Chapter One

by Tamara Gill

  He held still for a moment and took a steadying breath less he spill himself before he’d brought her to orgasm. And then Charlotte shifted a little and started to ride him.

  Mason’s axis tiled. Never had he known a lady to act in such an erotic way before. He clasped her hips and guided her as she rode him from in front. His balls ached; in fact, his whole body ached for release. It was a heady experience indeed, being fucked by a woman in such a way. Yet not any woman, but Charlotte.

  She made soft mewing sounds before her tempo changed, slowing down and riding his whole length. “You make me feel…”

  “Let go, darling.” Mason let her ride him and felt as the first contractions tightened about his shaft. She moaned into the cool night air and unable to stand the relentless torture of her orgasm that pulled at him, he joined her.

  Lights blazed behind his eyelids as he emptied himself deep into her womb. “Charlotte,” he said, gasping. “You’re everything to me.”

  She let go of the railing and turned a little in his arms to look up at him. Her eyes shone bright in the moonlight and Mason hoped she could see from his own features just what she made him feel, what she was coming to mean to him.

  “Am I?”

  He lightly kissed her and pulled her hard against his chest. “Yes.”

  Her tentative smile warmed his blood. “I’m glad for I’d hate to be the only one here who feels this way.”

  Mason nodded. He knew exactly how she was feeling. Like a life was blossoming before them, like the roses climbing the pavilion in which they now stood. He would give her time to realize she had no future with Lord Remmick and then he would be there for her. But it would have to be her choice. Charlotte would face social ruin and – although an easy decision for him – Mason knew not so for a woman of class. But she would eventually leave the bastard. And when she did he’d be there to protect her. Marry her.

  He kissed her again and let the embrace deepen into a firestorm of desire. In the interim, he’d ensure Lord Remmick and himself would have a little tête-à-tête.

  Face to face.

  In private.

  Mason didn’t have to wait long for his chance to talk to Lord Remmick. He stood in Drury Lane and watched as the bastard rutted like an animal with a whore from the streets. Her gasps of what sounded like pain making his lordship moan with pleasure.

  The bastard was sick.

  Mason waited for him to be finished then walked toward him, the whore walking quickly away and tying her gown as she did so.

  “I hope I didn’t make you rush, Lord Remmick.”

  His lordship started and looked up from tying his frontfalls. “You didn’t rush me, as the night is only young and I’ve plenty more of those whores yet to fuck.” Lord Remmick took a sniff of snuff. “What do you want, Helsing? Permission to screw my wife?” Like I said earlier tonight, pay me the money tomorrow and I’ll gladly give you her cunt.”

  Helsing punched the bastard and a fire in his stomach ignited as he watched him smack against the cobbled road.

  “I should kill you now. No one would know.” Helsing leaned over Charlotte’s husband and kicked him in the balls for good measure. “Start treating your wife with respect or I’ll hunt you down each and every time I see a new bruise on her face and I’ll make sure you sport one a lot bigger and darker.” He paused. “Do you understand?”

  Remmick glared and wiped the blood from his nose. “You’re a fool to care for her. She’s the coldest, most uncaring woman I know. And she’s married to me. You can never have her.”

  Helsing refused to react to the bastard’s taunt. Charlotte was anything but what her husband proclaimed her to be. Never had he known a more caring, warm person in all his life. Why, the day they’d met as children was entirely due to her finding his lost wolfhound. She had been a girl full of life and immense chatter in those days, and she would be again one day, as soon as Mason rid her of her diseased and unhinged husband of hers. Freed her of a life of which she was no longer happy to be a part.

  “Do you understand?” Mason repeated, kicking Lord Remmick in the stomach just for the sake of it.

  Remmick sputtered and rolled onto his side. “I understand, Helsing. Now fuck off.”

  Mason smiled. “Gladly. Goodnight.”

