What Not to Bare

by Megan Frampton

  The Fashionable Foible

  Chapter 24

  David leaned against the door through which she’d just exited. He couldn’t believe they’d just done everything they’d just done, and he was even more astonished to discover that he already knew it wasn’t enough.

  He wanted her. Yes, in a sexual way, but also in a partnered way; he wanted her by his side, helping him with things, wearing clothing that made him wince, asking him questions until his head exploded.

  What the hell was he going to do?

  Her uncle had made it very clear that David was not to pay any more attention to her, and he knew that his position in India was not one to which he could bring a woman, a wife—even someone as adventurous as Charlotte. Providing he even got the chance to return to his position in the first place, once Lord Bradford realized David was truly interested in Charlotte.

  The woman against whom Lord Bradford had specially warned him.

  So his choices were to stay in London and really court Charlotte, provided he could convince her he wanted to stay, or return to India never having gotten the chance to tell her how he felt.

  He could either leave his heart forever in India when he stayed here, or leave his heart forever in London when he returned to his position.

  He sighed, and then realized he was still entirely naked. Not something Gotam would soon forget, or stop reminding him of. That, at least, allowed for an easy decision.

  He found his clothing in the salon and dressed quickly. He was attending yet another party tonight, for the purposes of being respectable, only all he really wanted to do was to see Charlotte. To see what ludicrous clothing she had on, and catch her eye as someone said something ridiculous, and get the chance to dance with her.

  Possibly lure her onto another terrace.

  He threw his cravat around his neck, then paused as he saw something lying on the carpet, just under the chair she’d been sitting in.

  He bent to retrieve it, and his breath caught. Her stocking. One of those garish, flimsy, lovely stockings with the pink bow, now carelessly untied.

  He stuck it in his jacket pocket, but not before holding it to his face and breathing in her scent.

  Damn it. He’d done it. Just what he’d thought would never happen.

  He’d fallen in love with the Abomination.

  ***

  “You seem distracted this evening,” Gotam said as he held David’s jacket up for him. “Your afternoon activities … did they tire you out?” he said with a pointed lift of his eyebrow.

  David shook his head. “I don’t wish to discuss it.”

  Gotam paused, and his mocking eyebrow lowered. “That bad, hm? You know, all joking aside, you can tell me if you wish.” His tone told David he was serious.

  David shrugged. “There’s not much to say, except that I seem to have fallen in love with her.”

  There was no question who the her was.

  Gotam’s eyebrows shot up again. “My goodness. And what are you going to do about it?” He still held David’s jacket aloft, his valeting duties forgotten.

  “What can I do? It’s either stay in London with Charlotte and be miserable because I am not working, or return to India without her and be miserable because I am without her.”

  “The course of true love never did run smooth,” Gotam said, sounding as wise as though he’d thought of the words himself.

  “Quoting Shakespeare does nothing except show me just how acclimated you’ve gotten to life here. There’s no solution.”

  “Have you asked the lady if she would like to return to India with you? Provided, of course, it is marriage you have in mind.” Gotam moved to draw David’s jacket on, only to be halted again by the sight of David’s face.

  “Of course it’s marriage! Did you forget the part where I said I had fallen in love with her?”

  Gotam nodded, his normal mischievous expression replaced with something much more somber. “The question remains: Have you gauged whether or not she would be amenable to returning with us to India?”

  At last David got that damned jacket on. Gotam immediately began to straighten and smooth some invisible wrinkles on the sleeves. “Her uncle said she wouldn’t, but knowing Charlotte as I do, I highly doubt that. It’s more likely they would not wish her to go. Which again, could I ask her to leave her family to come with me to a place so far away?”

  Gotam stepped back to admire his handiwork and gave a small, satisfied smile. “You sound like a lady from a melodrama. So worried about what someone else might think that they don’t do what they wish to. In the end, the best solution is always to express yourself honestly and just ask.”

  “So your advice is just ask? And … and what if she says no?”

  Gotam’s usual mocking expression returned to his face. “Say no to Mr. Gorgeous?”

  David didn’t bother to reply. He shook his head, picked his hat up, and walked out to the door, not deigning to give Gotam another look.

  But of course Gotam’s words rang in his head. Just ask. It sounded so simple, and yet had so many ramifications.

  But he would never know if he didn’t.

  So this time he would be asking the question.

  He just hoped he would get an answer that wouldn’t doom them both to misery for the rest of their lives.

  ***

  The first person he saw was not the person he most wished to see. In fact, one could safely say it was the last person he wanted to see.

  “Lord David, how are you?” Louise’s voice, which he used to think was seductive, now just sounded as though she were trying too hard.

  “Excellent, thank you. And you?” David replied, not wanting to know the answer, but not finding it possible to be completely rude to her.

  It wasn’t her fault that he had no interest in continuing their affair and had, in fact, fallen in love with another woman. A woman no one could look at and possibly think was more lovely than Louise.

  Except for David.

