How the Lady Charmed the Marquess

by Laura A. Barnes

  Sinclair held his hands up. “My apologies again, sweet Evelyn. Once again your beauty overtook all rational thought.”

  Charlie felt the blush spread across her cheeks at his flattery. When he stepped back to allow her to hit, she made sure not to dawdle. If Sinclair were to touch her again or whisper in her ear, she would become a muddled mess on her uncle’s lawn. With everyone to witness.

  Just as she swung the mallet back, ready to hit the ball, Sinclair ran his fingers along the buttons on the back of her dress. “A piece of advice, my dear.”

  Charlie closed her eyes and gulped when Sinclair slid the buttons undone on her dress. The mallet hung in the air. Sinclair’s actions scandalized her, where anyone could see. However, Charlie secretly wished he would slide his fingers inside the dress and caress her with his gentle touch.

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  Then as quickly as he unbuttoned the dress, he slid them closed again. “The next time you switch places with Evelyn, make sure your dress is in proper order, Charlotte.”

  Charlie’s eyes flew open and she swung the mallet, smacking the ball so hard it flew into the trees. The devil. Sinclair had played her. Charlie thought she had fooled Sinclair, only for him to play his own game at her expense. She turned and glared at him.

  “I warned you to tap it lightly.”

  Charlie scowled and stomped off toward the trees. She swung the mallet back and forth across the weeds, slicing it through the air. Her anger directed at the wilderness, when it should be at the irritating lord she'd walked away from. The very one she heard following, his laughter echoing. She wasn’t even looking for the ball, only trying to vent her frustration.

  Sinclair followed Charlie in her rant as she destroyed the poor wildflowers in her path. He almost ran into her when she spun and started advancing on him. She held onto the base of the mallet and pointed the end at him. Charlie poked him in the chest, snarling. She was a tempting package when she was feisty. Sinclair enjoyed frustrating Charlie.

  “You knew all along.” With each word she tapped him on the chest.

  Sinclair yanked at the stick, pulling Charlie closer. Once he reached the base, he peeled her hands away and dropped the mallet at their feet. He drew her into his embrace, lowering his mouth but a breath away from hers. Sinclair caught the hitch in Charlotte’s breath through his lips. He watched her mouth tremble. His only answer was to draw her lips between his. When she opened her mouth in astonishment, he slid his tongue inside to stroke slowly. Savoring every delicious flavor of Charlotte Holbrooke. Her response surprised him when she slid her hands through his hair and drew him closer. When she moaned, Sinclair was lost. He devoured Charlie, drawing one kiss after another. Each moan lasted longer than the one from before. Each one of his kisses stroked the flames higher to hear the whisper of her pleasure. Charlotte consumed his senses, making him lose all practical sense to their location. Sinclair needed to withdraw and put distance between them, but his senses fought against him. Only one more kiss he promised, then he would stop. Sinclair needed to stop before he did something so foolish that it would have him married to Charlotte. What he truly desired was to lay her amongst the wildflowers and show how he knew it was her and not Evelyn all long.

  Sinclair had finally accomplished what Charlie had fought against over the last few months whenever she was near him. He had turned her into a muddled state of confusion. No, he made her curious. No, he ignited her desire. His kisses melted her insides and flamed her senses. They became more demanding with each stroke of his tongue, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Charlie only knew she wanted more. When she sensed that he would pull away, she clung tighter. When his lips withdrew, her tongue slid slowly across his lips, tasting him. Jasper tasted of the warm afternoon sun mixed with sin. A taste Charlie never wanted to end. Her tongue slid inside and then back again to his lips. When she repeated, he growled and pulled her closer, devouring her.

  Charlie’s innocent exploration pushed his restraint past the need to be a gentleman. He wanted her with a need so powerful he wouldn’t be able to control. This was madness. He pushed her away from him before he acted on his desires. Sinclair strode away, putting much needed distance between them. He ran his fingers through his hair over and over, his steps taking him up the hill. Sinclair fought with his control, trying to rationalize what in the hell had just happened.

