And then, before he knew it, she was done with breakfast and asking to be excused as she had to meet with the foreman about the guest suites on the second floor. She left the room much the way she had entered, although the air seemed to have left with her, Joshua noticed as he regarded his half-eaten breakfast and unconsciously lifted a hand to touch his cheek where she had kissed him.
Marriage to Charlotte Bingham would be in his best interest, he remembered thinking as he had finished his breakfast. She looked now even more fetching then she had that morning.
What would she look like in a few moments?
“It is you who have a caller, Lady Charlotte,” Joshua stated as he watched the beautiful blonde woman move into the room, saw the surprise in her face when he made his comment, and saw something else in her features, as well.
Recognition.
“Why, Mr. Forster, what a pleasant surprise!” she said happily, moving quickly toward the man with her right hand held out as if she intended to shake his hand. Gisborn caught it in his own but lifted it to his mouth, brushing her knuckles with his lips. Charlotte’s breath caught in surprise.
“Lady Charlotte, ‘tis so very good to see you again,” Gisborn said, lowering her hand but hanging on to it entirely too long.
Charlotte’s face took on a pink blush as she pulled her hand away and buried it under the pile of fabric swatches she cradled against her hip. She felt her face flush as she noticed Henry Forster’s intense gaze. “What brings you to Wisborough Oaks, Mr. Forster?” she wondered, carefully taking a step back and to the side when she remembered the duke was somewhere behind her.
“You do, milady,” Gisborn replied with a nod.
At Charlotte’s upraised eyebrows and quick glance in his direction, Joshua cleared his throat. “Lady Charlotte Bingham, may I present Henry Forster, the Earl of Gisborn?” he stated formally. He unconsciously held his breath while he carefully watched her reaction, watched while her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’.
“Gisborn?” she repeated in disbelief. She visibly swallowed. She blinked. She seemed to have trouble breathing. “Forgive me, my lord. I had no idea you were an earl,” she apologized with a shake of her head. He’s not the old, decrepit man, she found herself thinking, wondering when her father had made the arrangements for her to be betrothed to this Earl of Gisborn. “When we last met …”
“I was still just Henry Forster,” Gisborn finished for her, his hands moving to clasp together behind his back as he stood watching her. She was more beautiful than he remembered; something about her bearing was more regal, her hairstyle more mature. She will make a perfect countess, he thought happily. “I recently inherited the title from my late uncle,” he explained as he watched Charlotte sink into an adjacent chair, her face showing she was still awestruck by the news.
Once she was seated, both Gisborn and Joshua reseated themselves, and both carefully watched her as they did so. Joshua thought she appeared as if she might faint and wondered why as he settled into his chair. When had the two of them last met? he wondered, not having seen Gisborn at any ton balls the season before.
“Despite a wife and seventy years on this earth, he died without issue,” Gisborn explained lightly, “And, so, I find myself in a position of some fortune and … responsibility.” He was leaning forward a bit in his chair, his entire attention on Charlotte as he made his explanation.
Charlotte nodded her understanding. What had he said about what brought him calling today?
You do, he had said.
Had he come all the way from Oxfordshire? Her stomach seemed to do a flip she hoped wasn’t visible to the two men who regarded her. “And why is it I bring you to Wisborough Oaks, my lord?” she asked then, her father’s words echoing in her memory. He had threatened her with a betrothal to the Earl of Gisborn, but he had implied the earl was elderly and in need of an heir. Henry Forster was by no means old. He is maybe thirty, she thought as she tried to remember him from when her family spent summers at Ellsworth Park. She was so much younger—they had never played together, but as a young girl, she could remember thinking him to be quite handsome. Then, when she had seen him at Lady Worthington’s musicale last year, she had been surprised to realize he was still just as handsome, although the planes of his face were more severe than they had been when he was a youth. She regarded him now with a bit of trepidation. Attractive, masculine, very … dangerous, she considered. She hadn’t thought that about him when she had met him at Lady Worthington’s last February. His dark hair, which featured a lock that fell onto his forehead just above his right eye, was cut so it barely touched his cravat. Arched eyebrows and long sideburns gave his face a stern appearance, which, when he wasn’t smiling, could be considered menacing. When he smiled, as he was doing now, he appeared friendly. A long, straight nose, not quite an aristocrat’s nose since it lacked a hook, led to lips that could be quite kissable. His heavy lidded eyes were surprisingly blue, their color so intense it was hard to look directly at him without feeling as if she were caught in a trap. His trap.