  Perhaps he would save that compliment as well. I am so in love with you I even find you more beautiful than a woman who is obviously more beautiful than you are. He might prefer comparing the color of her eyes to horses’ hides, in fact.

  “I am wonderful,” she said in a tone that sent a prickle down his spine. It sounded as though she knew something, something unpleasant that he would soon know as well.

  “Lord David, I did not know you knew the Davenhams.” Lord Charles joined their group, and David realized that Louise was not the last person he wished to see after all. Only the penultimate.

  “Yes, they were kind enough to invite me. Their party was the first I attended when I returned to London, in fact,” David said. The party where he met her and was told—ordered—to pay attention to her.

  “It is a shame their daughters are so …,” Louise said, her words trailing off as one of the Davenham daughters walked by. How had he not noticed before she was so cruel?

  “Ah, there is Lady Charlotte. Who could miss her?” Now her voice definitely held a malicious tone.

  But David didn’t care. Because it was her, in her ridiculous, loathsome clothing. Which he didn’t see because he was too engrossed with looking at her face, at her lively, curious expression, at how she glanced around the room with such energy.

  And how she looked when she met his gaze. It made him wish to rush to her side, to declare how he felt in front of everybody and make her his forever and ever this very minute.

  He’d never been that impetuous before. Or impetuous ever, actually.

  But rushing to her side and declaring his feelings in front of everybody would only make any possible scandal that much more probable. And he knew enough to know that causing scandal of any sort would not help in the asking of things and the answering of other things.

  So he stood where he was, mentally urging her to join them, even though he knew she did not like two of the three people there. Him he was fairly certain she liked.

  “Good evening,
” she said as she joined them. She met his eyes for longer than politeness required, and he saw her cheeks begin to pinken.

  Presumably she was recalling what had happened between them that afternoon, because if she was not thinking about it, then he was the only one of the two of them who had not been able to stop thinking about it since it happened.

  And he highly doubted that, especially with how her pink cheeks had deepened to rose.

  “Lady Charlotte, may I have the first dance?” he asked.

  “Oh, but you are promised to me for the first dance, don’t you recall?” Louise said.

  He couldn’t very well deny her, even though they both knew perfectly well he had not asked her to dance.

  “Of course. The second, then, Lady Charlotte?”

  Charlotte’s eyes had narrowed, and he hoped she wasn’t about to challenge Louise on the dance assertion. No scandal, no scandal, no scandal, he chanted in his head. That would not help whatever was in their future.

  Finally she seemed to settle herself and nodded. “The second dance will be lovely, thank you.”

  “Oh, Charlotte! I was hoping you would be here.” Lady Anne gave a quick, knowing smile to David and tight smiles to her brother and Louise.

  “The Davenhams appear to have invited everyone in their attempt to get their daughters married.” Lord Charles had such a condescending tone in his voice, David wanted to punch him. No scandal, he reminded himself. Punching Lord Charles would land him squarely in the scandal arena.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t thrown your hat in the ring, Charles,” Lady Anne said in a sharp retort. “The oldest girl, Lavinia, is very pleasant.”

  “Not pleasant enough for me to overlook—” He caught himself before he said any more. David was reconsidering that punching thing, given what an arse Charles was.

  “Since we know that Lord David is otherwise engaged for the first dance, Lady Charlotte, may I claim it?”

  Charlotte nodded. “Of course, it would be a pleasure,” she replied in a voice that indicated it was anything but.

  “Anne, our mother might need some company, and it appears you are not yet claimed for this dance.”

  David’s fists were clenching in preparation.

  Thankfully the music began before he could do something really scandalous.

  ***

  She’d thought David was actually going to do something violent to Charles. His eyes had darkened, and his nostrils had actually seemed to flare, which wasn’t something she’d seen in real life before; she’d only encountered flaring nostrils in some of the tawdry novels she read. It looked as dangerous as it had sounded.

  Charles led her onto the dance floor and drew her into his arms. Not tightly, thank goodness, but his very proximity was unpleasant enough.

  Made even more unpleasant when he spoke.

  “I know about you.”

  “Know what?” Dear Lord, if he knew that she had been writhing about naked on a carpet with an equally naked David … well, that would be a problem.

  “The column. I know you write that column, ‘What Not to Bare.’ ”

  She nearly sighed in relief that he didn’t know about the naked writhing, but then the impact of what he did know hit her square in the chest. Her lungs, specifically, since she appeared to have lost her breath.

  She didn’t bother denying it; his confident expression and certain tone of voice told her he did know, absolutely.

  “How?”

  “My sister.” At her gasp, he continued, waving the hand that was on her back. “Not that she told me directly. She is far too loyal for that,” he said, making it sound as though being loyal was an insult. “But she is also prone to forgetting to put her papers away. The fact remains that I know, and one of your recent columns very much implied some activity with a certain gentleman. I am sure you know which one?”

  “Which one what? The column or the gentleman?”

