“Will this ever end?” Charles lamented.
“Yes, now quiet yourself so I may finish. Finally, if what I learned is correct, your Miss Lottie is actually Carlotta Standhope whose father was a baron. Titled, but barely. The information I was able to accumulate on such short notice also spoke of a loss of income that precluded her seeking employment. Rumors had it that she was expecting to go to London for a season next year.”
“A season? Carlotta planned a come out?”
“Yes.”
Charles’ imagination quickly spun into action as he dreamed of watching her enter from across the room. Her golden hair spun up and her pastel colored gown clinging to all her perfect curves. The sound of her bell-like laughter carrying across the room to his waiting ears. She’d glance over and meet his gaze…
“Charles? Now is not the time for your wild imagination.”
“Excuse me?” He shook his head.
“What I’m trying to explain is that your chances at winning the affections of your governess, which I might add, I still have not had the pleasure of meeting, are quite good. This of course is on the assumption that you can woo her properly.”
“I can woo.”
“Yes, her earlier behavior was solid evidence.”
“I—”
“You have no excuse. Now. Will you please introduce me to the woman who has succeeded in tying you in knots? It’s been such a dream of mine. I find myself afraid she doesn’t truly exist.”
“She’ll not want to speak with me at the moment.”
“Because you hurt her.”
“Because she thought I wanted her to be my mistress.”
“Good Lord.”
“I’m assuming that was a prayer?” he retorted, using her earlier words against her.
“It was certainly a prayer for your hopeless soul. Divine intervention is necessary if this is what you call wooing.”
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“Clearly, because I seem to remember you saying you’d not shame her by even asking such a thing… yet if it were a misunderstanding. Why the tears?”
“I, er, well.”
“Good Lord.”
“You are becoming quite pagan in your use of the Lord’s name this day.”
“I’m praying. Believe me, you need it. You didn’t explain yourself did you?”
“I was quite offended that she’d think so low of me—”
“Because your reputation is all sweetness and light, is that correct? Did you ever consider that she knows all about you? Your reputation that is?”
“I assumed yet didn’t think… oh.”
“Oh.” Lady Southridge mimicked.
Charles glared.
“You need to make this right.”
“Your power to state the obvious is astounding. I’m quite breathless with anticipation over the mysteries you’ll unravel with your next words.”
“Don’t mock me. I’m your only hope.”
“Save me.”
“Believe me, your blackened soul is going through its share of penance with what you’ll be needing to undertake to win this girl.”
“How do you know that?” Charles bit back.
“Think—”
A knock sounded at the door, immediately arresting Charles’ attention. For a moment his heart stopped as he thought it just might be Carlotta, but the very thought mocked him. Why would she want to talk with him after his last performance?
“Enter,” Charles called, his tone authoritative. The need to feel in control of something, even as small as someone’s entrance, was overwhelming after the uncertainty of the past few moments with Lady Southridge.
The door didn’t open.
“Enter,” Charles called louder, but he shared a curious glance with Lady Southridge who simply shrugged.
When no one entered, he strode to the door and opened it himself.
“Hello, your grace.” Berty curtsied prettily and batted her dark eyelashes at him.
“Er, hello, Berty.” He stumbled. “What brings you… here?”
“I live here, your grace.”
“Yes, I’m quite aware of that.”
“Then why did you—”
“Why are you knocking on my study door?”
“Oh, well I was hoping to say hello to you, since you haven’t seen us yet.” She beamed at him, one tooth missing from her top row and making her smile almost comical.
“Well, hello, Berty.”
“Hello, your grace.”
Charles wiped his hand down his face. This conversation was going in circles.
Tight circles.
Berty didn’t seem concerned however; she continued to beam at him.
“Berty!” Carlotta’s voice carried down the hall as she strode towards them, her eyes fixed on her young charge. But Charles noticed a becoming blush to her cheeks that wasn’t there a few seconds ago.
“Miss Lottie.” Berty turned and curtseyed, all sweetness and light as if she were not about to get a scolding.
Charles had to hand it to her for being so brave.
Or foolish.
At the moment, he wasn’t in the frame of mind to decide.
Not when his focus kept straying to the lightly pursed lips of Miss Lottie. They were no longer bee stung from his earlier kisses, but their color, the color of his favorite pink roses in his mother’s rose garden, captivated him, stealing all rational thought.
“Berty, you are to be studying with your sisters in the school room. You did not have my permission to leave. And we’ve spoken about his grace’s need for privacy.
“I did give him privacy. I didn’t even go into his study. It’s not allowed and I obeyed. I just waited in the hall.” Berty shrugged.
Carlotta closed her eyes, her exasperation evident. “Be that as it may, you still did not have my permission to leave.”
Berty sagged her shoulders and nodded. “Yes, Miss Lottie.”
“Please excuse us, your grace.” Carlotta spoke without looking at him.
Who knew that the lack of a glance could hurt worse than the worst glare?