As Charlotte was feeling this very instant.
“According to the agreement I made with your father last week, you are my betrothed,” he said gently, his face coloring up a bit as he made the declaration. He dared a glance at Joshua, wondering if the duke would interrupt or otherwise counter his explanation. “I was … concerned when I discovered you had left London after your father’s hospitalization. I was sure I would find you at his bedside,” Gisborn continued quietly.
Charlotte chanced a quick look at Joshua before returning her attention to Gisborn. Caught in a trap, indeed, she thought as she wondered how to reply. “I understand my mother spends her days at my father’s bedside. Since I am estranged from him, I find it would be a waste of my time to do so. As to a betrothal, my lord, I am already betrothed to His Grace,” she motioned in Joshua’s direction, “And have been since I was three years old. I do not believe it was … suitable for my father to promise me to another,” she stammered. “I am very sorry he has wasted your time. I do hope this … has not cost you,” she added, suddenly worried as to what lengths Gisborn had gone to discover her location and to travel to Wisborough Oaks. She dared another glance in Joshua’s direction. His facial expression was entirely unreadable, but his posture suggested he was a caged animal ready to attack—just as soon as the doors were opened.
Gisborn straightened in his chair and Joshua followed suit. “Your father was quite insistent you be married to me,” Gisborn countered, his voice taking on a tone one might use with a stubborn child. “Indeed, he has already signed over the deed to your family’s estate in Oxfordshire,” he reasoned, pulling out a folded packet of papers from his coat pocket.
Charlotte gasped at this bit of news. “How dare he?” she whispered, her brows furrowing until there was a line between them. Whatever could her father be thinking to simply give away Ellsworth Park? “Forgive me. I have spent my entire life learning how to be the wife of a duke, but my lessons didn’t include how to handle dual betrothals.”
The earl spread his hands through the air in front of him. “I am sure you must know a betrothal made in the past is forfeit when another is made after it,” Gisborn stated, his tone suggesting a hint of superiority, as if he was proud of having gained something a duke once possessed.
Joshua noted the tone of Gisborn’s voice and turned his attention to Charlotte. “Were you present for the betrothal to Gisborn?” he asked gently.
Charlotte eyes, downcast for the past several moments, looked up and found his. They were bright with unshed tears, and he wondered why. When she had come into the room, she had seemed most pleased, happy, even, to see Gisborn, offering her hand as if they were dear friends. He now wondered how much they still knew of one another. He thought perhaps she should be happy about Gisborn’s news of their betrothal— perhaps she was—it meant she was released from her duty to wed the Duke of Chichester.
>
To wed me.
Now, as he watched the interplay between the two, he realized she couldn’t have known of her father’s more recent agreement to marry her off to the earl. If she had known, why would she come to Wisborough Oaks?
“I was not present,” she said with a shake of her head. “My lord’s announcement today is the first I have heard of such an arrangement.”
Joshua turned his attention back to Gisborn. “I am sure you must know a betrothal made without one of the parties present is not binding,” he stated evenly, feeling a sense of triumph he couldn’t explain.
Gisborn’s eyes flashed with a hint of anger, but it was Charlotte who suddenly straightened. “And I am sure you both must know betrothals are no longer binding in England,” she said, doing her best to suppress a sob. She swallowed hard and then took a deep breath. “If you will excuse me,” she added, rising from her chair so quickly the two men were caught unawares. They struggled to stand up. “I have work to do.” Charlotte was out the door before either man could respond.