  He rolled his eyes at her obtuseness. She really was honestly confused, but he seemed to think she was being deliberately muddled.

  “The gentleman,” he said through tight lips. “Lord David. And with your unfortunate nickname, it would only be a matter of moments before the entire world knew of the scandal.”

  “Not the entire world, surely,” she pointed out. “By the entire world you mean the very small society in which we circulate. Not the world as in Australia, or the Americas, or … or India,” she finished.

  “The only world that matters, then.” His tone made it clear he did not like having to make the clarification.

  “Well. So what do you plan to do with your information?”

  “Nothing,” he said. Her chest nearly returned to normal, until he added, “If you agree to marry me.”

  At that, she stopped in the middle of the dance floor. “What did you say?”

  He glanced around and pulled her back into his arms, his feet moving again, which forced her to move as well. “Marry me. You need a husband, I need a wife.”

  “With a fortune,” she spat out.

  “And this helps everyone.”

  She deliberately stepped on his foot and enjoyed the brief grimace of pain on his face. “It does not help me, because I will not marry you.”

  “Are you so certain? What would your lord David say if he knew you were wishing he were naked?”

  She wished she could just tell him that any woman who looked at Lord David likely wanted the same thing, but she didn’t want to cavil anymore than she had to. She’d already irritated him enough.

  “It does not matter,” she replied in as firm a voice as she could muster. Because David was returning to India, and scandal would plague her here, and meanwhile she’d been able to be explore all sorts of things with him, and she was happy about that.

  She was. Entirely happy.

  “So you won’t mind when I let everyone know that it’s you who has been authoring that column?”

  Charlotte couldn’t help herself; she rolled her eyes at him. “It is not as though it is an enormous scandal that a young lady has been writing a fashion column, of all things. It is not as though I have been comparing the statues in the museum to a living man,” she said, even though she actually had been considering that for her next column. “Besides, I already have a dubious reputation, thanks to the nickname you came up with for me.”

  “You will not marry me?” He sounded incredulous, as though the prospect of permanent ruin was worse than permanent misery.

  “I will not.”

  He paused this time, causing another couple to bump into them. The gentleman of the pair glared at Charles. It appeared others shared her opinion of him.

  “You will not?” he repeated, as though he couldn’t believe what she’d said. As though his words would strike her, and she would suddenly decide that oh, of course, she meant to say yes when she’d said no.

  “No, I will not marry you,” she said, just in case he didn’t understand her. Which it now appeared he did, as his mouth had opened wide in a totally astonished way.

  “Then I will have no choice.”

  Which was the most idiotic thing she had ever heard, because of course he had a choice, and he was choosing to cause scandal.

  “Fine.” She walked off the dance floor, flinging her shoulders back and trying to keep her spine as straight as possible, so she wouldn’t show how much she was trembling.

  She returned to where she’d been standing, and to him.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. Of course, he’d noticed.

  “Fine.” She was saying “fine” a lot, even though things were anything but.

  “This is our dance.” He sounded almost tender as he spoke, and it made her feel trembly inside, as well, but not a bad trembly.

  Should she tell him? Although, what would she tell him? Even though my nickname is the Abomination because of what I wear, I am writing a fashion column, and much of what I’ve written about has been things I’ve learned from you, so you see, my questions haven
’t been entirely innocent.

  No. She would not tell him, not right now, at least. She just wanted to enjoy this dance before whatever was going to happen happened.

  If that meant she was a coward, then she was a coward. But a coward who was going to dance with the handsomest man in the world. So that was worth it.

  The music began, and he took her into his arms, holding her substantially closer than Charles had. Of course, she had no complaints. He smiled down at her, those gorgeous, lake-blue eyes filled with knowledge, it seemed to her. Knowledge of what she looked like naked, what she tasted like, and all those other things that she could barely express in her mind.

  Which reminded her. She did still have some questions, even though … well, after Charles spoke, she might not have the chance to speak with him again, not without dragging her mantle of scandal along with her.

  “I know it is called a penis,” she began, keeping her voice low. “But there must be other names for it, aren’t there?”

  He staggered and stepped right on her foot, before righting himself and staring off with a determined expression over her shoulder. There was a vast and heavy silence between them. Not in the room, of course; the music was still playing, it would be odd if the whole world—as defined by Charles—stopped just because she’d asked something so totally inappropriate in public.

  To be fair, she had lowered her voice.

  “I did tell you to ask me anything,” he muttered. “I will answer your question later. When we are alone.”

  “But we might—,” she began, but didn’t want to explain why they might never be able to be alone together again.

  Stupid Charles. She had more questions, and she had lost the taste for asking anyone but David, who was soon going to be forced to cut her, even if she knew he did not want to. That was the way the world—Charles’s whole world—worked. And like it or not, David was firmly in that world, and needed to stay in it in order to remain feeling useful. Which was his most fervent wish.

  “Fine.”

  They kept dancing, only not speaking, but she did notice he kept glancing at her as though he wished to say something, but then thought better of it.