by Tamara Gill
Charlotte nodded. “He’s often violent and cruel. So cruel it’s beyond imagining.” Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks and she bit her lip. “I should never have married him. Had I known...”
“You weren’t to know. I knew he was fond of nightly pursuits in the bowels of London, but I did not know he would hit his wife.” He rubbed a tear from her cheek and Charlotte leaned toward his touch. It had been so long since she’d had contact filled with reverence and care with another person. “I should have waited. Married someone else. Anyone but James.” She met his gaze and for the life of her, couldn’t look away.
“I blame your father as much as I blame your husband. I have not told you this before but the day I came to visit your home, the day after we’d met at the lake I went there for a particular reason.”
“Which was?” Charlotte asked frowning. Lord Helsing stood and went to stand before the hearth, watching as the flames licked at the wood. “I lied when I said I hadn’t heard of your betrothal. I had. And having heard I set off for home to discuss the matter with your father. I knew of Lord Remmick’s…history and thought to warn your father. Make him see the error in agreeing for you to marry such a cad and therefore break the understanding.” Mason paused and a pained expression crossed his visage. “He wouldn’t listen.” He turned and met her gaze. “I failed you that day. As a friend, a neighbor and as a gentleman.”
“You didn’t fail me, Mason,” she said, using his Christian name for the first time in an age. “I failed myself.” Tears pricked her eyes and she sniffed. “When father said you’d come with reservations about Lord Remmick I should have listened. I’ve know you for so long. We’d played, laughed, fought in the past but you’ve never placed me in harm’s way. I should’ve taken heed of your doubt and acted on it.”
“We all make mistakes, Charlotte. We wouldn’t be human if we did not.” He came and sat beside her and clasped her hand. “Why are you really here, Charlotte? It’s the middle of the night.”
A myriad of desires and needs thrummed through her veins at his direct question. Why was she here? Because she’d always loved him. From the moment she’d met him as a young girl, she’d loved him. Charlotte studied Mason’s features, his straight nose and aristocratic jaw. His untidy hair that looked as if he’d run his fingers through it too many times. How she loved him.
Charlotte leaned forward and clasped his jaw. He stilled for a moment but didn’t pull back as she continued on her quest and kissed him.
When he didn’t respond, she sat back and studied his reaction. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I came here tonight to teach James a lesson and all I’ve ended up doing is making myself look like a fool.” She swallowed a sob and searched for a handkerchief in her cloak pocket. She was a ridiculous fool, about to make another mistake to add to her many. Mason was her friend, not a lover. Why she even thought he would look at her in that way was an absurd notion.
“You need to go home, Charlotte and think about what you wish to do. You’re married and if we go down this road, they’ll be no turning back. For me at least,” Mason said, standing and pulling her up. Her cloak opened and she quickly tied it closed again, but not before Mason had seen what scandalous evening wear she had on.
“I understand and you’re right. Revenge is never the way to solve a problem, even my problems, as great as they are. I apologize for intruding upon you.”
He clasped her jaw and made her look up at him. “I’ve always cared for you, you know that. Yes, many years passed that we never saw one another, but you were always thought of and wondered about. Do not imagine the reason I’m sending you home stems from my not wanting you. Without a second thought, I would rip that cloak from your shoulders, untie your shift and take you here on this settee and let your husband be damned. But I will not. If you want to be with me it needs to be out of your desire to be with me, not your lust to hurt your husband in any way you can.”
Mason led Charlotte out of his townhouse and walked her though his back garden toward the mews. He summoned his stableman to fetch a Hackney and have the cab brought around the back.
“Pull your hood over your hair a little more, Charlotte. I don’t want you to be seen leaving my premises.” Mason looked toward the street and cursed the blasted Hackney driver for taking his time. Under the moonlight and knowing Charlotte wanted to sleep with him was almost too much to resist.
Almost…
But the thought that she would add him to her list of mistakes kept him rooted to the spot. She needed to come to him out of desire, need or affection…for him alone. But never revenge. He couldn’t stomach that.