  Why did Charlotte, of all women, make him want to lose control? He had a plan for this week. That was to persuade her to help him gain ownership of a horse. Instead, one kiss that Sinclair meant to only tease Charlie with, had exploded into a sensation of ecstasy. Her innocent response, her needful moans, the stroking of her fingers through his hair, undid him. Sinclair turned to the source of his frustration.

  Charlie stood in the meadows with her fingers held to her lips. The bonnet she had worn to hide her identity lay at her feet. During their kiss, he must have taken it off. Even from this distance, she held the look of a woman who had been ravished. Her wide eyes, swollen lips, and tousled hair lay proof of the kiss they shared. Nay, kisses. Sinclair couldn’t stop at one. He was a greedy bastard that took more. What made him even more selfish was the need to make Charlotte his.

  CHARLOTTE WATCHED JASPER trudge up the hill. She couldn’t move to save herself. With each step he took away from her, Charlotte lost a piece of herself. When his lips took possession of hers, she gave him a piece of her soul. She had experienced nothing so powerful before. Her body stood crying for him. Even though he was near, the need to have him closer overtook her senses.

  Why of all the gentlemen in attendance did Jasper Sinclair have to be the one who awakened her? After losing her parents, Charlotte had only gone through the motions to get through life. While she projected the image of being carefree and adventurous, she was anything but. She was scared to love. Scared to be loved. Why did Jasper have to kiss her?

  Charlie ran her fingers over where his lips had caressed hers. She felt the warmth of Jasper. The rest of her body tingled from being held so close to him. Her body stood yearning with an unfamiliar ache, begging for him to return. Only he wouldn’t.

  “Evelyn,” Charlie heard her sister calling. “Evelyn, where are you? You are missing tea. Lord Sinclair?”

  Charlotte locked eyes with Jasper. She didn’t understand his expression. Charlie titled her head to the side. It wasn’t one of guilt, but it also wasn’t one of pleasure. He looked disappointed. In himself? Or her?

  “Charlie,” Evelyn hissed, trying to draw Charlie’s attention away from Sinclair.

  “Mmm.”

  “Charlie,” Evelyn whispered with more emphasis. “What happened?”

  “He kissed me.”

  “Sinclair?”

  “Yes,” Charlie sighed.

  “Oh my. Charlotte, you must return with me, your whereabouts are being whispered amongst the guests.”

  Charlie wouldn’t look away from Jasper. His regard haunted her. Even when Evelyn picked up the bonnet and fixed her hair, putting Charlie’s dress to rights. Jasper disappeared over the ridge, and Charlie kept staring. Evelyn tugged at Charlie to follow her, muttering about marquesses, scandals, and Charlotte’s ruination.

  “We must return now.”

  “Evelyn.”

  Evelyn stopped. “Yes, dear?”

  “I now understand what you described this morning about the effect of Worthington’s kiss. You know when you said it was like coming home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes,” Charlie sighed.

  “Oh, Charlotte.”

  “He knew the entire time.”

  “Knew what?” Evelyn asked, picking up the discarded mallet and searching for the ball. Once she located them they continued back into the open lawn. Charlie kept glancing over her shoulder for any sign of Sinclair. When he never reappeared, Charlie lost hope. Did she scare him away with her forwardness?

  “That we had switched places.”

  “How? No one else guessed.”

&
nbsp; “Sinclair did not reveal how he figured out the difference.”

  “Did you ask?”

  “I accused him of it, then in the next moment he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.”

  “Did you slap him?”

  “No. I kissed him back.”

  “You did what?”

  By this time they had arrived near the steps to the terrace. Charlotte couldn’t answer any more of Evelyn’s questions without revealing their switched identities. Charlotte would have to answer to Evelyn later, but for now Aunt Susanna’s questions of her disappearance saved her. Luckily, Evelyn was quick on her toes and answered for her, displaying the lost ball and mallet. She explained how Sinclair had abandoned her sister to search for the ball herself. It was deep in the weeds, and she had lost time trying to search for it. Evelyn explained how her sister was embarrassed by Sinclair’s abandonment and hence the reason for her delay. It was the most Evelyn has ever talked in front of a group of people before. Many who she wasn’t acquainted with. However, Evelyn wasn’t herself—she was Charlotte for the afternoon.

