His mouth was warm, soft against hers. She made a tiny sound, the barest whisper, but it was all he needed to take the kiss deeper. Her fur muff dropped to the ground, her hands curled around his shoulders. She could almost taste the desire simmering beneath the kiss, the desire for something more between them.
I should not be kissing him, Charlotte thought, and yet the feel of his tongue and lips was so glorious she could not stop herself. She tilted her head from one side to the other, pushing herself closer, never once breaking the intimate contact of their kiss. Her hands found their way to his chest and she could feel his heart beating under her palm.
A bewildering sweep of heat broke over her body and Charlotte began to feel more than a little dizzy. She clung to the earl and then he pulled back suddenly, wrenching his lips from hers, his breath coming in great gasps, his beautiful eyes a stark reflection of her own need.
"There is something about Christmas and the woods and being alone with you that makes me act like a barbarian," he said hoarsely, his voice as dark as midnight.
She swallowed hard. "Don't forget the brandy, my lord. It seems as though you only want to kiss me once you have partaken of strong spirits."
He gave her a narrow-eyed look, indecision and desire clouding his face. "I kiss you because I cannot seem to stop myself. Perhaps the brandy does give me a sense of false courage, but I can assure you that I am far from drunk."
Charlotte stared at him, moved by the utter conviction in his voice. Yet still so very uncertain of his motives and intentions. She took several steps away from him, feeling an almost physical deprivation without his nearness. "I threw myself at you six years ago and that is something I promise you I shall never do again."
"I know that." His mouth curled into a smile. "Though I cannot promise that I will not throw myself at you."
Charlotte struggled not to smile. There was something so amazingly possessed, so strangely attractive about the earl. She meant every word about not being so easily available to his charms, yet as she stared into his handsome face, it was increasingly difficult not to press her lips to his and run her hands over his chest. Or worst of all, to remain in this secluded spot where she could let him have his way with her.
It was only a lifetime of proper training, coupled with a fair amount of pride, that held her in check. She turned to leave.
"Miss Aldridge! Charlotte, wait!"
Her mouth wobbled, her chest felt constricted by emotion. Yet somehow she found the courage and dignity to turn around and face him.
"My lord?"
"You forgot your fur muff."
She glanced down at the fashionable bit of fur for a long, puzzled moment. "Thank you."
The earl pressed his lips together, but Charlotte could see a faint glimmer of enjoyment on his face. She tried to fix him with a chilling stare, but it was impossible.
Instead, a smile she could not prevent curved her lips. The man was simply too damn charming for his own good.
Charlotte's thoughts were in turmoil when she returned to the manor house. She wanted nothing more than to spend a few quiet hours in her room, pondering the events of the morning. As she rounded a corner, the flash of a gray dress caught her attention. It was Miss Montgomery, moving swiftly down the hall. Her back was to Charlotte, so she did not see her. After a quick glance in all directions to assure they were alone, Charlotte called out.
"Miss Montgomery."
The companion stopped in her tracks, her ear cocked as if confused by the sound of the female voice. She whirled around, then smiled briefly when she recognized Charlotte.
"Miss Aldridge, good afternoon. Is there some way that I may offer you assistance?"
Charlotte advanced on her. "I have something to give you." She fumbled inside her cloak pocket, pulled out Jonathan's note and extended the envelope.
Miss Montgomery stared down at the note, her expression perplexed. "Do you wish me to have this letter posted for you? Harris, as butler, generally handles that household chore, but I would be happy to give it to him."
Charlotte shook her head from side to side. "The note is meant for you."
"You have written me a letter?"
"No. The letter is not from me." Charlotte leaned forward and whispered, "'Tis from a secret admirer."
Miss Montgomery, who was in the process of taking the envelope from Charlotte, pulled her empty hand away and leapt back as if she had just been scalded with boiling water.
"I have no admirer. Secret or otherwise." She stood at attention, stiff and unmoving. "You must be mistaken."
Charlotte smiled, trying to put her at ease. "There is no mistake. It's from Jonathan."
"Oh, dear." Aghast, Miss Montgomery clutched a fist to her chest as though her heart were aching.
Jonathan had told her that Miss Montgomery was fearful of any attention from him, but Charlotte was unprepared for such a violent reaction. "Do you dislike him?" she questioned.
"My opinion of Mr. Barringer is of no consequence." Miss Montgomery studied her for a long moment, almost as though she was trying to evaluate if Charlotte could be trusted. "Any association between Mr. Barringer and myself is highly improper. I am surprised that you would be a party to encourage him in this matter. He does on occasion need to be reminded that he must not shirk his responsibilities to his family. I would expect as his friend you would remind him of his duty."
A becoming blush colored her cheeks and Charlotte was surprised by how different Miss Montgomery appeared when a spark of passionate life shone in her eyes. She was a young and pretty woman, but clearly also considerate and wise. For just an instant Charlotte caught a glimpse of how lonely and isolated she must feel.
"A few lines of poetry hardly constitute an indiscretion," Charlotte said gently.
"If the countess ever found out. . ." Miss Montgomery began ruefully, her voice trailing off.
