“My sympathies.” A slow smile crept over Snowly’s face. “There are bound to be a lot of restless gentlemen with such lovely females about to tempt our dreams.” He cast a wicked look at Charlotte, indicating exactly whom he was referring to with that comment.
“Indeed.” If Francis had a pistol, he likely would have shot the cur right then and there. Maybe he was more of a rogue than he had first suspected. “Perhaps we shall all fare better this evening.”
“Perhaps.” Snowly glanced back at Charlotte once again and Francis could have sworn the man licked his lips in anticipation as he did so.
Francis frowned, noticing the way the man sat in the saddle, so at ease and seemingly without pain. Was it not just yesterday that he was hobbling about? Last night that he was propped up in that ridiculous chair as all of the ladies at the party paid him court as if he were some kind of king? “I say, Snowly, you are looking much improved this morning. Your knees must be well enough to ride.” It was not a question.
“They are,” the earl replied, still looking just as smug as he had. “Only a brief bit of pain.” He looked pointedly at the walking stick attached to Francis’ saddle. “Hardly a long-term sort of injury as some gentleman suffer from, and for that I am thankful. Would hate to be reliant on a cane of any sort for the rest of my life, not knowing when my injury might plague me out of nowhere.”
Francis knew exactly what the other man was referring to, of course – Francis’ bad leg. When he had first returned to London, Francis had used his cane almost constantly, the sensation of pins shooting through his leg almost unbearable some days. Over time, however, the pain had faded, leaving Dr. Hastings to decided that Francis’ leg injury was an old one and he had likely aggravated it during the incident that had cost him his memory as well.
These days, Francis used his cane very little, instead opting for a more stylish walking stick so he would not appear completely out of place within the beau monde. His walking stick, however, was by his side constantly, just in case. For since he had no idea how he had come to injure his leg or even what sort of injury he had sustained, he also had no idea what might set off those sharp, shooting pains at any moment. In Francis’ opinion, it was better not to take chances.
“That is good to hear.” Except that it wasn’t. Francis would have preferred Snowly’s leg never recover. Or perhaps the earl’s leg could simply fall off from disease or some such, thus making him less attractive to Charlotte. All of which meant that maybe Francis was not so good and kind as he imagined after all. Especially if he was having those thoughts, though Francis refused to allow the idea to trouble him overmuch.
“It is good news.” Snowly grinned again and inside, Francis silently seethed with anger. “Now if you will excuse us, Lady Charlotte and I are riding out to see the Roman ruins. I am told they are fascinating and we had such a lively discussion about them over breakfast that we both decided we had to see them today, the threat of rain hanging about or not.”
Somehow, Francis doubted that Charlotte was in a great rush to see any moldy, old stones. He had offered to take her to visit the rather extensive Roman ruins at Seldon Park last summer during the Bloody Duke’s annual house party. She had declined, saying that it would be improper to be alone with him for so long. She had even declined to make the visit with a large group of partygoers that had decided they simply must see the celebrated Seldon Park ruins for themselves. She had informed Francis then that she had no interest in the ruins at all, calling them very specifically “moldy old stones.” Given all of that, Charlotte should not be out here – especially alone – with Snowly.
Except that she was here and she seemed to be enjoying herself. To some degree anyway. Though she was clearly not pleased to see Francis at all. It was also clear from the mulish expression on her face that Francis’ intrusion into her outing with the earl would not be welcomed. Or even tolerated.
Rather, Francis had the distinct impression that Charlotte was out here alone with the earl simply to spite Francis himself. Very well. If that was the game she wished to play, then so be it. He was tired of her games, of her running hot and cold on him at a moment’s notice. If Snowly was her choice, then she was damn bloody well welcome to him. And if the earl debauched her? That was her problem. It would not be his.
“Then you two should be on your way.” Francis gestured to the sky. “I am told that the clement weather will not hold much longer. Or so Dr. Longford says.”
“Then we shall be off!” Snowly cried a bit too enthusiastically. “My lady, you first.”
“It would be a pleasure, Lord Snowly. Thank you.” Those were the first words Charlotte had spoken since she had indicated she was well when they first arrived in the clearing. Then she was gone, urging her mount into a rather fast trot toward a path on the far side of the clearing that Francis had not noticed before. Presumably, that path led to the ruins.
With a grin that indicated exactly what sort of pleasure he would like to find with Charlotte, the earl took off after her leaving Francis in the clearing – and in a far worse mood than when he had begun his day. He hadn’t thought that was possible. Sadly, it seemed that it was.
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Silently fuming, Charlotte allowed her mount to pick its way along the narrow path without much guidance from her. After all, this horse likely knew the path to the ruins far better than she did and was probably far more clear-headed about this endeavor at the moment.
How dare Francis follow her and Noah to the ruins! Especially after the way they had parted last evening!
Except that he really hadn’t followed them, she admitted to herself. His horse had been gone from the stables long before she and Noah had even made the decision to ride out together. Charlotte had overheard two of the grooms discussing Mercury’s rather foul temperament as they had saddled her mare. Francis had also been in the clearing long before they had arrived, likely speaking with Dr. Longford, for she and Snowly had passed the physician – who had mentioned that he was returning to Havenhurst – on their journey toward the clearing.
