She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Colin, but I don’t understand.”
After only a brief hesitation, he said, “You’ve asked me, on numerous occasions, what I do with my time. Well, this is it.” He gestured around the room with his head. “This is my workshop.”
She frowned. “I could have guessed that much.”
He softened a little, clasping his hands together between his spread legs. “I’m employed by the government.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
A very slow and beautiful grin graced his face, warming her within.
“When I was arrested years ago,” he explained, “I was given the opportunity to meet with Sir Thomas Kilborne, who is now my superior. He thought my work remarkable and offered me a deal I could not refuse. I told you the reasons I never went to prison, except for one: that I agreed to put my talents to good use for the Crown, for which I would be, and have been, handsomely paid.”
She gaped at him, her heartbeat quickening with every word of his disclosure.
“And so, ten years ago,” he continued, “I began working with the branch of government that deals with forgers, forgery, and counterfeiting. Frankly, when I started, I was skeptical regarding the amount of work I’d be given, but I quickly learned there would always be plenty to do.” He grinned again, slyly. “It’s amazing, Charlotte, how many forgers there are in the world—some professional, most amateurs, and very bad ones at that, and of course an ample number sponsored by their countries’ governments.”
“This is unbelievable…” she breathed.
He shrugged. “Not really. I can forge anything, including money, papers, ancient or recent documents, and signatures. I can also detect a forgery, and that’s generally what my employer needs and requires of me.” He gestured to the papers on the shelf to his right. “In those stacks are the signatures of nearly every dignitary in the civilized world today, and of course I add and delete them as they change. I also have access to signatures or handwriting samples from important people through the ages—from ancient Greek philosophers to Constantine, Shakespeare, Napoleon, Roman and Chinese emperors, American presidents, and of course our own monarchy. They’re owned by the government and kept in a tightly secured area, sealed within a vault, to which I have unconditional admittance when needed.” He slumped a little. “The only thing I can’t forge is creative art, though I can expose clever copies by analyzing the paper or background on which it’s painted or drawn, and of course the signature of the artist. But the expert copy of art remains in the exclusive control of the artistically gifted, I’m afraid. I can’t paint to save my soul.”
Charlotte just sat there, thoroughly dumbstruck. Never in her life would she have expected her notably lazy, socially engaging, rogue of a husband, who had spent the last few weeks following her around at the theater as if he had nothing more exciting to do, to be employed by the British government, accomplishing work so specialized and secretive he hadn’t even revealed it to her until now, months after their wedding. Regardless of his wayward past, he now had to be widely held in high esteem given his expertise, and as she considered the respect he no doubt garnered from distinguished government officials, she grew strangely elated and extraordinarily proud of him as a man.
After taking a few long moments to collect herself and organize her thoughts and feelings, she mumbled, “I’m—speechless.”
“That’s so unlike you, my darling Lottie,” he teased.
She brushed off the comment. “How many people know?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Well, let’s see. A select few at the Home Office, mostly those who work in the field of counterfeiting and forgery. Will and Sam know, because they’re my closest friends and supported me unconditionally after my arrest. Their wives know as well, though I’ve never discussed it with the ladies, and of course they’ve never been in this room. And all of my staff know.”
She blinked. “Your staff? You trust this information with your staff and you didn’t tell me until now?”
He laughed. “Are you jealous, Charlotte?”
Eyes sparkling, she replied deviously, “I’m sure there’s nothing you’ve done that would make me jealous, my darling Colin.”
His gaze narrowed considerably and he leaned over to rest his palm on the tabletop. “I adore it when you call me darling,” he murmured huskily.
“I don’t think I’ve ever called you darling,” she replied at once, adjusting her body in the rocker.
“Then you should more often, my darling Lottie.”
She closed her eyes briefly in annoyance. “Colin—”
“My staff know because they’re employed by the government as well,” he carried on, his voice light with lingering amusement. “I need them to be completely trustworthy so I can come and go as I please, free of worry that someone from outside the government will find this room and expose me or my work, or some of these priceless items.”
“You’re joking,” she argued through a laugh.
His lips turned down as he shook his head. “No, I’m not joking. You’ve noticed I have new servants from time to time?” He scratched his temple. “Frequently, actually. That’s because they rotate to other places of employment for the Crown. With every second or third project assigned to me, I also receive an entirely new staff in my home. That way those working here won’t know what secretive items I’ve worked on before, or after, in case any of them hear it discussed or see it. It’s safer for them, I suppose.”
Brows furrowed, she remarked, “You’re a spy?”
He grinned. “Not at all. And I’m not a detective, either. I’m a forger. That’s it.”
It all sounded so wild, so exotic to her as she gazed around the room again, taking note of everything anew in light of his confession.
“Where does that ladder lead?” she asked, pointing with her forehead.
He glanced over his shoulder. “That leads to my bed chamber on the second floor, though I don’t think I’ve ever used it. I suppose I consider it as a method of escape should I need it.”
“Oh.” She felt totally dumbfounded—and thoroughly riveted.
