To Bed or to Wed

by Sandra Sookoo

  “It’s horrible how rumors start, even if they’re grounded in truth, huh?” Alexandra purred from behind him. “Poor Lady Charlotte, the subject of gossip. The best thing to do is stay well away from my brother and the talk will surely die quickly.”

  Nathan ignored his sibling. “Charlotte, please believe that I had nothing to do with that.”

  “Trust you?” An eyebrow rose as if in challenge. “Should I? After all, how can I know your affection for me is true when you won’t make a solid decision? I thought you were different from every other man out there, Nathan. Perhaps I was wrong.”

  “God damn it, woman. How many times must I tell you I’m not like other men?” He worked his jaw as he searched for words. What would it take to convince her?

  Charlotte huffed. “Have you nothing else to say?”

  Nathan reeled with shock. Hatred roiled through him. Those very words echoed through his soul and chafed through his mind. Have you nothing else to say? How often had his father asked that of him when at the height of a rage when Nathan had either been beaten to tears or had withstood an hour of yelling? Something inside him snapped.

  “Perhaps if you desire to measure me against the rest of the men of your acquaintance, I shall do the same for you with the women of mine.” Anger burned his gut, his stomach, his throat. No longer did he see Charlotte standing in front of him. Instead, his father’s face swam in his mind’s eye. He drew up the invisible wall around his heart, the barrier he should never have lowered when he’d met her. “You’re nothing but a frivolous miss with nary a thought in your head beyond what ribbons or feathers to put in your hair or on your gowns.”

  Charlotte’s jaw opened slightly. “That’s not true.”

  “Ah, how does it feel to be accused unjustly?” He went on without giving her a chance to defend. “Women like you coo and coddle until men give you jewels, and you’re content for a time, but boredom sets in and you look for your next victim.”

  “I’m not that sort of person.”

  “No?” He continued without mercy, still ridden by the specter of his father. “You play with men’s hearts, never taking what they give seriously, until suddenly you find yourself well and truly on the shelf with nothing but an empty life stretching before you. At that point, any man with a fortune and a decent face will do, correct? Perhaps someone like Armenstout. If we’re going by rumors, the talk is linking your name to his. Shall I congratulate you on an engagement soon?”

  “How can you even think I’d want him over you?”

  “How can you think what you have about me? That’s the problem with rumors, my dear. They’re horrid and ugly little creatures that grow when we give them life.” Nathan narrowed his gaze. “He’s infinitely more suited to you than I am. And you’ll use him to gain a higher rung on Society’s ladder. That’s all we are to you—social positions.”

  “No.” Hurt sprang into her expression and tears pooled, magnifying the vivid blue. Her face paled. “You might be many things, Lord Ravenhurst, but I never thought you’d be such a heartless, uncaring bastard.” She drew back a hand and slapped his cheek so hard his eyes watered. “I believed, for a time, you were better than that.”

  Appalled, he stood staring. He’d put those tears in her eyes from his harsh words, but he had no idea how to fix the mess, not when anger still had him firmly in its grip. “Madam, I ask that you leave these premises and don’t darken my door again.”

  Tears fell to her cheeks. “I suppose a man who craves acceptance couldn’t possibly find the same in someone else because he couldn’t be selfish then.” She whirled around, grasped the door handle then yanked the door open. “Enjoy your life, my lord, as well as your loneliness. Now I understand why the ton keeps away from you. You’re content in your misery and refuse to acknowledge that someone might care for you despite everything.” She scurried down the street and eventually melded into the morning foot traffic.

  He held a hand against his hot cheek and cursed under his breath. I’ve really made a muck of things this time. I don’t blame her for leaving.

  Behind him, Alexandra clapped. “Bravo, brother. I couldn’t have rid the house of her more effectively.”

  Something within him broke beyond his current anger. The rage simmering inside burst forth and he closed the distance between them. “You.” He gripped Alexandra’s shoulders, propelling her against the wall and holding her there. “Why must you continue to meddle in my life? Are you so unhappy and miserable in yours that you cannot stand to think that I might have found joy?”