"She will not," Charlotte promised. "That is why I agreed to act as Jonathan's courier."
That brought a wan smile. Charlotte could see how tempted the other woman was to reach for the note, yet still she hesitated.
"You do not understand, Miss Aldridge, how much of a risk this is for me. How careful I must be." She wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to contain her emotions. "You do not know what it is like to be grateful and indebted and beholden to others for the roof over your head, every stitch of clothing you wear, every bite of food you put in your mouth."
Charlotte was a bit shocked, but she did not show it. "You are right. I have no notion of what your life is like each day. I imagine it must be awful."
Miss Montgomery shook her head. "I do not want to give the impression that I am not grateful for this job, because I am." Her frustration was visible. "It was difficult at first, but I have learned my place. I do not offer an opinion or participate in an important discussion because it is frowned upon.
"I have managed to survive unscathed because I am invisible, because I have so thoroughly concealed any part of my former self. I have masked my emotions for so long that I truly fear I do not know how to feel anymore."
"Then it is past time that you remembered."
Charlotte felt a sudden kinship with this woman who was struggling so mightily with her feelings. She had reluctantly agreed to act as Jonathan's go-between, but now she wanted, in some small way, to alleviate Miss Montgomery's loneliness, her isolation.
Charlotte pressed the envelope into the other woman's hand, wrapping her fingers around it, shielding it from view. Miss Montgomery's skin was icy cold and she was trembling. "Read it, every last word," Charlotte instructed. `Then hide it, guard it carefully."
For a long moment Miss Montgomery silently gaped at the envelope. She looked fragile, delicate and wary, as if the slightest sound might cause her to shatter into a million pieces.
She lifted her head. Her anguished gaze locked with Charlotte's, but then a calm seemed to settle over her entire being. She pulled herself up to her full height. "I will cherish t
his," she replied, holding the note close to her heart. "And if I should wish to reply?"
A huge wave of relief billowed over Charlotte and she barely managed to stifle a giggle. "I shall be happy to ensure that your letters reach the correct individual," she answered with a broad smile.
Miss Montgomery smiled, too.
Charlotte opened the salon door, anxious to visit her grandfather, pleased that they had decided to arrange some private time together. With so many activities planned throughout the day there had been few chances for them to share an honest conversation, to enjoy each other's company without feeling any restraints.
It was therefore a most unpleasant surprise to discover the countess was in the salon with her grandfather. The older woman was seated in a high-backed, ornately carved chair, which Charlotte immediately decided held an uncanny resemblance to a throne.
"Ali, there she is, Lord Reginald," the countess said, her false smile widening. "I told you she would arrive within the hour."
"Am I late?" Charlotte asked with a worried frown as she curtseyed to the countess. "I do hope you have not been waiting long."
"You are right on time, as always," Lord Reginald declared. Charlotte's heart lightened at her grandfather's sweet smile and she appreciated his little protective lie. Punctuality had never been Charlotte's strength.
"Do sit down," the countess instructed. "Harris will bring tea. And something a bit stronger for Lord Reginald. Then we can all have a cozy chat."
Puzzling over the countess's chummy behavior, Charlotte cautiously took a seat. She caught her grandfather's eye, and Lord Reginald shrugged, indicating he too was in the dark. Charlotte's heart thumped in her chest. Had the countess somehow discovered the note thatJonathan had written to Miss Montgomery?
And if she had, what would be the outcome? Charlotte was not well enough acquainted with the countess to know if there would be accusations or hysterics. Or both.
Harris entered with the requested refreshments and Charlotte quickly rallied. She was being foolish, worrying without good cause. She had been careful, discreet. It was highly unlikely the countess knew anything about the note or Jonathan's infatuation with Miss Montgomery. And if she did, well, Charlotte would deal with it.
She was not so easily intimated or bullied. Especially with Grandpapa by her side.
The countess dismissed her butler and took charge of the refreshments. The large ruby ring she wore on her right hand knocked sharply against the delicate china teacup as she passed it to Charlotte.
The door unexpectedly opened and the earl entered the room. The startled expression on his face told them all he had no idea it was occupied. There was a prolonged, awkward silence as he stood beneath the door frame, neither inside nor outside the salon. The countess refused to look at her son, her face pale but for the two bright spots of color on her cheeks.
Lord Reginald cleared his throat. "The tea is hot, the whiskey warm. Please join us, Worthington."
"I am sure the earl is much too busy," the countess interrupted.
The earl refrained from commenting, but his eyes narrowed and the hesitation he exhibited earlier disappeared. "I should very much enjoy sharing a glass of whiskey with you, Lord Reginald," he declared, though he entered the room with all the enthusiasm of a man being sent to the gallows.
"Oh, goodness, I fear this will make things rather awkward and uncomfortable for poor Miss Aldridge." The countess shook her head sadly and leaned closer to Charlotte. "In fact, this is as good a time as any to apologize to you for the earl's presence at Farmin- ton Manor. I never would have extended the invitation to spend Christmas with us if I knew he was going to be here."
Charlotte raised her eyebrow and took a moment to focus her gaze on the countess. "Where else would the earl be at Christmas time than with his family?" she asked, feeling a great indignity on his behalf at being treated so shabbily by his own mother.
