You are beautiful to me." Charlotte looked into his eyes and finally named the emotion there, love. She had never seen it, especially not directed at her. Goulding leaned in closer to her, but it was she who closed the final distance. The kiss they shared was nether demanding nor chaste. It was the first kiss of a true love, hesitant, but sweet. And as he pulled away, tears ran freely down Charlotte's cheeks, for now she knew what it was to love, but only after all love was in vain. He kissed the tears away in a tender gesture she could never have expected from her husband.

"Don't cry, please don't cry." He held her close and rocked her gently.

"I love you." She whispered this so softly that he could not be sure he heard it.

"I have loved you these past ten years at least, but I only gather the courage to tell you after all hope for us is gone. I am an idiot." Charlotte did not deny the last statement, for she could not help believing it was true.

"What do we do now?" Charlotte asked, the tears returning to her eyes. Goulding would have paced the floor, but he felt there was more comfort in her touch than in that action.

"What we can."

"And, what is that?" Goulding let out a long mournful sigh.

"Nothing." Charlotte muffled her sobs slightly, but Goulding quickly offered his handkerchief. Through the parlor window, they could hear the sounds of Mr. Collins whistling as he returned down the drive.

"You must go." Goulding nodded, but both remained frozen as they were.

"I will go, but promise me that if anything should happen to you, or when your husband dies, you will write to me. For whether it is ten, twenty or even fifty years from now, you will always have my love and my heart." Charlotte deposited a lingering kiss on his lips that promised everything he wanted and more. Yet even as the promises were exchanged, both knew the kiss was also saying goodbye.