  “You don’t deserve it.” Grief and anger distorted her expression. “Not after what you did to my husband.”

  “I did what I could do; what I had to do. Death happens despite our best efforts.” He pushed her harder into the wall, but when fear shadowed her eyes, he immediately released her. I am not Father. “Find a way to work through your pain, Alexandra, for I refuse to be your scapegoat any longer. Perhaps it’s time we parted ways for a bit. Go back to your townhouse and I’ll see you at Christmas.”

  Nathan strode down the hall toward his study, his thoughts dark and brooding. The urge to depart immediately for the country weighed heavy on his shoulders, but the need to make amends with Charlotte was stronger. Yet, how to do it without female histrionics?

  After all, hadn’t he shown her he couldn’t tame the beast so why should she try?

  Chapter Ten

  When the front door softly opened then closed, Charlotte lifted her head from its resting place on her folded arms. Blinking against the illumination from the nearby oil lamp, she stood then rounded the desk in Felix’s study where she’d dozed while waiting for him to return home. After the debacle with Nathan, all she’d wanted was to cry on her brother’s shoulder, but instead she’d found his study empty. The butler had informed her he’d gone to White’s.

  By the time she’d reached the doorway, Felix was there with a loosened cravat and his waistcoat buttons undone. “May I talk with you a moment?” She hated that her voice sounded husky. Giving in to a fit of tears two hours ago hadn’t helped matters.

  “What’s wrong?” Felix escorted her into the study then gently encouraged her into one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Are you all right?” He peered into her face. “Dear God, have you been crying? You never turn into a watering pot. I distinctly remember you saying you’d never shed a tear for any man after Father died.”

  “No,” she lied, but one glance at his disbelieving expression brought out the truth. “Yes, I have, but this is an extraordinary occasion.” Since meeting Nathan, she’d given into tears more times than she had her whole life. “I’m afraid I made rather a cake of myself this morning with the marquess.”

  “Please don’t tell me you and he…” Felix floundered. He gestured with his hands. “That is to say, I’d like to hope there wasn’t a tumble into bed involved before he talked to me about settling your future.” He blew out a breath then dropped into the chair beside hers.

  “Of course not!” Her protest sounded more horrified than she felt. “Well, not that bedding the marquess would be such a bad thing. Perhaps that is the key to taming him after all.” When she spied her brother’s shocked expression, she grinned. “No, nothing like that occurred.” But, after remembering how Nathan had made her feel with their last kiss, she thought that doing some tumbling, as Felix hinted at, would be much easier than trying to woo him back with words. Especially after she’d accused him of doing something he’d never do. She saw that now.

  Felix held up a hand. “Spare me the inner workings of your mind.” He shook his head. “Your romantic intent notwithstanding, I fail to see how there is a problem. Besides, wasn’t the man supposed to meet with me this morning? He’d sent a note ‘round last evening. I waited as long as I could before going out, yet your marquess never made an appearance.”

  Charlotte shivered at the “your marquess” comment. “I see.” She bit her bottom lip to hide its tremble. Events of this morni
ng had no doubt caused him to change his mind.

  “What’s more, when I left the club, Ravenhurst was still there, holding court at the gaming tables with a drink in hand and a fierce scowl in place. I was hard pressed to determine if his fellow players were more wary of his temper or his skill.”

  Her heartbeat fluttered. That’s what she’d counted on—him being at the club and comfortable to remain there. “I’m afraid he’ll never be my anything after our row.” The last word squeezed through her tight throat. “I cannot believe how shallow I was. I was quite the harpy, and I hate that.”

  “Tell me the whole story and I’ll help you mend your fences if I can.” His gentle tone and the way he grasped her hand brought on a fresh torrent of tears.

  “I’d heard an on-dit that had me concerned, especially after the wonderful interlude he and I shared at the theater, so I paid him a call—”

  “Without a chaperone and in the morning hours no less?”