A tear slid down her cheek and he clamped his jaw. Damn it, he’d never intended to hurt her. The last person on earth he’d ever wish to injure was Charlotte. He pulled her into his arms.
Her willowy figure sat snug against his and he breathed in deep the exotic smell of her hair. “I don’t send you away because I want to,” he said, rubbing her back and knowing her body was only two pieces of material away. “Please say you understand.”
The sound of the coach rumbled on the cobbled drive and Mason pulled Charlotte toward the gate. “Charlotte?”
She nodded and pulled back. “I do. I’m just mortified I humiliated myself.”
Mason ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t. Just promise me you’ll sleep on what I’ve said tonight. When you wake in the morning, you’ll understand where I’m coming from. But know this, it isn’t due to my lack of interest.”
She nodded. “Goodnight, Lord Helsing.”
Mason helped her into the coach and shut the door. He flicked the driver a sovereign and gave the man Charlotte’s address. “Goodnight, my lady,” he said as he watched it drive away before turning a corner and going out of view. He swore and stormed back through his garden gate and strode toward his house. For the first time in his life, Mason cursed the fact he’d been born a gentleman and given the airs of one. Next time, he wasn’t quite sure he would have it in him to deny Charlotte anything.
Least of all himself.
Chapter Seven
Mason sat atop his horse and watched as Charlotte galloped down Rotten Row at breakneck speed. A week had passed since he’d seen her, her avoidance of him starting to irritate. The fact she was also out riding without a chaperone grated on his nerves. Since kissing her, as quick and innocent as that kiss was, Mason had cursed his gentlemanly behavior. His gut clenched at the memory and he swore.
Charlotte, un-chaperoned and alone, wasn’t safe, not with him around at least.
He cantered toward her and watched as her eyes flared in surprise. “Good morning, Lady Remmick,” he said, tipping his head in acknowledgement.
A shade of rose bloomed on her cheeks and he smiled. “Lord Helsing,” she replied. “I thought I had this turf to myself this morning, being as early as I am.”
“I like to ride early myself. It clears my head.” She looked about and shifted on her saddle and Mason wondered what she was thinking. Was she uncomfortable around him now? Did she regret her words and actions of a week earlier? “I have not seen you about. I hope you’re well.”
“I’m very well, thank you, my lord. The weather is very congenial today, my horse…”
Mason ground his teeth at the benign banter. He sighed. “Charlotte, if we’re only ever going to speak about the weather or our horses, our conversation will soon bore even me. And while I like to discuss my cattle as much as any other gentleman, I do wish you would trust me enough to talk to me as a friend.”
A pained expression flitted across her features. “I cannot. I’m sorry.”
“Yes you can, you just don’t want to.” He threw her a pointed stare. “Charlotte?” Again she looked about before she met his gaze and raised her chin.
“I’m so sorry about last week. I really don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like that.” She bit her lip and his gut clenched. “Please forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive. You’
ve done nothing wrong. If anything, it is I who owe you an apology.”
“Why?” she asked.
“For turning you away.”
Charlotte’s stomach twisted into delightful knots at Mason’s words. For days, she’d chastised herself for a silly fool. Embarrassment over how she’d propositioned him made her squirm daily. Never did she think she could look him in the eye again without dying on the spot. But the gentleman that Mason was, proved her wrong. He read her as easily as a book and knew her reaching out for him was just that. A call to help and comfort when she was down. The fact that he didn’t take advantage of her during a time of need spoke volumes as to what kind of man he was.
He was a true gentleman. “I understand why you did and I thank you for doing so. I so wish for us to be friends again. To be as close as we were as children. I’ve always thought of you and hoped you were happy.” Charlotte walked her horse on and smiled when he came abreast. “Tell me about Bath and your time there. When time permits, I really should make a trip up there myself. I have a cousin who lives there did you know?”
