"Are you throwing your fortune up in my face again, after you promised you would not?" he demanded.
She shook her head, setting her ear bobs swinging. "It isn't that. It just doesn't make sense. Why me?"
His mouth swooped down on hers, stifling the protest effectively as a downpour of scorching rain.
She bowed her body into his, stretching up into the contact despite all of her reservations. When she was in his arms like this, then everything seemed to make perfect sense.
He lifted his lips a sort while later to at last reply, "Money is useful, but it's not the only thing required for a successful marriage. And some possessions cannot be bought. I'm not sure how to describe this, well, emotion, attraction, between us, but it's there. A spark, a special fire. It's real. I know you feel it too, Charlotte, so don't try to deny it. It's nothing to be ashamed of. And I'm not judging your morals either, so there's no need to frown or look shame-faced." She could feel a blush heat her cheeks, but she would not be such a hypocrite as to deny her strong feelings for the physicality of their relationship.
"The way we respond to each other is wonderful. I would rather have a marriage with a spark, than one with nothing more than polite indifference. Such things are not easily explained, as you know, Charlotte. But I'm sure you feel it just as I do. I can see the light in your eyes, feel the passion in your lips, the quivering anticipation of your slender body," he said in a husky murmur.
She clamped her hand over her still throbbing lips. It was all true...
So true that his words inflamed her to the point where she wasn't sure she could even control herself any longer. Charlotte turned and began to race toward the stairs, fleeing from his candor and the desire she feel burning within her. It was her fault. She had asked for the truth. Why was it so terrifying?
Because she had no control over it. One touch of his hands, lips, and the wildfire sensations flared out of all control.
Thomas breathed a sigh of relief once she had gone. He had almost lost control there. And it would not do for her to ask too many awkward questions. At least not until after they were safely married.
She was quite right too in running back downstairs. It was not a good idea to scandalise her family quite so much as they had with their open displays of heated regard. She might get talked about if they didn't restrain themselves a bit more. At least until after the ceremony, he thought with a grin, as he descended to the dining room.
Jonathan looked at his old friend's face when he entered the dining room a short time later and said they were ready for the rehearsal.
"You know the play The Rehearsal by the Duke of Buckingham, do you not?"
Most nodded and said that they did.
"We performed it once in the officers' mess. It was a most wonderfully funny play. 'Gadzookers, I've lost my peruke,'" Jonathan quipped. "Thomas looks like he's about to lose his wig over Charlotte."
She blushed to the roots of her hair and turned away from Thomas before she did something unseemly once more.
"You're going to lose more than your peruke if you keep waving your fruit knife about in that manner," Clifford joked.
"Why don't we have a play some time in the future, and a masquerade? Once you two are settled into married life?" Jonathan suggested.
"What are you burning to perform this time?" the Duke said with an indulgent smile for his outgoing friend.
"I've always wanted to do The Recruiting Officer."
Clifford shook his head. "No. After our experiences in the Army, it's too close to the knuckle."
"The Beggar's Opera or All for Love?"
"Overdone, and too sentimental," Vanessa pronounced.
"I know. She Stoops to Conquer."
Thomas grinned. "Oh, now that would be fun."
"Very well, we shall secure copies of the play and can perform in the parish hall. It will be splendid," Jonathan said with a happy smile.
"Who will you be, Marlow or Hastings?" his sister Sarah asked.
"Neither. I get to be Tony Lumpkin the disobedient son, of course," the vicar said with a grin.
They tittered a bit nervously at the comment, a not so veiled reference to his own true state.
"And we shall be the Hardcastles, my dear," Thomas said with a wink at his fiancee. "I'll enjoy playing an old reactionary."
Charlotte blushed. "Oh, but I don't know the play very well, and I couldn't possibly recall all the lines."
"Don't worry, I shall prompt you," Jonathan said breezily. "Aren't you fortunate then that I have all of your vows written out for the big day?" he added, handing around the papers to each participant with a speaking role in the ceremony.
"And here are the readings we agreed upon, for Clifford and Vanessa as groomsman and matron of honor. I will start with Genesis, and they will take the others, Clifford the second one, and Vanessa the third and fourth."
"Don't forget mine as well," Thomas said.
"Yours?" Charlotte asked with a lift of her brows.
"I have a special one for you. I couldn't resist squeezing one more in."
Charlotte frowned. "Oh dear, I should have one for you then."
"It's not obligatory," he said with a slow smile. "It's just a chance to make the day more special for me. Not that I think Jonathan won't do a splendid job, but I'd like to recite something too."
His sandy-haired friend nodded approvingly. "That's a lovely idea. I shall overlook your veiled reference to my being newly ordained. I haven't done many marriages yet, but I give you my oath that I shall be word-perfect on the day, my friend."