Chapter Ten
Carlotta refused to look at him. No good would come from that; all it would do was remind her of his lips, the touch of his hands at the small of her back, the heat from his body as it pressed up against hers while he stole her breath with his kisses.
Yes, it would be a very bad idea indeed.
No, no, no, no…
She glanced up. Betrayed by her own body, her traitorous eyes glanced up at him and immediately her heart shuddered at the blatant heat in his expression.
Heat she knew all too well.
She was still feeling the burn from earlier.
Turning to Berty, she said, “Bid his grace good day, Berty.”
“Good day.” Berty curtseyed, again, then beamed at him, offering the duke a smile that revealed almost all of her little teeth, at least the ones she had not lost recently.
Then it struck her.
Her teeth.
Berty had been so delighted when she finally lost her baby teeth and the fact that she lost the one in front, absolutely overjoyed her. Her sisters teased her that she looked like a pirate, and Berty had basked in their story spinning over the idea.
Berty was still beaming at the duke.
He was staring at her as if he were trying to understand why.
Carlotta’s heart pinched as she felt pity on him for being so out of his element, so she went against her own self-preservation and reached out an olive branch.
She moved slightly so that she was behind Berty, then glancing up she waited till she got the duke’s attention. Quickly, she smiled and pointed to her teeth.
The duke’s brow furrowed for a moment then his countenance lit up, understanding clearly dawning in his mind.
Carlotta held her breath as he bent down to Berty’s level.
“Well, Miss Berty. It seems as if something is amiss. As beautiful as your smile is, it seems to
be missing… something.” He gave her a serious expression as he made a show of studying her teeth.
Carlotta bit her lip to keep her grin in check. Her heart softened, it was times like these when he didn’t even realize how compassionate and kind he was, that it unsettled her the most. It gave her a glimpse into what could never be hers.
Which hurt more than she was willing to admit.
“Do you think, your grace, that I look like an evil pirate?” Berty asked, leaning forward.
“Er, well, I suppose.” He glanced up to Carlotta as if to discern how to answer such a question.
She shrugged.
“I’d have to say yes, you do put me in the mind of a pirate, though perhaps, not an evil one.”
Berty swished her skirts as she swayed. “Thank you, your grace. I better obey Miss Lottie now. Oh! Welcome to Greenford Waters!” She reached out and hugged his neck and then released him abruptly and began skipping down the hall.
The duke had such a look of shock on his face that Carlotta couldn’t contain her bark of laughter. Immediately covering her mouth, it wasn’t quick enough to stave off the bubbling mirth.
The duke stood, offering her a raised eyebrow before she was able to contain herself.
“I say, Charles, what is going on out here?” Lady Southridge walked into the hall, her gaze immediately settling on Carlotta. With a beaming smile, she nudged the duke in the back, her gaze shifting expectantly to him before returning to Carlotta.
“Oh, yes.” The duke cleared his throat and made the introductions. “Lady Southridge? May I introduce you to Miss Carlotta, governess to my three wards.”
Carlotta inwardly winced at the stoic introduction. It was for the best, she knew, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.
But if he wanted her to be his mistress, he had another thing coming. It was best this way.
It had to be.
“Miss Carlotta! I’m so pleased to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!” Lady Southridge gushed, her green eyes warm and inviting, not at all cool and calculating as Carlotta had anticipated.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She curtseyed and took a small step back, feeling as if she should further distinguish between their ranks in society.
“You’re every bit as lovely as Charles said.” Lady Southridge stepped forward.
Carlotta cut a startled glance to the duke who seemed to be very uncomfortable.
She understood his discomfort completely. It mirrored her own emotions.
But she didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him.
“I’m sure his grace was simply being very kind,” she demurred, rapidly searching for a way to escape, one that wouldn’t offend the duke’s guest.
“Oh Charles isn’t one—”
“Miss Lottie was helping locate a wayward young lady, who is now, presumably, back in the school room. I’m sure you’re anxious to attend to her.” The duke offered her the perfect escape.
She nodded and bid her farewells, walking down the hall. Her emotions were a jumbled mix of gratitude and heartache. Gratitude for the duke giving her the perfect escape from an awkward situation, but heartache for the way it was done.
Cursing her oversensitivity, she almost didn’t hear Lady Southridge’s scolding. “Well, if that is how you treat her, no wonder you’re having issues. I am now fully convinced you need my assistance.”
“Bloody—”
“Charles!”
“Hell.”
Carlotta couldn’t help but smile as she walked the rest of the way to the schoolroom. She puzzled over the meaning of Lady Southridge’s words, but more than anything, she delighted in someone telling the great Duke of Clairmont what to do.
It was about time.
****
Later on that afternoon, Tibbs came in to request their presence at dinner. The girls squealed with delight over having a formal dinner rather than their usual quiet meal in the nursery. Noticing the girls’ attention severely lacking, Carlotta quit lessons earlier than usual to allow the girls ample time to ready themselves.