“I do know that, yes,” he said. “I enjoy travelling and although Bath is not so very far away, the limited society suits me. I’ll return there should the season in town prove…”
“Prove what?” Charlotte asked, wondering why Mason looked uncomfortable for the first time since she’d seen him. “Mason, what were you going to say?”
He chuckled. “Prove disappointing. I find now that I’m nearing thirty I should look for a wife if you really must know.”
“How diverting,” Charlotte said laughing and enjoying herself for the first time in a very long time. “No one caught your fancy? I find that very hard to believe.”
“Believe it, my lady for it is true. And not through lack of trying on my behalf. But there was never that…”
“Spark?” Charlotte smiled at him and he nodded.
“Yes, that spark,” he replied catching her eye.
Charlotte knew all too well what that spark felt like and to know you were married to a man who didn’t raise so much as a flicker of a flame left her hollow. Not to mention that after that fleeting kiss she’d shared with Mason, her whole outlook on love and what a man and woman could share with mutual desire, had altered. For the first time since she’d watched him swim in the lake, she’d desired a man to touch her. To do more than just kiss her. She’d wanted him. Desperately. And none of the emotions resembled revenge. When she thought of passion, she thought of only Mason and not her husband.
“I hope you find it, my lord. There is nothing worse, believe me, than to live a life without that spark.”
Mason sighed and pulled his horse to a stop as other riders took to the track just ahead of them. “I do not wish that for you, Charlotte. You’re a beautiful woman. A kind and considerate lady who deserves so much more than you’ve been dealt. Ask me again.”
Charlotte shivered at his words and met his gaze. “Ask you what again?” Her voice came out in a rush and she inwardly swore. As if she didn’t know just what.
“Ask me.”
Mason’s voice resonated with steadfast resolve and she tore her gaze away from his. To think straight, she couldn’t drown in orbs so blue and swirling with need that she would flounder. But how could she not wade out into murky waters? Not to would mean never to live, experience all that life, this man, was offering her.
“You didn’t want me to ask unless it wasn’t owing to my seeking revenge,” she stated.
“Then make sure it does not. Now ask.”
“Will you sleep with me?” The words came out as a rushed whisper, but Mason heard. A muscle on his temple worked as he stared silently at her.
“I don’t believe sleep will factor into our agreement, my lady.”
Were it possible Charlotte’s toes would’ve curled in her boots. “I hope not.”
Chapter Eight
Charlotte settled against the squabs of her hackney cab and tried to calm her nerves. After meeting Mason in Hyde Park the thought of what they were about to start, to do with each other left excitement thrumming through her veins and expectation right alongside of it. It had taken three days for James to leave. The reason why he could be staying home annoyed and worried her at the same time. Not that she cared what happened to her husband anymore, that part of her conscience had died a long time ago, but maybe he’d caught some awful disease and was sick. And should he force himself on her would make her sick also. She shuddered and tried to calm her racing thoughts. Tonight she needed to concentrate on one man and one man only.
Mason.
The cab pulled up before his town house and she alighted and was ushered inside without having to knock. She smiled and walked toward the library having seen the candlelight flickering from the ajar door.
Mason sat leaning on his knees and staring at the flames in the hearth. He looked lost in thought, even worried if the slight frown lines beside his eyes were any indication. Charlotte stopped and wondered if he’d changed his mind. Regretted his words.
Please no.
“My Lord?”
Mason stood quickly and came over to greet her. He smiled as he reached over her shoulder and shut the door. “Good evening, my lady.”
Charlotte handed him her cloak and laughed. “I’m so nervous. I know I shouldn’t be, because you’d never hurt me, but I’ve never done…”
“Come and sit.” He pulled her toward the settee and her hand burned at his touch. She had wondered over the last few days if that spark they spoke of was a figment of imagination, need, on her behalf. But now, right at this moment, with his large hand clamped around hers, she knew such thoughts were untrue. With Mason her whole body reacted, sparked to life like a firecracker ready to explode.
She sat.
“You’re very beautiful this evening.” Mason ran a finger down her cheek, leaned in and kissed beneath her ear. Charlotte shut her eyes and bit her lip to stop herself from throwing herself into his arms like a crazed, affection starved matron.