"There is no need for you to be so brave. Really, I cannot understand why you, of all people, would defend him," the countess continued, as if the earl were not in the room, hearing every word. "Not after the disgraceful way he treated you."
Charlotte blinked, then folded her hands together. "I am certain I do not know what you are referring to, my lady."
The countess paused and gave her a sympathetic look. "We all know that you were heartbroken, and rightfully so, when my son failed in his duty to ask you to marry him all those years ago. It was what everyone expected, what everyone wanted."
Horrified by the countess's indelicate comments, Charlotte froze. She lifted her chin and looked toward the earl. He stood still as a statue, his arms folded over his chest, his expression unreadable.
"I do not know what you were told of the events, but the earl did not break any promises to me. He did not deceive me in any way." Charlotte gazed pointedly at the countess.
The countess pressed her lips together and looked to Lord Reginald. He squirmed uncomfortably. "You refused the earl's proposal?" the countess asked.
"As you very well know, I did not make Miss Aldridge an offer of marriage," the earl said. Color had crept into his face, but his tone was remorseless.
Charlotte waited for the sour twinge of bitterness to hit her at his stark truth, but it did not come. She raised her chin. "Exactly. I was never jilted because there was no formal proposal."
"He led you on! He kissed you!" The countess's thin nostrils flared. "It was despicable, dishonorable behavior."
Charlotte felt a flash of sympathy for the earl. How awful that your own mother believed the very worst of you. Was it not a parent's role to defend, not condemn, their children, especially in front of others?
"The earl and I did share akiss, but he did not lead me on. I can assure you, my lady, that I hardly expect an offer of marriage from every gentleman I kiss."
The countess squinted at her. "Perhaps now that you are older, your views have become more worldly, but those many years ago you did believe a kiss meant a marriage would be forthcoming."
"There is some truth to that way of thinking, but you must understand that any assumptions concerning a marriage between myself and the earl were only that-assumptions. And they were made on my part, due to my naivete." Charlotte's voice was surprisingly calm, considering her inner fury. "It appears you would like very much to hold your son accountable for any misunderstanding between the two of us, but in this case, he is blameless."
"You are so courageous, acting like a true lady even in the face of adversity," the countess said with a petulant twist of her mouth. "I would expect no less from a woman of your breeding."
"And yet sadly I expect far more from a woman of your background, my lady." Charlotte stood, her eyes flaming, and walked to the door. But before she left, she turned around and made her final point. "I only hope your son can find it in his heart to forgive you, but alas if he cannot, I know that no one of good conscience would blame him."
CHAPTER 11
As scenes go, it wasn't one of his mother's better efforts. When Charlotte left the room, the countess remained seated, her back rigid, a cloud of righteous indignation cloaking her anger. But she said nothing.
Edward decided it might be prudent to depart before she once again found her voice. With a nod of sympathy in Lord Reginald's direction and a stiff bow of farewell to the countess, the earl left the salon.
Happily, he spied Charlotte at the end of the corridor. With long, quick strides he was soon beside her, reaching out and grabbing her elbow as she was about to ascend the staircase and disappear to the sanctity of her bedchamber.
"I beg just a moment of your time, Miss Aldridge."
She raised an eyebrow. "Has there not been enough drama for one afternoon, my lord?"
Edward ignored her sarcasm, opened the door to his private study and waited for her to join him.
"We need to keep this conversation very brief," she said, walking across the room away from him. "If we are discovered alone I fear your mother might insist that I
have been irrevocably compromised and demand that you marry me."
Edward, watching her back, smiled. "I suppose anything is possible, especially when my mother is in such a snit. She did not appear to appreciate your comments."
Charlotte bent her head. "I honestly did not set out to provoke her."
"I believe you. One never intends to do battle, yet it takes little effort for my mother to get under one's skin."
Charlotte grimaced. "She does seem to have a particular talent for it."
Edward could not contain a small smile. "I apologize if she distressed you."
She gave herself a little shake. "No apology is necessary. I was not the one being attacked."
"My mother takes a perverse pleasure in baiting others, especially when she knows they will not fight back." He stared at her for a few brief seconds. "She knew I could offer little in the way of defense, but she never anticipated I would have a champion in you. I thank you for defending me, yet I must ask why. Why did you do it?"
"I was merely stating the truth," Charlotte said with quiet satisfaction. "It seems that the countess had been misinformed about the state of our relationship. I could hardly allow the opportunity to set her to rights slip away without saying anything, could I?"
"We both know 'tis more complicated."
"Perhaps it might have seemed so at the time, but now it is an unfortunate misunderstanding from our past and should be forgotten."
Edward leaned on his desk, cupping the hard edge with both hands. Charlotte had surprised him greatly with her actions. She had told him last week that she accepted his apology and she had just proven how much she meant it. He was suddenly very interested in learning more about her.
"Forgive me for asking a most impertinent question, but marriage is the preferred state for most females. Why have you never married?"
Her brow furrowed and he was relieved she did not appear shocked or outwardly offended by his question.
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