Joshua regarded Gisborn for only a moment before the angry earl cocked his head to one side. “Whatever does she mean, ‘I have work to do’?” he bellowed, waving one arm in the direction of Charlotte’s sudden departure.
Sighing, Joshua did his best to calm his own nerves, a practice at which he had become very good over the past few days. “As chatelaine of Wisborough Oaks, she is in charge of choosing the decor and furnishings for the new rooms, and she is trying very hard to stay ahead of the construction crew,” he said by way of explanation. “My foreman seems to think she should open her own business and hire herself out for this kind of work,” he added conversationally, knowing the comment and the tone of his voice would only annoy the earl. He wasn’t disappointed to see Gisborn’s mouth drop open in shock at the suggestion a lady turn to trade in order to make a living.
“The devil!” Gisborn cursed in disgust. “I do hope you put him in his place!”
Joshua sighed and decided to change the subject. “Do you have arrangements to stay the night anywhere?” he asked quietly.
Gisborn lowered his gaze, thinking he was being dismissed. Charlotte had made her point very clear—at the moment, she didn’t seem inclined to want to marry either of the men who had claims to her. Gisborn knew he couldn’t force her into a marriage, nor would he do so. But he didn’t want to simply give up. “I will take my leave of you now and see to accommodations in town,” he stated, nodding to Joshua.
“I believe there may be an extra bedchamber available somewhere in this house,” Joshua said suddenly, feeling the need to offer the earl a room. “Please accept my hospitality,” he urged when Gisborn gave him a look of surprise. He knew he would have to take Charlotte aside later and explain his reasoning for making the offer.
“That is very kind of you, Your Grace. I … I accept, of course,” Gisborn replied hesitantly, obviously humbled by the offer. He thought it best to keep himself in close proximity if for no other reason than an opportunity to press his case with Charlotte.
Gates stood near the library door. “If you’ll follow me, my lord, I’ll take you to your bedchamber.”
As Gisborn moved to join Gates, a knock sounded at the library door. “That will be Lady Charlotte returning,” Joshua said before calling out, “Come in!”
Gisborn’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “How …?” The footman opened the door and, as Joshua expected, Charlotte entered, still carrying the fabric swatches she held during their earlier discussion. The men bowed and she curtsied in turn. “Please excuse my intrusion, Wainwright,” she turned to Gisborn, “My lord.” She returned her attention to Joshua and walked toward him. “I really must ask you about your preference of the primary fabric for the new master suite,” she said as she moved to stand at his side, her entire demeanor suggesting the earlier discussion hadn’t even taken place. “I’ve narrowed it down to these three, and given the other selections for the room, any of these would be suitable.”
She held out three different fabrics, all very elegant and all in colors Joshua found quite pleasing. He found himself wondering if she liked them or just thought he might. Joshua kept his voice low as he replied, “If you were to enter a master suite, say, because your husband had requested your presence therein, which fabric would put you most at ease, my lady?” he asked sotto voce. The scent from her hair was suddenly in his nostrils, and he inhaled slowly, remembering how she smelled and what she had felt like pressed up against his bare body just two nights ago, what she had felt like pressed up against him just last night. I should have ruined her, he thought suddenly, and then scolded himself for the spiteful reaction.
Charlotte’s breath caught, her face coloring to that familiar shade he had found so fetching when he watched as her wound was stitched up by the doctor. “Wainwright,” she whispered, swallowing nervously and wanting so much to admonish him for his impropriety. Then a thought struck her, helping to tamp down her feeling of anger towards the duke. Was he suggesting he would ask her to join him in the suite at some point? That he would ask for her hand, despite Gisborn’s claim and the fact her family’s lands in Oxfordshire had apparently already been signed over to the earl?