"Then I shall recite that passage from Corinthians which we decided upon in the carriage, and everyone will be happy," Charlotte said.
"I certainly hope so," Thomas said, his emerald eyes sparkling.
It had been decided that they would get married in the small chapel still standing as part of the old castle, but it was too dark to see now that night had fallen, so they all entered the ballroom once more and practiced there.
After about half an hour, his sister Elizabeth came tearing in, tugging off a floury apron and apologizing profusely.
"It is all right, dear. You're here now, and that's the main thing," Thomas said, and gave his sister a warm hug and kiss.
Charlotte looked on with envy. She wished she could share the easy affection with people which Thomas seemed to find so natural.
She was sure he caught the look for he gave her a long, slow smile and held out his hand to her.
"Come, my dear. Time to stand up with me once more. And I especially want to practice our kiss."
CHAPTER TEN
Charlotte's heart fluttered as the Duke gripped her hand and held her close. So close that the heat of his body emanated from him like the sun's rays, warming her, gifting her with a radiance she had never imagined she would ever feel, not even when she had exchanged her furtive fumblings with Herbert Paxton.
But that thought seemed disloyal to Herbert, disloyal to herself and her will and independence as a young woman of the world. As a small act of rebellion, she did not offer her lips, but her cheek only to Thomas when it came time for the end of the ceremony.
He noted her coolness with a small frown, but did not press for more. Something was going on in her head, and if he had to guess, it was her inner fears over what they had shared in the master suite a short time before. She was still a virgin then, he thought with relief. He would wager his life on it, in every sense, for Paxton was nothing if not dissolute and more than likely pox-ridden.
But it appeared to him that her viewing their intimate sleeping arrangements had begun to bring home to her exactly what marriage entailed.
He had every intention of it being, joyous, sublime. But it was hard to tell that to any young girl who had heard nothing but the received opinion that the physical side of marriage was a painful chore at best for women, useful only for the begetting of children.
He retained her hand and stroked the back of it lightly with his thumb. He
would need to start slowly, get her used to all sorts of mild pleasures. Thus by the time he was prepared to launch his campaign to make Charlotte his wife in every way, she would certainly be eager for still more sensual delights.
"Shall we begin again, and go through once more?" he suggested to the vicar.
"Yes, of course. If no one minds," Jonathan agreed readily.
"Not at all," Mr. Castlemaine said in a hearty tone. "It will be quite a show for everyone, will it not, Charlotte, and we want to make sure you do us all proud." He grabbed at her arm, forcing Thomas to relinquish her once more.
He could see her moving away from his stroking touch with some reluctance.
She looked back over her shoulder at the Duke, then gave her father a weak smile, and headed back up the aisle with him to begin the processional once again.
They rehearsed the whole ceremony once more, only this time at the end Thomas made no attempt to kiss her at all.
Charlotte felt as though she had been drenched by a cold wintery shower. She had been icy toward him before. She could hardly blame him for returning her cool treatment, but all the same, it hurt.
Thomas quickly let go of her hand and declared, "Lovely. I think we're all as ready as we can be. Shall we adjourn to the parlor for coffee and cards?"
"By all means," Mr. Castlemaine agreed, patting the Duke on the shoulder.
The loss of contact with her fiance and her father's gesture made Charlotte feel more left out than ever.
They went into the Wedgwood parlor, a vast space which had been laid out with card tables, and possessed a very fine pianoforte and harp.
Vanessa volunteered to play the pianoforte for them and they all sat at the table and first engaged in piquet. Thomas insisted on partnering Charlotte.
"The sooner I become familiar with your habits at the card table, the better," he said with a grin.
"And I with yours. We would not want to lose the family fortunes, now would we?"
"That's much more easily done with fantan, faro or speculation," Jonathan observed.
"But in any case, you need not fear," Thomas said as he began to shuggle the cards expertly. "We never play for money."
The entire Castlemaine contingent looked at Thomas in shock.
"What, never, sir?" James asked.
"No, never," Thomas confirmed.
"Why ever not?"
"There's something sinful in getting money through another's misfortune, and without working to earn it. I know many would not agree, but a good card game should be pleasurable without preying upon the weak or foolish."
"Very well," her father said, placing his purse back in his jacket pocket with a gruff nod.
Vanessa and Clifford both exchanged warm looks, but said nothing about the vignt-et-un game at which her half-brother had staked her, which had led to Clifford winning her, and their eventual marriage.
Charlotte continued to stare at Thomas. If he had not lost all of his money at cards, then what had happened to it?
Samuel ventured to ask, "Does the same interdict on gambling extend to horses, dice and cock-fights, bear-baiting?"