“Now,” he continued, dropping his leg to the floor as he raised himself up to stand beside the table, his hip resting on the edge, “Since we’re discussing secrets, do you have one or two you’d like to share with me?”
Charlotte looked at him again, this time absorbing all of him in a brand new light, taking note of the rolled-up sleeves that revealed his muscular arms, his taut chest, and the hard planes of his face that would make any woman swoon. A truly spectacular man, she mused. And after his revelation today, in his incredible, hidden workroom, she realized for the first time how very much she admired him, and didn’t want to leave him. Or lose him.
Drawing a deep breath for confidence, she said softly, “I’m not sure I have any. At least nothing that can match…this secret confession of yours.”
“Oh?” His brows rose minutely as he began to walk slowly toward her. “Sadie mentioned that you’d been offered a marvelous opportunity to sing in Milan.”
Her mouth opened a little in surprise. “That’s impossible.”
“Impossible? Are you telling me she was mistaken?”
He paused in his stride when he reached the end of the table, about two feet in front of her. Looking up at the doubt on his face made her uneasy.
“No—I mean, yes, I spoke with Mr. Barrington-Graham about it a few days ago, but I’m surprised she knew.”
“Surprised she knew?”
“Yes, surprised she knew,” she repeated. “Porano knows about it as well; he was in the office when Walter informed me, but I was told to keep it to myself for now, until he’s ready to inform the cast. Why Sadie is aware of the offer is anybody’s guess, although I suppose it’s possible Porano told her, or she heard it as rumor and assumed. She shouldn’t know a thing about it, though.”
“But she does,” he countered. “And what’s more, she made it sound as if it’s
common knowledge at the theater. She was certainly happy to inform me.”
Suddenly irritated, she asked, “Did she tell you before or after your kiss?”
Colin blinked, startled, and she smiled smugly to herself.
Then he gave her a slow grin and said slyly, “Before she kissed me, I think.”
She could feel her face getting hot. “And how, pray tell, did she kiss, your grace?”
“My darling, Lottie,” he drawled, “she kisses nothing like you do. But that isn’t the point.”
“Then what is the point?” she asked sarcastically.
He studied her, his eyes narrowing once again in grave speculation. “The point is that other people knew of your plans for days and I, as your husband, did not. Why is that?”
Exasperated, she flopped her hands in the air. “Because I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you about it without you flatly denying me before the words were even out of my mouth.”
He pulled back a little, brows furrowed. “Why would you think I’d deny you this grand opportunity without…consideration? Discussion?”
She looked at him as if he were daft. “Because you haven’t tired of me in bed, apparently. Nor have I given you an heir, per our agreement.”
For a long time, it seemed, he didn’t say a word, though his jaw had hardened and his shoulders appeared to bunch beneath the fine linen of his shirt. But his sharp gaze never strayed from hers.
Finally, he murmured, “Do you honestly believe there’s nothing between us beyond what we had when we married?”
Agitated, she fairly jumped out of the rocker, skirting by him to stand on the other side of the workroom, staring down at the rows of paints and chemicals.
“Why do you insist on making this difficult?” she asked.
He was silent for a moment, then replied, “What am I making difficult, exactly?”
God, did he really not understand, or was he just trying to make her say it?
Whirling around, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Do you intend to take her as your mistress?”
Head tipped to the side a little, he looked at her strangely, and slightly amused. “Sadie?”
“Yes. Or…someone else.”
He shrugged. “I hadn’t planned to, no.”
That’s it? She wanted to scream in frustration. She closed her eyes momentarily and inhaled deeply. It was time for total honesty.
“Colin, are you in love with anyone?” she asked, eyeing him candidly once more.
Very, very slowly, the gentle smile on his face faded as his features grew serious once more. “What are you asking me, Charlotte?”
She swallowed with the immediate coiling in her belly, but she couldn’t drop her gaze from the starkness of his. “Do you intend to have a love affair with anyone else while we’re married?”
Seconds ticked by in deadly silence. Then he raised his chin a little and exhaled a full breath. “Not if you give me everything I want,” he revealed softly.
She shifted from one foot to the other. “What, exactly, do you want from me, Colin?”
The heat from his eyes seared through her, making her suddenly weak at the knees, and horribly afraid of his answer.
“I want you to stay here, in England, with me,” he murmured gravely. “I don’t want you leaving me to go to Italy. Not now. Not until we have a chance to be together for a while.” He clenched his jaw, then added huskily, “I need you, Charlotte.”
“To satisfy you in bed,” she replied.
He shook his head. “For everything.”
She’d never expected such a blunt admission from him, and something inside of her melted, wanted, hoped for all he could give in return. She assumed they were discussing sex, but their discussion had suddenly become more than that, much more. And he felt it, too.
A sharp tension sparked between them, instantly charging the air. Then he straightened and started moving toward her, staring at her intently.
“And now that I’ve told you,” he articulated, his tone dark and quiet, “it’s your turn. What exactly do you want from me?”
She started trembling and reached behind her with both hands, grasping the shelf with tight fingers. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
He shook his head very slowly. “I don’t believe you.”