  “Yes. I knew Mother wouldn’t approve of the visit, and I didn’t want to wait.” She sniffed, then when Felix handed over his handkerchief, she wiped her nose. “I had to know the truth, and I’m afraid things went sour after that.”

  “He wasn’t in the best form?”

  “No. I’m afraid I pushed him while he wasn’t in the most grand of moods. He’d had a full schedule with Amherst, Lady Sophia and his sister. I think Jamie might have been there too. Barring that, he yelled at me, said hateful things that weren’t true, and then I…” She looked at Felix, wishing he’d figure it out.

  He rolled his eyes. “Knowing you, if you felt offended, you slapped him and said equally hateful things you didn’t mean or believe.” When she nodded, he sighed. “My poor sister. Why is it that love often drives a person to violent acts against the very one they’re mooning for?”

  “I refuse to discuss the possibility that what I feel for Nathan is love. If it is, and the rift isn’t mended, my heart will hurt too much.” She twisted the handkerchief in her fingers. “It’s been too soon after meeting him. Surely such things don’t happen so quickly?”

  “Your naiveté is adorable, but impractical. However, it does suit your romantic soul and will provide hours of storytelling to your grandchildren.” Felix grinned. “Also, knowing you, you’ve formulated a plan to make amends. You never could stand to have anyone cross at you, especially someone to whom you share deep affection.”

  “I have.” She chewed her bottom lip. He wouldn’t like it by half, and would probably forbid her to do such a thing. “Lend me some of your clothes. I want to sneak into White’s and talk to Nathan there, where he can’t flee or give into his temper, and he can’t refuse to talk because he’s kissing me.” Heat infused her cheeks at the admission. “I… I seem to lose all common sense once that sort of behavior starts.”

  “Yes, well, kissing does bring to mind all sorts of things one ought naught do.” Where she expected a staunch refusal to her request, he asked instead, “Why is talking to him so important?”

  “He’s haunted by his past; it’s in his eyes. I’m certain it’s what guides his actions. I want to help him, if not forget it entirely, at least overcome it. I…” Charlotte dropped her gaze to her lap. “I want him to be happy. Everyone deserves that.” I want him to want me as part of that happiness.

  “Very noble of you.” Felix stood and offered her a hand.

  Her stomach fluttered with nerves. “Then you’ll help me?”

  “Absolutely not. It’s a preposterous idea, and if you’re caught, not only will there be the devil to pay, but the scandal will rock this whole family.” He pinned her with a glance brimming with brotherly affection and censure. “Imagine Mother’s tears and outrage.”

  “Yes, but imagine her joy if the marquess and I make a match of it. One more opportunity for her to have grandchildren.” Her heart trembled even as heat wound through her insides. Was she truly mad enough to consider that she wanted Nathan for a husband? Am I strong enough to support him and his ghosts?

  “You don’t make it easy for a man, do you?” Felix shoved a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in random places. He held her gaze for long moments, either assessing her or weighing his options. “I suppose if I don’t help you, you’ll do it anyway, and if I don’t help you, it’ll make it difficult for you to slip into the club…”

  Charlotte threw herself into his arms and squeezed him tight. “Thank you, Felix. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  “I haven’t agreed yet.” He held her away with a frown. “It’s risky.”

  “Yes, but you know you will.” Her family might bedevil her at times, but without them, she’d be lost.

  He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “My clothes won’t fit you due to your, ah, your,” he waved a hand toward her chest.

  “My bosom?” She snorted with laughter. “I shall raid Father’s closet and make use of some of his garments. They’ll be years out of fashion, but not overly much. Besides, I don’t suppose men outside of Beau Brummell’s set will notice.”

  “Fine. And it will ease your mind to know Mr. Brummell isn’t in attendance tonight.” Felix held up a hand when she would have embraced him again. “It’s already midnight. We are not going to stay long at the club, do you understand? As it is, you’ll see things no woman is allowed to see and hear things a woman of gentle breeding shouldn’t need to endure.” A heavy sigh followed the announcement. “I’ll give you half an hour and not a minute more. After that I’m escorting your bum back here so you’ll be in bed before Mother is the wiser. We won’t speak of it again.”