"Indeed it does," Thomas said with no small degree of spirit. "Those take advantage of poor brute beasts. As for blood sports such as bear baiting, well, no civilised person with any respect for life would condone them. Watching a bear torn to pieces by hounds, or the hounds disemboweled by the bear's claws, is just too awful for any decent Christian to even contemplate."
Jonathan and Clifford concurred heartily. Her cousins looked even more gloomy and her father appeared even more astonished. She could see her own look of surprise reflected in the mirror above the white and gold marble mantelpiece. He was either too good to be true, or the worst liar imaginable.
No gambling, no women, no hunting... What sort of game was he playing?
Her only sensible guess was that he had made some bad investments, or that he was aiding his poor friend Jonathan in some way, giving him the gift of the parish he now held, and obviously having taken an interest in his getting ordained in the first place. He must have been supporting Jonathan when the young vicar's family had abandoned him, helped him throughout the time that he had gone up to Oxford to study, and now found himself tight for cash?
She told herself that it was none of her business. Thomas could spend his money as he liked. Under the law he could spend HERS in whatever way he chose as well once they were wed. So long as her own children would not be beggars, that seemed a fair arrangement to her. It just seemed odd that he would take so much trouble to marry her when he could have had any number of far wealthier women, who would also be interested in him for his title or manly attributes.
Which certainly were considerable, she had to admit, taking in his black evening coat, black waistcoat with wine-colored embroidery, his matching cravat, black breeches, stockings and evening pumps, the latter of which were so polished she could see the pattern of her gown reflected upon them.
"Well, if we have had enough talk of my philosophy on gaming, can we please play cards?"
From piquet, which she played only indifferently, to fantan, which she prided herself upon, they moved on to loo and speculation, but Charlotte thought it only fair to take her turn at the piano, and during a convenient lull in the game, relieved Vanessa from her duties.
Thomas's sister volunteered to perform a duet with her on the harp. Though it was completely unrehearsed, Thomas beamed at Elizabeth and Charlotte with pride, and said he had never heard anything so fine.
He honored them with an aria from Dido, Queen of Carthage, and was joined by Sarah for a duet. Their voices mingled perfectly, and Charlotte felt the familiar surge of jealousy again, for both Sarah and Elizabeth.
But it was silly. He had no love for Sarah, just a love of singing, and Elizabeth was but a child, and his sister at that. Yet it still rankled, for it seemed they shared so much with Thomas, while she felt like a complete outsider, an interloper in the place which was about to become her new home.
Meanwhile Jonathan had hunted up two copies of She Stoops to Conquer by Oliver Goldsmith in the library, and was eagerly assigning parts.
"Jonathan, please," his sister cautioned. "You're assuming we are all going to be here in a few weeks' time. I am sure that Thomas and Charlotte ware going to want to have some privacy after they're married."
"Oh, please, consider yourselves invited any time," Thomas said breezily. "The house has been very quiet since our parents passed away, and I came back from the war. It should be a bit more lively for my sister's sake, if not for my wife's. Charlotte will certainly want to continue her vibrant social round as much as possible even if she is shackled with a husband."
Charlotte could see he was only trying to be jolly for her sake, but it hurt all the same. Did he really think her so flighty? He certainly looked very serious, for all the liveliness of his words.
She also noticed now that Jonathan Deveril had lapsed into a sudden silence, and would not be roused from his inexplicable fit of melancholy no matter how hard she and his sister tried to cheer him.
Finally Jonathan said, "I tell you what. We can rehearse separately at our own homes, and meet once a week to see how we are all progressing. We don't have to be underfoot all the time."
"You're more than welcome, really," Charlotte said. "We're not just being polite. You're our friends. Who else would we rather spend time with here at home?"
This won an approving smile from Thomas which warmed her heart, and a grateful grin from Jonathan, who continued on with the preparations for the play as if nothing had ever darkened his mood.
She stared at him for a time, and tried to recollect what Thomas had said to set him off. The mention of the war must have been it, she decided. She went over to take Thomas' hand quietly as he sat leafing through one copy of the book.
He looked surprised, but pleased, and began to caress the back of her hand from the tips of her fingers to her wrists.
After a few simple songs th
at everyone knew the words to, the party went into the dining room for a late supper, and then the party broke up.
"I shall send the carriage around for you at four for the final rehearsal tomorrow, with music. I know you will have a great deal to pack and organise, but I would be grateful if you would sup with us all, you and your family," he said in a low voice as he led her to the carriage.
"Goodness me, packing! I'd forgotten all about it."
He smiled indulgently. "You've been here a great deal, and there is no hurry. We won't be going anywhere for several months, so you can always do it after we are wed."
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1 Page 46