  He walked away and summoning a hackney, headed back to Mayfair. As the cab pulled away he looked out and saw Remmick get on his feet and stagger off into the night. Unease crept down his spine and he hoped he hadn’t just made Charlotte’s life harder. That had never been his intention.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlotte walked into the foyer of her London home and watched as an array of luggage was piled at the base of the stairs by busy footmen. A moment later, her cousin, Rose from Bath walked serenely into the house and came toward her, a smile on her lips.

  “Charlotte, it’s so wonderful to see you again. You cannot believe how excited I am to be in the capital at last.”

  Charlotte kissed her cheek and noted her cousin’s appearance and apparel. “And you, my dear.” She looked toward the carriage and frowned when it pulled away from the curb. “Where is your mama? I thought she was to accompany you.”

  “She fell ill, unfortunately. Or perhaps, fortunately I should say. But that does not matter as I’m here now and you’re married and able to chaperone me to all the balls and parties.”

  Charlotte started at this tidbit of information that she’d gone from having guests to stay to being a lady who sponsored a debutante about London. It was Rose’s first London season, due to Bath having been a disaster the year before. The poor girl had formed a tendre for a particular gentleman, who had hightailed off to London before asking Rose to marry him. Rose’s mama, worrying about her daughter ‘s future, had suggested London. A change in location was surely what was needed, to raise her daughter’s spirits. And so here she was.

  “Well, I hope Aunt May recovers soon. And of course I’ll chaperone you. In fact, you’d better have your things unpacked and perhaps have a lie down before tonight. We’re attending a masquerade.”

  “I’m not sure if mama would approve of me attending a mask, Charlotte. Are they not where trysts of the night occur?”

  Charlotte laughed and hoped that was the case. Especially when it involved Mason and herself. She shook away the unhelpful thought. “Not the masquerade we’re going to, my dear. But I will not lie to you, there are sections of society that partake in such risqué behavior, but I’m not one of them.” The image of what she’d done the night before in the garden bombarded her mind and heat coursed up her neck.

  “Are you well, Charlotte. You seem to have reddened. You’re not blushing, surely?”

  Charlotte laughed, covering up her discomfiture. “I’m fine dearest. Now, run along upstairs, I’ll have a maid sent up to help you unpack and prepare you for tonight.”

  “Thank you,” Rose said, kissing Charlotte’s cheek. “I’m so grateful to you. I’m sure by the end of the season I’ll be happily married like you and living probably across the park from this very house.”

  “I hope so too,” Charlotte said, pushing her cousin toward the stairs. “And make sure you rest. That’s an order.”

  Rose smiled. “I promise.”

  Later that evening, Charlotte stood beside Rose in a room full of the ton, some dressed in dominos and masks that completely concealed their identity. Others, like herself, wore an elaborate hair piece or half mask and regular gowns. Either way, the room was a kaleidoscope of color and elegance. Charlotte smiled at Rose and wondered if she too had looked like that three years ago, full of hopes and dreams, when she’d had her debut in London.

  The memory of James and his elegance of courtship that had been a mask like the one she now wore, made her tremble with regret. How had she not sensed his rotten core? Rose clasped her arm and pulled her from her musings and Charlotte promised she wouldn’t let her cousin suffer the same fate. She would have her marry for love and nothing less.

  “He is
here,” Rose said.

  Charlotte frowned and turned to her cousin. “Who is here, dearest?”

  “The gentleman I wrote to you about. You know, the one who had to leave on urgent business in London just, before he could propose.”

  Charlotte refrained from mentioning to her young cousin that the gentleman’s hightailing it to the capital could have been because an offer of marriage was expected. It was just like something James would do. Take his fill and then walk away without a backward glance, and not a blot on his conscience.

  “Perhaps you could introduce me.” Charlotte smiled at Rose and she nodded her eyes bright with excitement.

  “I would like that,” Rose said.

  Charlotte turned her attention back to the guests, some dancing, others gambling and chatting in groups about the room. She spied Amelia and waved to her dearest friend who was dressed as a tavern wench, her bust almost spilling from her gown.