  “Of course.” She beamed then kissed his cheek. “Have I told you recently you’re my favorite sibling?”

  Felix patted her back. “I don’t know how great I am. I shouldn’t allow this scheme at all.” He sounded so forlorn that Charlotte giggled. “But, seeing you happy vastly outweighs the trouble we’ll land in if found out.”

  Had there ever been a luckier girl? The warmth surrounding her gave her added confidence. “It will be a quick trip. I merely want to talk to him. Give him an ultimatum of sorts. I’ll be discreet. What could go wrong?” She pulled him from the study toward the stairs.

  “Any number of things. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Then I’ll boss him into my way of thinking. One way or another, he and I will come to an understanding.”

  “Watch out, sister of mine.” Felix shook his head. “With that sort of managing, you’re coming perilously close to being just like Mother.”

  Shock slammed into Charlotte’s chest, shoving out the temporary joy. “Dear heavens, is that true?” She thought about her behavior over the years. If let go too much longer, she would indeed fall into the same pattern that her mother had. Would she bully everyone around her into doing her bidding? Would they then resent being with her as they did with Roberta? She locked gazes with Felix. Humor danced in his eyes. “I had no idea until this exact moment. Perhaps being more demure or letting the men in my circle make decisions at times would be better.”

  Felix exhaled on a laugh. “Don’t be too extreme all at once. After all, if you change who you are, you won’t be you anymore, and that’s the woman we love.” He tweaked her nose. “But have a care not to be Mother’s shadow.”

  “I don’t look like a man.” Charlotte bemoaned this fact while she stared at herself in the cheval mirror in her father’s empty dressing room. She shifted, and her toes ached as they pressed against the wadded rags she and Felix had shoved into the boots to make them small enough for her feet. She’d wanted shoes, but for whatever reason, they couldn’t locate any in her father’s cupboards.

  “No, you don’t, which is merely one reason why this plan is fraught with holes.” Regardless, Felix continued to wind her cravat into an intricate knot. “And keep your voice down. I’d rather not wake Mother.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “She sleeps like the dead. Besides, her dressing room is next door to this one. Her hearing cannot possibly
be that sharp as to go through two walls.” Once the cravat was tied, Felix held up a tailcoat in brown superfine, a few years out of fashion. She shrugged into it then did up the buttons and smoothed the garment over her breasts. “For a man, I’m scrawny and short.” She made a face in the mirror. “It’s impossible.” No matter how much she tried to see herself from a male’s eyes, all she saw was a woman in male attire, though the fawn-colored breeches gave her legs a more shapely appearance than wearing her regular clothing. “I rather like the freedom wearing breeches affords.”

  “Don’t become accustomed to the aberration in convention, and don’t think too much about how you look. Once we’re in the club, it’ll be better. Men, as a general rule, do not linger upon how other men appear.” He stood back and looked her over from head to feet. “Of course, your shuffling gate in order to keep the boots on will be noticeable as will the lack of whiskers on your face.”

  “Perhaps I’ve just been shaved.”

  Felix scoffed. “It’s nearing one o’clock in the morning. A man would sport a shadow by now, especially since most men of the ton wander into the club near the supper hour.” He tugged at her tailcoat. “I know Mother has drilled into you to always stand up straight, but in this instance, I’ll need you to slouch a bit to further hide your chest.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Very well.” She let her gaze roam about the room. Though sheets covered most of the furniture, it still smelled like her father—spicy and woodsy. “Why have you not moved into this suite yet?”

  “I’m waiting until Mother abandons this property. I cannot very well perform marital duties comfortably with her two rooms away.” He gave Charlotte another glance. “You’ll need gloves to hide your hands. They’re entirely too feminine.”

  “Good catch.” She clomped over to the dormant fireplace then stooped down. It hadn’t been cleaned for some time, but a trace of soot still clung to the grate. “This will do just fine—if no one examines me too closely. But then, I do not intend to tarry with anyone except the marquess.”