“Thank you,” she managed.
His lips touched her shoulder and she shivered. “There is no need for thanks.”
She clutched the lapels of his coat and pulled him against her. “Mason. Please.”
He growled and took her lips in a searing kiss. Finally!
Charlotte moaned as his tongue licked her lips. Heat coursed through her veins when he deepened the embrace; almost consuming her with his desire. Never had she wanted anyone as much as she wanted Mason to take her here, right now, on his library settee.
“Are you sure?” he said, clasping her hand when it reached the buttons on his frontfalls.
“I have never been more certain of anything.” Again, her lips touched his while her hand unbuttoned his breeches. It took some coaxing to slip open his buttons, but eventually the flap opened and she was able to clasp his straining member.
Velvety, soft skin slid against her palm and Mason moaned. Charlotte wrapped her fingers about him and stroked him as he kissed her senseless. Heat pooled at her core and she gasped when his hand kneaded her breast through her dress.
“I want you,” she managed to say. Mason quickly unbuttoned the front of her dress, pushing the garment from her shoulders. He pulled back for a moment to pull her transparent shift over her head, leaving her naked.
Cool night air kissed her skin and Charlotte felt her nipples peak into tight buds. She bit her lip at the savagery and desire she could read in his gaze as it locked on her, scorched her. Expectation ran up her spine and she ran her hand over the tip of his penis feeling his desire.
He laid her down onto the settee and settled between her legs. Charlotte gasped as he pushed against her sex and teased her with his body. Her breathing hitched as he watched and continued to taunt her relentlessly.
“I won’t want to give you back, Charlotte. There is no denying me if we do this. From this moment on, you’re mine and no other’s.”
Her mind a haze, Charlotte nodded. W
ould in fact do anything Mason said right at this moment. He pushed a little inside and started to pay homage to her breasts. She ran her fingers through his dark locks and held him there. The wicked things he was doing with his tongue sent sensations to spike toward her core. “Mason please,” she begged.
He chuckled and feathered kisses up her neck before kissing her lips with such reverence that Charlotte could almost defy any scandal to come live with him. Divorce James and marry Lord Helsing indeed.
“You are mine.” The deep, lust-tinged voice brooked no argument as he thrust into her core and took her. “Always,” he said.
She gasped as the size of him took her a moment to accommodate. Fullness and completeness was all she felt. Charlotte wrapped her legs about his waist and a delicious pressure built inside. She clutched at his shoulders and realized with some amusement that he still wore his shirt and pants. The image of her naked and Mason above her, taking her fully clothed made her moan.
“Mason, I’m—”
“Let go, Charlotte.”
She met his gaze and bit her lip. Oh, it felt so good. Tighter and tighter she coiled about him, needing to be closer, wanting him harder with every stroke, until a pleasure unlike any she thought possible exploded in and all around her.
“Mason,” she moaned into his shoulder. Her body riding his until the last of her orgasm was spent. Mason quickened his pace, his gasp against her ear marking his own orgasm.
They stayed like that for a time, both trying to regain their breath and understanding over what had just happened between them.
Charlotte pulled back and pushed a lock of hair from his face. “That was amazing.”
He chuckled. “Yes it was,” he said, kissing her again, in a slow, sensuous manner. “And I meant what I said before, Charlotte. I’ll not share you.”
Charlotte swallowed. “I’m married, Mason. You have to accept that.”
The moment he pulled away, she missed his heat. He stood and walked toward the hearth, and Charlotte could tell by the tautness of his shoulders that he was angry. And he had every right to be. But then, he knew why she’d come here for tonight. To seek solace, love from a man she’d always admired and cared for. They were just two people who had freely chosen to love each other. Nothing more could be between them other than friendship and perhaps a repeat of tonight, if he was willing. But no matter how much she wished to divorce James, she could not. The scandal would kill her father, not to mention ruin her sister’s hope of marrying well.