  Feeling a prickling of desire across her skin, Charlotte looked toward the card room and spied Mason leaning casually against the door. He was dressed in a black superfine suit and black silk breeches. His waistcoat embroidered with intricate gold stitching matched his golden cravat. Never had she thought she’d react to a man like she did when he was present. Like her skin, her very being was attached to him in some way, reliant on him to keep her alive. Alive with desire and love.

  “He’s coming this way.”

  Charlotte tore her gaze from Mason and turned toward Rose as a sliver of dread ran up her spine. “You never told me the gentleman’s name, Rose. Who was it that you formed an understanding with in Bath?”

  Rose leaned toward her to enable privacy. “Lord Helsing from Somerset. Perhaps you know him as I understand his country estate resides not far from your parents’ home.”

  Charlotte fought the bout of nausea that settled in her stomach. “Lord Helsing was the one from whom you expected an offer of marriage?”

  Rose nodded. “Yes. He courted me most ardently in Bath and mama was sure he was in love with me. But then he just up and left, made an excuse to papa about urgent business in the capital.”

  Urgent business. Was she, Charlotte, the urgent business? She had wondered why all of a sudden he was back in town and seemingly courting her. Anger thrummed through her veins at the thought he’d used her cousin and now her. But that wasn’t really the case, as Charlotte was the one who sought him out. Asked him to lie with her.

  She watched him walk toward her and noticed his step faltered when he spied Rose standing beside her. Charlotte ground her teeth. What Rose had said was true. He’d courted her cousin and left her hanging like a ripe apple on a tree.

  He continued on and bowed when he stopped before them. Charlotte held his gaze before she curtsied. “Lord Helsing, you know my cousin, Miss Rose Lancer of course.”

  Charlotte didn’t miss the widening of his eyes at the manner of her introduction that held no warmth.

  “Of course,” he bowed. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Lancer.”

  “Rose, please, Lord Helsing. We are acquainted well enough for you to use my given name.”

  “Perhaps in Bath, my dear but in London it is best to use your proper salutation.” Charlotte glared at Mason and hoped he could read the fury over his behavior in her eyes. “My cousin was telling me about your time in Bath, my lord.”

  He nodded his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Would you care to dance, Miss Lancer. For old times’ sake.”

  “I would love to, thank you, my lord.”

  Charlotte smiled at Rose and watched as he led her cousin onto the floor. They did make a striking pair. She was fair and he was not. Both tall, yet perfectly proportioned for one another. Not to mention the fact that neither were married.

  Despair threatened to make her ill. What was she doing? Having an affair with a man who could not save her. Only she could save herself and as much as Charlotte hated to admit it, she was too weak to leave. To throw society the biggest scandal of the year and divorce James like she should. But she could not. And here she was, angry at Lord Helsing, and all because last season, he had courted her cousin in Bath. Perhaps.

  Granted having done so, he should have offered marriage. But had he really courted her or was Rose’s attachment to him so strong that she desperately hoped his attention toward her was just that?

  Charlotte turned away from the couples dancing a fast quadrille and went to find the ladies’ retiring room. She slipped through a door and walked toward a footman who stood before a door near the end of the passageway. Tiredness swamped her and all she wished to do was leave.

  “Charlotte!”

  She whirled to find Mason storming toward her, his countenance one of frustration and concern.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Away from you.” She continued past the footman and toward a door that seemed to lead outside. He followed her and she fought the urge to turn about and scold him in front of a servant.

  The balmy night air kissed her skin as they stepped onto a darkened terrace. Charlotte continued on and heard Mason close the door behind them.

  “Charlotte, stop.”

  She did and took a moment to calm down before he joined her. “I request that you leave me be.”

  “Don’t be absurd. Why would I do that?”

  She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because you owe my cousin a proposal of marriage after you courted her last season.”

  “I never courted her. I was her friend and acquaintance, but that’s all.” He frowned and ran a hand through his hair. “She resembled you and I suppose I gravitated toward her because of that.”