Which meant that Francis had been out here first – and Noah had likely known it somehow or at least guessed. Which was probably why Noah had suggested this trip to the ruins in the first place, as a ploy to spite his rival. That was why she was here, after all – to spite Francis and, through her actions, let him know that he did not control her and she could do as she pleased. Just as Noah had likely brought her here to annoy Francis even further as the two men seemed to be in a competition over her – and Noah seemed very determined to win. And she was the prize he wished to capture.
Charlotte wasn’t certain how she felt about that.
Or perhaps she was reading entirely too much into the whole situation, and Noah hadn’t known that Francis would be in this blasted field. In either case, however, Noah had attempted to goad Francis into a display of temper just now. He had not succeeded, though that spoke more to Francis’ character than to Noah’s.
She should be cross with the earl for his behavior, but she wasn’t. She was, however weary for she had not slept well last night either and it had nothing to do with the storms that had rumbled across the estate. Rather than sleeping, she had been thinking of Francis. In fact, he was all she could think about.
Charlotte had remembered the way he kissed her so passionately and the way his lips tasted, sweet like the most exotic of wines. She thought of the way he held her so very tightly against him, allowing her to feel the proof of his desire but not pushing her farther than she was comfortable with. She also thought of all they had shared over the last year and had begun to wonder if she, too, did not bear some of the blame for the current state of their courtship.
After all, she could have told Francis about her father. She still could, and probably should have long before now. In truth, Charlotte had suspected her sire was planning something like this for several months now. She hadn’t said a word to Francis, the man sh
e was supposed to entrust with such concerns, the man she cared for deeply. Rather, she had kept silent. Instead, if Francis even bought up the subject of her father, Charlotte changed the topic of conversation rather quickly.
She was still doing so. And that was her fault. Not his.
Charlotte also recognized that perhaps she could have understood Francis’ hesitation to wed a little better. She knew he worried about his unknown past. That was natural and even though nothing troubling had turned up yet, she knew that the Bloody Duke was still looking into the history of the man Francis had once been. If she hadn’t felt the pressure from her father to wed, perhaps Charlotte would have understood better and been a bit more patient. But she hadn’t and now she was forced to live with the consequences.
However one of the consequences was her newfound courtship with Noah and Charlotte wasn’t at all certain that was a bad thing. Especially if he kissed the way Francis did. Which she didn’t know, as she had not kissed Noah yet, though the idea of doing so was tantalizing – and just a little bit shameful. She was not some lightskirt, after all, free with her body and her affections.
“We are almost there,” Noah replied from somewhere behind her on the narrow path and she was careful to allow Daisychain, her docile mare, her head. “Only a few more paces I should think.”
Charlotte was about to question just how “near” these ruins were when the horses finally broke free of the forest and emerged into a flower-strewn meadow. “Oh, Noah! This is stunning! Truly!” She also quickly changed her mind about the appeal of “moldy old stones” as she had once referred to ancient ruins in general.
In truth, Charlotte had never seen anything like the small amphitheater that spread out before them, nearly filling the clearing. Though most of the structure was tumbledown now, enough remained that she could easily imagine Roman invaders passing pleasant nights here being entertained by a play, pretty women by their sides. Oh, she knew that was a highly romanticized – and likely quite tame – version of what had transpired on this site, but it was a pleasant thought and much preferable to what had likely actually taken place on these tightly stacked stones.
“Isn’t it?” Noah asked as he slid off of his horse quickly so that he could help Charlotte dismount as well. “I know all manner of ill things probably happened here but I prefer to imagine more pleasant times spent in this spot.” He flashed her that slightly cocky grin she was coming to know rather well.
“As do I,” she replied, walked over to what might have once been an entrance on the side of the still-massive half circle of terraced stones. She pointed to a large, flat surface that had probably served as the stage. “Though I hardly think Shakespeare was performed here.”
Noah took her hand in his and Charlotte wanted to rebuke him for his boldness, but his touch felt so nice that she allowed the transgression to pass. “He should have been. The man is a master of the written word.”
Charlotte would not go quite that far, but she simply nodded in agreement, not wishing to engage in a debate about the quality of the man’s plays. “I can picture it now,” she said instead, allowing Noah to tug her along behind him as he traipsed over the stones.
She also could not help but think that Francis would have enjoyed seeing this, for he had a genuine love of the ancient world, including all things both Greek and Roman. Perhaps she would bring him here some time. Or perhaps not, for it might be awkward bringing him here while Noah was still about and she doubted that she would return to Fullbridge’s estate again once she departed in a few days time.
Together they explored every inch of the area, laughing together at a pair of hedgehogs waddling around the far edge of the seating area looking for food and quietly mourning a statue of what had likely been a Roman god or goddess now worn away by time. When Noah reached for her hand again, Charlotte allowed him to take it. When he insisted on helping her over a rock in the pathway, she granted him that right.