Carlotta helped them dress and enlisted the help of Mary, the maid, to help arrange their hair. By the time Tibbs came into escort them to dinner, Carlotta had scarcely arrived in the nursery, having rushed through readying herself. She chose a deep green gown, one that was simple enough for a governess, but that highlighted the color of her eyes. She went a step further and loosened the prim chignon at the base of her neck so that it was more of a flowing style that softened her features.
More than once she told herself she was taking these steps for herself, not the duke, and that she would have done the same if he was not in residence and instead was having a practice formal dinner with the girls.
But her heart called her mind a liar.
While she would have dressed the same, even done her hair in a similar manner for the practice dinner, the idea wasn’t the same. She wanted to look beautiful, and if she were honest, she wanted him to want her. Even if nothing could come from it, she simply wanted to be wanted. Shaking her head at her own folly, she followed behind Tibbs to the parlor where they were to wait till dinner was served.
Lady Southridge was already waiting. She was a beautiful vision in fine velvet of a deep green that appeared every bit as expensive as it surely was. Her eyes lit up as the girls entered, surprising Carlotta with the warmth in her gaze as she stood and approached the girls.
“My! How lovely you all look tonight! I’m so glad we can have you for our guests!” she gushed. Bethanny blushed and curtsied. “You must be… Bethanny, correct?” Lady Southridge inquired with a smile.
“Yes, my lady.” She demurred perfectly.
“And you are Beatrix?” she asked.
“Yes, M’um.” Beatrix curtsied as well, her face blooming with color.
“I’m Berty! Don’t forget me!” Berty rushed up, gave a precariously deep curtsey, and then beamed up, showing off, again, her lost tooth.
“Oh! It seems that you have lost a tooth! My! You are becoming quite a young lady, aren’t you?” Lady Southridge bent down slightly and caressed Berty’s face in a decidedly motherly fashion.
Carlotta was conflicted. The duke had said that she was more of a maternal figure to him… but was that accurate? Was Lady Southridge’s opinion differing? She surely acted as if she belonged at Greenford Waters, and was taking a marked interest in his wards. Carlotta felt a surge of jealousy she quickly stomped out.
It wasn’t her business.
And if the duke married a woman who would care for the girls, all the better. She refused to give any voice to the raging emotions in her heart, and turned to offer her own warm greetings to Lady Southridge. “How are you this evening, Lady Southridge?”
“Very well! I do love it here. My husband has an estate not too far away, but I do find that Greenford Waters is more to my own personal taste,” she commented, her eyes bright and clear.
Carlotta tried to puzzle piece this information together.
And was failing miserably.
“I’m sure you’re quite welcome here.” Carlotta spoke, trying to maintain her composure in her deep confusion. Thankfully, Lady Southridge turned her attention to Bethanny, questioning her about her age and talking about the London Season.
Carlotta lost herself momentarily in her thoughts even as she kept half an ear on their conversation between the two women. If Lady Southridge was married… then she wouldn’t be pursuing the duke. Carlotta felt a huge burden of relief, but a dark foreboding nipped at the heels of such a release.
What if she were his mistress?
It wasn’t unheard of. In fact, it was quite common for those women of quality who had produced an heir and spare to take their pleasure elsewhere than their husband’s bed.
Suddenly, it all made sense.
No wonder the duke was so cold and harsh when she mentioned a mistress.
He already had one.
But why present her as a parental figure?
It still made no sense.
At that moment, the very man in her thoughts entered the room. His presence filled it, permeating the very air with the power of his person. He scanned the room and when his gaze met hers, she felt the connection like a physical caress. An unwelcome shiver of delight tickled her back and she forced her gaze away. Though she was now watching Berty, she continued to feel his gaze upon her.
“Charles, of course now you show up! Leave it to you to arrive just before we’re called to dine. You really must set a better example,” Lady Southridge chided, her face still lit up in grin.
Her manner towards the duke was even more confusing.
“Lady Southridge, accept my deepest apologies. Allow me to make amends by escorting you to dine.”
Carlotta glanced back to him, assuming he would be looking at Lady Southridge as he spoke to her.
But he wasn’t.
No, he was still gazing intently at Carlotta.
Swallowing compulsively, she glanced down once again.
“If you don’t mind Charles, I would rather be less informal this evening. The girls and I have much to discuss and I’d prefer to keep their company rather than yours. Goodness knows how tedious you can be.” She spoke in a teasing manner.
“Heaven forbid I should subject you to my objectionably tedious manners,” he replied dryly.
“Lovely. Now girls, shall we make our way to the dining room? Now, I’m sure your lovely governess has told you this before, but usually the highest-ranking gentleman will escort the highest-ranking lady to supper. But since we’re dining informal, I’m breaching proper conduct.” She leaned down to fake whisper, “Please keep my indiscretion between yourselves.” She raised an eyebrow till the girls, giggling behind their gloved hands, nodded their obedience.
Carlotta lifted her own hand to cover her wide smile at the antics of Lady Southridge. The woman was a confusing mystery, but regardless, Carlotta found herself rather liking the unconventional woman.
What the Duke Wants Page 13