  Throughout the rest of the day, Charlie sat in a daze, replaying the touch of Sinclair’s lips on her own. His taste, his scent, his arms clutching her tight. She kept placing her fingers on her lips. Sinclair never rejoined them. She wondered if he would be at dinner. Evelyn kept her worried gaze upon her and tried to draw her into the conversations. However, Charlie stayed silent. It would appear the sisters did more than trade dresses for the afternoon. They changed personalities too.

  Chapter Seven

  For the past two days, Sinclair had made himself scarce. He joined the other guests for meals and the occasional discussions with the gentlemen over hunting, politics, and horses. However, he avoided the matchmaking activities and Charlotte at every opportunity. Not that the miss tried to seek his attention. No, she avoided him too. Though, her eyes betrayed that. Jasper would find her staring at him from afar. And he was aware of this because his gaze never wandered far from her. Charlie’s gaze would skirt away whenever their eyes collided. Then there were his foolish thoughts. Jasper kept remembering their kiss. The simple kiss that awoke the need to make her his. An act that confused him, yet made him yearn to discover the depth of their desire.

  Jasper thought if he stayed he could pretend indifference, but whenever another gentleman paid any attention toward Charlie, all he saw was green. Even if she only returned their kindness with a polite indifference, he still wanted her attention directed his way. Which she never would, because he avoided her at all costs. However, if any gentlemen continued a conversation with her for an obscene amount of time, he would interrupt them. Then he would draw the gentleman away from Charlie into another discussion.

  Even now he wanted to interject himself in the conversation she held with Worthington. They were discussing horses, a topic Charlie would spend hours talking about. Worthington treated her as an equal in the discussion, which was the reason for their constant interaction during this affair. When Gray joined his cousin, something he said drew a blush across Charlie’s cheeks and a smile of victory across Worthington’s. The bounder made a comment and Charlie’s blush grew rosier.

  When the three of them disappeared out the door, Sinclair followed. Staying at a discreet distance, he kept close. When they disappeared into the stables, Sinclair stopped. He didn’t need to continue to know they were going to visit Sapphire. What other reason would they have to visit the stables? He hung back in the shadows to wait for them. Sinclair reasoned to himself that he only waited to make sure Worthington didn’t step out of line. He leaned against the stable, waiting, when he noticed someone sneaking in the shadows. He stepped around the side of the barn to see the figure struggling to stay hidden, constantly tugging her dress higher while walking at a hurried pace. When she drew closer, Sinclair’s curiosity was appeased. Evelyn paused outside the doors, catching her breath and straightening her gown.

  Sinclair’s gaze narrowed when he took in the dress and the style of her hair. During dinner, Evelyn had worn a blue muslin with ribbons woven through her hair. Now she wore the same shade of dress as her sister, and her hair lay loose around her shoulders. What game did she play? No, what game did the sisters play? Evelyn glanced around to make sure no one saw her sneaking inside. Sinclair waited for a few seconds before he followed Evelyn, sticking to the darkness. Evelyn slipped inside an empty stall, and before long he heard the familiar whistle the twins would use to communicate with each other. Sinclair only held knowledge of this quirk after spending time with Charlotte learning about the duke’s breeding program. Whenever Evelyn needed Charlie’s attention she would mimic the whistle of a robin. Then Charlie would make her excuses to leave. Only this time the whistle was used for a distraction.

  Sinclair watched the two women switch places so effortlessly that he wondered if he had ever been duped by them before. Charlie slid inside the stall with an excuse to grab a brush, and Evelyn exited with the brush held in her hand. When Evelyn approached Worthington and Gray, she accidently dropped the brush, keeping her distance from Sapphire. Sure, Worthington was a dimwit they could play false, but did they believe they would fool Gray? While Charlie was a natural around horses, they made Evelyn nervous.