If so, then why was the earl still here? And why hadn’t Joshua asked for her hand?
Why didn’t he ruin me when he had the chance?
She dropped her eyes to the swatches and made a decision as to which one she preferred. Lifting her hand to indicate a dark navy velvet, she was about to point to it when Joshua pulled the same swatch from her hand and held it up. She allowed a wan smile and nodded, but there was still a hint of annoyance in her expression.
“I think it shall be this one,” he murmured, giving her the swatch.
“Whatever are you doing?” she whispered hoarsely, moving to stand between the earl and Joshua. She was suddenly furious with him for having remained mum during Gisborn’s invitation, furious with him for not having offered for her hand when she had first arrived. And now she was just furious.
Joshua took a deep breath and regarded Charlotte for several moments before giving her an answer. “Lady Charlotte,” he spoke quietly, reaching down to capture her hand in his. “I have no intention of letting him simply take you as his wife just because he thinks he’s entitled to you. But you’re not yet of age. Until you reach your majority, you cannot get married without consent from your parents. And you cannot be forced to marry against your will,” he reminded her quietly. “Now that you no longer have to marry out of a sense of duty, this is your opportunity to be courted, Charlotte, just like any other debutante making her come-out at a ton ball. Don’t deny yourself this chance to choose your own husband.” He watched the play of emotions cross Charlotte’s face as she considered his words. “Perhaps you can even marry for love,” he suggested, hoping his desire for her wasn’t evident in his voice.
Her eyes widening, but for a different reason, Charlotte nodded her understanding. Could you ever love me? she desperately wanted to ask him. “Do you suppose you will ever … wish to court me?” she asked instead, her face suddenly blushing pink. She averted her gaze, obviously embarrassed by her question.
Joshua felt a sudden rush of gladness, but then, on further consideration of her query, he frowned. “I thought I had already started,” he replied, allowing a hint of amusement to show on his face. He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed the backs of her fingers with his lips.
Charlotte’s breath caught. “I look forward to your continued overtures,” she responded quietly. She closed her eyes a moment and then reopened them to find Joshua’s face impossibly close to hers. He leaned down and quickly kissed her on the corner of her mouth.
“Perhaps you will agree to a meeting with me tomorrow so I can review what you’ve done thus far?” he wondered in a louder voice. “I should like you to show me what you have chosen.” The tone of his voice was almost businesslike; there wasn’t a hint of amusem
ent or irony suggesting he meant something different by the question.
Disappointed by the unromantic nature of his proposal, Charlotte caught her lower lip with a tooth. “That would be agreeable, Your Grace,” she answered without emotion. And it annoyed her enough to ask him about his offer of hospitality to Gisborn. “Why ever would you allow him to stay under your roof?” she whispered hoarsely. She had heard the offer from outside the doors to the library and almost didn’t come back in. She had wanted nothing more than to hide from the earl in the hopes he would go away and never come back.
Smiling, Joshua leaned down to whisper in her ear, making sure his lips touched the edge of a whorl as he said, “Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.”
Charlotte’s smile was hesitant, a bit because she wondered to what lengths Joshua might go to keep the upper hand, but more because his intimate touch had caused a rather pleasant frisson to pass through her entire body.
“Lady Charlotte, we have unfinished business with the earl,” he added in a voice meant to be overheard by Gisborn. As he regarded Charlotte, he was aware that, with her eyes, she was begging him to ask Gisborn take his leave. But if what the earl had said was true—that he already held title to Bingham’s lands in Oxfordshire—then he felt Charlotte really should give Gisborn’s offer some consideration.
“Indeed,” Gisborn chimed in, wondering if their low-voiced discussion was only about fabric or if something else was being said. “My lady, I know I should not wish to compel you into a marriage you may not want, but seeing as I have already been given title to your family’s property, it seems only reasonable you give my claim its due. I believe I would make a suitable husband, and you would be a perfect countess.”
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