Noah was touching her far more than he should have been, more than was proper, but then, if he did not, how else was Charlotte to learn if she could tolerate him as a husband? This was supposed to be a time of discovery. For the moment, she was to view herself as unattached, so she would. After all, she was the one who had wanted this time apart. Hadn’t she? Francis had simply been enough of a gentleman to grant her request. Or rather demand, for she hadn’t given him much choice in the matter, really.
Eventually, Noah led them around the far side of the stage and toward two ancient columns, the only things remaining upright in the entire amphitheater. When he slowed, so did she, content for a moment simply to breathe in the clean air, so unlike London in the spring with its thick clog of smoke that often blocked out the sun because it was so thick and murky.
When Noah maneuvered Charlotte so that her back was to one of the columns, she did not protest. Nor did she protest when he removed his gloves and then hers. Or when he cupped her face in his hands. She knew he meant to kiss her and she was going to allow it. That was the point of discovery, was it not? No matter how disloyal to Francis it made her feel.
“Two days, love,” Noah whispered as he brought his forehead to meet hers. “Two more days before this delightful interlude ends.”
“I know.” Charlotte gazed up at him, halfway expecting to see turquoise eyes and instead was met by ones so dark they were almost black. “I feel as if I have just arrived and now it is almost time to leave.”
Noah stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb, though she did not feel the rush of desire she had imagined, not the way she did when Francis touched her. “Time to make a decision, you mean.” He chuckled. “And we have not yet even kissed, so how am I to compare to a man I know you have likely kissed before? That hardly seems fair, does it not?”
Charlotte shook her head as her breath hitched. She was playing with fire and risking her reputation. She should stop. But she wouldn’t. “No, it does not.” Around them, time seemed to still but not stop as it did when Francis touched her. Not as it had yesterday morning behind the hedgerow when she had all but burst into flames in his embrace.
“Then allow me the chance to prove myself, my lady. I think you should have a fair comparison.” Noah’s eyes were hooded and she could see the desire in them. When he shifted, Charlotte could feel the evidence of that same desire against her leg.
Except that this wasn’t right and she knew it down to her very soul. She had kissed Francis yesterday. A lady of good breeding was not so free with her kisses. Except that Noah was right, too. In two days time, she had to choose. How could she do that if she did not know what it felt like to kiss this man? What if kissing him was terrible?
It wasn’t terrible.
Noah hadn’t waited for her consent. Instead, he bent down and captured her lips with his, demanding her surrender much as Francis had the night before. The minute his lips touched hers, Charlotte felt as if she had betrayed Francis by allowing Noah to kiss here. Then she was swept away by the sheer power of the kiss and forgot that she should not be doing this.
If nothing else, Noah kissed divinely. His lips were warm and firm, his hand sliding behind her to cup the back of her head, holding her securely to him – as if she had a prayer of pulling away. Her knees buckled and when she gasped in fear, he slid his tongue inside of her mouth to kiss her deeply. His taste was sweet and a bit minty and Charlotte felt as if she was falling into a dark hole of madness.
“Steady on, love,” he whispered in her ear as she reached up to clutch tightly at his shoulders. “I should think that I have proven my worth to you by that reaction.”
“You have,” she sighed into his mouth as he kissed her again.
Charlotte had no idea how much time had passed from the time the kiss began until Noah finally pulled away, his chest heaving just as hard as hers was. She vaguely noted that the sun was growing dim when earlier, the entire meadow had been bathed in golden light. All she knew was that she was more confused now than she had been before, which was not a
good thing.
She had hoped kissing Noah would give her more clarity. Not less.
“There is more where that came from, love,” Noah teased, stroking his fingers down her cheek. “We could be good together, Charlotte. We could be what my uncle needs. I could be the lover you did not even know you wanted.”
Something in her cooled abruptly at his words. “You know of your uncle’s plans, then?”
“Of course.” He smiled at her, his eyes still filled with desire. “Remember? I knew who you were the other night. I assumed you understood that. There is very little that my uncle keeps from me. Especially not something as important as the future of the dukedom.”
Charlotte swallowed hard. “I…I misunderstood.”
Noah must have sensed that she wanted to run for he backed her up against the column a little more tightly. “You would not have to marry him, love. Although I know what my uncle plans, there are ways to thwart him in that desire. If I am your choice, then I will be your husband. Your lover. The father of your child. Not my uncle. Trust me.”
She noted that he did not say how he planned to accomplish this and perhaps he did not know yet. Or perhaps it didn’t matter just then either. “And you would…”
Noah lay a hand on her stomach, quieting her. “I would be the man to plant a babe in your belly. You would never have to lay with my uncle. Not even once.” He smiled at her again. “And we would both have what we desire.”
Except that he didn’t really know what she desired for neither did Charlotte herself. However, she could easily guess what Noah desired – a direct path to the dukedom and all that came with the title. “My father has plans for you if that is the case. That is why I came here in the first place, to warn you. He needs money. He plans to make you…”
Noah placed a finger to her lips. “Hush. I know that your father will likely demand something of me, likely try to force me to provide funds and attempt to murder me if I do not.”
A Lady to Desire Page 15