He towered over her now, effectively securing her from all movement, peering into her eyes as if waiting for her to voice some incredible truth, even vital information. But Charlotte refused to be intimidated.
“I don’t know, sir,” she said thickly. “I—the logical and headstrong part of me wants you to just take a mistress, find love and passion elsewhere, and leave me alone to travel, to sing, to be content, and fulfill my dreams—”
“And the other part?” he cut in sharply.
She bit down hard, her eyes no doubt expressing the twisted confusion and longing she felt inside. At last, she inhaled a shaky breath and replied, “The emotional and irrational part of me wants you to call me Lottie every day, to…stay by my side and never leave me, wherever I am, so that I’m not only content, but also happy. I want you to tell me I’m more exciting, more beautiful, and…that I kiss better than Sadie.”
His expression went blank with absolute incredulity.
She closed her eyes and wiped a palm across her forehead. “I know that’s stupid.”
He lifted her chin with a finger and she couldn’t help but raise her lashes, unable to avoid his intense scrutiny.
Almost smiling, his gaze skimmed her face, her lips. Then he murmured, “I’ve never known anyone who kisses as perfectly as you do, Charlotte, and I’ve never known anyone more beautiful. You’re an amazing woman, deserving of everything you’ve ever dreamed about. All you need to do is ask.”
Tears filled her eyes, though she never looked away from his mesmerizing face. With mounting determination, she whispered fiercely, “I want what’s missing.”
In that flash of an instant, everything changed between them. He stilled for a timeless moment, his breathing nearly stopped, his gaze melding with hers. Then, very slowly, he lowered it to her mouth and placed his thumb on her lips, swallowing hard as he made contact.
Charlotte couldn’t move, couldn’t take her eyes off his face even as she blinked away tears. Her body still trembled, and he certainly felt it, for as he raised his gaze back to capture hers once more, he cupped her chin in his palm, and leaned over to kiss the wetness from her lashes.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. With her surrender, he lowered his lips to hers, and in one fast action, lifted her up into his arms and carried her from the workroom.
Chapter 20
He carried her through the scullery and out into the kitchen, breaking from their kiss only long enough to tell Betsy to lock the workroom door.
He didn’t care what his servants thought; he didn’t care about anything but her—her lush lips teasing his, her soft breasts crushed against his chest, her arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she were afraid he’d let her go.
I want what’s missing…
Her desperate and softly spoken wish had been the key that unlocked the deepest chambers of his heart, exposing his fear of all the uncertainties they shared. He’d wanted Lottie English for so long that having her in his bed had been enough. But now his desire went beyond that. He wanted to be his wife’s greatest passion, and to give her everything in return.
Swiftly, and with little effort, he carried her up the stairs and into his bed chamber, pausing only long enough to close the door with a firm push of his foot.
“Colin—”
“Shhh…” he whispered against her cheek. “I’m going to make love to you, Lottie.”
“It’s still daytime,” she said hesitantly.
He brushed his lips against hers as he gently lowered her to the floor at the edge of the bed. “It’s the perfect time. Now turn around.”
She did as he bid without question. Quickly, with nimble fingers,
he unbuttoned her gown, then slipped his hands inside the soft fabric and pushed it over her shoulders. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and pulled the bodice over her breasts as he went to work untying her corset. In less than a minute he had undressed her, and as she stood in a puddle of silk and petticoats, he grazed her bare back with his palms, her neck with his lips, eliciting a shiver.
“Take your hair down,” he murmured as he began to unfasten the buttons on his shirt.
Raising her arms, she silently unpinned her braids from atop her head, then ran her fingers through them, pulling her hair loose, then shaking her curls free. She kept her back to him, facing the bed, as he finally pulled off the remainder of his clothes and tossed them aside.
Standing hard and erect, he stepped forward and pressed his body into hers. She gasped when she felt his chest against her shoulder blades, his rigid erection pressed into the curve of her lower back. He brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck again, ran his lips along the edge of her ear, then wrapped his arms around her to cup her breasts and lightly knead them.
“I want to give you what’s missing,” he whispered.
A tiny whimper escaped her throat. She leaned her head back to rest on his chest as she covered his hands with her own, lightly stroking his knuckles with her fingertips.
Her nipples stood out tautly against his palms as he caressed them, and a tremor of excitement surged through his groin. Grasping her thumb with his own, he slowly began to draw their right hands together down her belly, caressing her warm, silky skin with every inch, pressing lower until he reached her intimate mound of hair, then threading their fingers through the softness until she instinctively spread her legs apart ever so slightly, giving him greater access.
He left gentle kisses across her shoulder, brushed his lips back and forth along warm skin as he kneaded her breast with his left hand and held steady with the other between her thighs. Then he released his hold of her thumb and closed his right palm over hers, pressing her fingers into the folds of her cleft.
“Let me feel you touch yourself,” he whispered, his warm breath making gooseflesh rise as his lips traced a line down her neck.
The Duke’s Indiscretion Page 24