  Evelyn and Worthington bent over at the same time to retrieve the brush, and their heads bounced off each other. Evelyn giggled softly. Worthington’s hands reached out and steadied Evelyn, smiling charmingly at her. Did he not realize the difference in the ladies’ laughter? The softness of Evelyn’s compared to the throaty one of Charlie’s. Yes, the man was a dim-witted fool who didn’t see the differences between the two. And that was what the twins played upon. But why?

  Gray suggested that the party return to the house and turned to leave. Sinclair pressed deeper into the darkness. Evelyn smiled dreamily at Worthington, and he slid her arm into the crook of his, leading them back to the house. Their steps grew slower behind Gray’s. For a moment it appeared as if Worthington meant to kiss Evelyn. Then Gray called over his shoulder for them to hurry along, breaking the moment.

  A sigh behind him drew his attention to Charlie. She leaned smiling against the stall opening, watching her sister. Charlie retrieved the brush off the stool and stroked the bristles against Sapphire’s coat. With each gentle movement, she whispered her thoughts out loud to the horse.

  “While I find the man an absolute boar, Evelyn loves him.”

  Sapphire humphed, if horses could humph.

  “’Tis true, Sapphire. And I know we play him false, with switching identities, but you should see the change in Evelyn. Worthington draws Evelyn out of her shell.”

  Sapphire snickered in agreement. That was, if horses could agree.

  “It is only for a few more days, then she will tell him the truth after the ball. So bear with her until then. I promise you, I will make it worth your while.”

  Sinclair had moved closer. “And how will you make it worth my while to keep your secret?”

  Charlie paused with the brush hanging in the air mid-stroke. She closed her eyes, savoring his nearness. The heat of Sinclair invaded her senses. After two days of Sinclair avoiding her, she wanted to throw herself in his arms. She missed him. However, his comment kept her facing away. They had fooled everyone else. Why not him? His comment should scare her, however the seductive question washed over Charlotte, tempting her to wonder if Sinclair felt the same attraction toward her.

  Charlie slowly turned around to face Sinclair. Her breath hitched at the desire gleaming in his eyes. They spoke of a passion she wanted to explore. But they also held a determination that set her off balance. When she took a step back, Sinclair took a step forward until Charlie hit the wall.

  “Well, Charlie?”

  Charlie gulped. “Well what?”

  “How will you keep my silence on Evelyn and your deception?”

  Sinclair brushed the hair off her cheeks. The singe traveled to the tips of her toes. Could she be so bold to suggest what she desired
? Would he think her too forward? When his fingers trailed down her neck, Charlie's confidence grew.

  “Why, Lord Sinclair, you're suggesting something most scandalous?”

  “I have suggested nothing, my dear. However, it would appear your thoughts are running toward a scandalous nature.”

  A blush stole across Charlie’s cheeks.

  “No, I um ...” Charlie stammered.

  “What did he say to you to make you blush?” Sinclair demanded.

  Sinclair’s change in the conversation confused Charlie. One second she was becoming that muddled pool of confusion around him with his sensuous words, the next he acted the jealous suitor.

  “Who?”

  “Worthington,” Sinclair growled.

  “When?”

  “In the parlor, before you came outside.”

  “I did not blush.”

  “I saw you.”

  “You were watching me?” Charlie tilted her head to the side.

  “What did he say?”

  Charlie blew out a breath and mumbled, “He said the sparkle in my eyes was like a thousand twinkling stars shining down on him.”

  Jasper scoffed, “That rubbish made you blush?”

  “It was not rubbish, it was poetic.”

  “Did that work on you?”

  “Perhaps it did.”

  “No, I do not think so. You blushed, not because it flattered you, but his attention embarrassed you.”

  “Nonsense. I find Lord Worthington’s attention charming.”

  “No, those soft words would make Evelyn swoon. But no, my dear, that compliment did nothing for you. You need to hear the fire of passion as it consumes your soul. You do not need words to make you blush, but you need the simple touch of a man who lights that fire. The kiss from a man who builds the flame higher until it consumes the very air you breathe. No words will do. Only the whirlwind of an emotion that can never be explained. Then and only then will you blush. Not from pure maidenhood, but from the pleasure of being a woman.”