  Charlotte stepped away from him. “You used her then, which is worse. How could you, Mason?”

  A muscle ticked at his temple. “I apologize if it seems like I did, but I didn’t do it intentionally. You did marry someone else, Charlotte.”

  “You didn’t ask me to marry you, Lord Helsing need I remind you?” She took a calming breath. “Why didn’t you tell me about your relationship with her? Why keep it a secret?”

  He tried to pull her into his arms, but Charlotte pushed him away. “Don’t touch me. Tell me why you didn’t say anything?”

  “Because I knew you’d react this way. Innocent or not, my actions with your cousin seem heartless. It was not my intention.”

  The thought of Mason with Rose turned Charlotte’s stomach and made her tremble with jealousy. “Did you kiss her?”

  He paused. “No.”

  The quiver in his voice gave him away. “You lie.” Charlotte clasped her stomach and swallowed. Hard. “How could you lead her on so, then come to London and seek me out as you did. Kiss me, make love to me?”

  “When I realized her attachment to me was beyond that of a friend, I left. I suppose I panicked. I know I should have stayed and let her down in the nicest way possible, but I didn’t. Men kiss debutantes all the time, Charlotte, not all the mamas make them marry.”

  Charlotte scoffed. “You’re a cad and I’m a whore. What am I doing?”

  She pushed him away again when he went to pull her into his arms. “What we’re doing is wrong and we need to stop. I’m married and you need a wife at some point.” She sighed and met his troubled gaze. “Just the thought of you and Rose together made me insanely jealous. I can’t stand it. But I can’t help it, don’t you see? You may not marry her, but you will marry someone, and what we’re doing is only going to make it harder for me to let you go.”

  “Then don’t let me go. I have a younger brother, Charlotte. He can produce the heirs for my family.”

  She shook her head. “If only it were that easy.” Charlotte walked up to him and kissed his cheek, taking the opportunity to breathe in his delicious scent of sandalwood and something else, something exotic, one last time. “I know you want what’s best for me, but my marriage mistake is the burden I must bear. Please leave me alone and go on with your life. I really do wish you well.”

  He stepped
away from her and immediately she felt the loss of his heat. A lifetime loomed ahead of her, cold and bereft of any love, children, and solace.

  “I will do as you wish but only because you’ve asked this of me. But let this be known, Charlotte. I neither agree nor want to. This decision of yours is yet another mistake made by you.”

  She gasped. “How can you say that to me?”

  “Because it is true.” He strode back to the door and paused before opening it. “I love you,” he said, before taking his leave.

  Charlotte slumped against the balustrade and tried to push down the severing pain tearing through her chest. “I love you too,” she whispered, to nothing but the warm night air.

  Mason stormed through the guests at the masquerade and didn’t bother hiding his thunderous gaze. He entered the card room and found George sitting alone while he watched others around him play cards. Mason slumped into a vacant chair and summoned a footman for a brandy.

  “Problem?” George drawled, smirking.

  Mason cursed. “One of my own making. Damn it.” He took the glass offered to him and drank it down without pause. “Charlotte’s… I think I’ve ruined everything.”

  “Really? What did you do?”

  “Why is it,” Mason said, summoning the footman for another drink, “that women jump to conclusions that are inaccurate and then, will refuse to hear what you have to say.”

  George laughed. “You’re asking the wrong man. I have no idea.”

  Mason took a calming breath and sat back in his chair. The brandy helped to cool his ire but Charlotte’s words stung. That he’d fallen in love with her didn’t help. With any other lady he’d have walked away without a backward glance at such an accusation from a married woman. But with Charlotte he couldn’t. He cared for her. Her opinion mattered to him. That she thought him a cad who used debutantes and moved on to married women at will hurt. He shook his head.

  “Miss Lancer’s in town,” Mason said not looking at George. The last thing he needed to see was his best friends knowing smile.