Regency Romance: The Earl’s Unforgettable Flame (CLEAN Historical Romance) (Fire and Smoke)

by Charlotte Stone

  His mother had encouraged him to take a full carriage to visit the Watsons, but it seemed ostentatious when it had only been a month since Mrs. Watson died. In the weeks since he last saw Catherine, he had tried to understand his own admiration for her, as he could not recall ever being so taken with a woman or anything close to what he was feeling. He’d met beautiful women before, charming them and more. But he’d never thought of them afterward. They were not memorable to him. Catherine, or Cat as he thought of her privately, had stayed with him since he was thirteen.

  Still, no matter how much he desired to be with her, it also made him anxious. To marry and settle down would be to give in to the future laid out for him, like a path he could not turn away from. Of course, he was aware that someday he would walk that path, but so far he had put it off as long as possible. If he moved forward with Cat, it would give his parents some level of satisfaction. Why only a few weeks ago, his best friend, Shep, the future Duke of Sermont, had written to say he was engaged! After all their tomfoolery and chasing skirts, he was choosing to settle down. Ben could not believe it, and the news did not have the effect his parents hoped it would. It did not have him envying his friend but questioning why he would do such a thing.

  In some ways, he had no business asking Cat if he could court her, because of his fear and unwillingness to commit. But the idea that he should be without her for years while he sought pleasures elsewhere also seemed unbelievably unappealing. It actually repulsed him. He knew these two desires within him were at war, and he did not know what to do about it.

  He had never met a woman like Cat. She was wholly unimpressed with position or wealth. It was as if she did not even see it. She made him work for every smile or laugh. His easy charm, which took no effort and got him whatever he wanted, except from the people who knew and loved him best, didn’t get him very far with her. He could not deny that her beauty matched her brains. Though her family claimed she was usually docile, he liked that he brought out her spirited retorts. He found her completely beguiling. Even an argument with her was a thrill. Still, he worried for her at the loss of her mother.

  He’d never forgotten her bravery, the way her mouth half-smiled as she called him a liar, how she bit her lip to keep from crying out. To see her again had surprised and befuddled him. There was still a part of him that wanted to comfort and soothe her and make everything perfect for her. But it also made him glad to see that he inspired some fire in her.

  She clearly took great pride in the accomplishments of her younger sister, but for some reason, she did not see herself in the same light. Her father had said it was due to her injury. Had others mistreated her because of it? It physically hurt him to think of such a thing. When he thought of her, her scars were the very last thing he considered, and when he did consider them, it was only because they were proof of her bravery and strength. She appeared to be unable to see why she would be appealing to any man, let alone him.

  He couldn’t believe he hadn’t looked for her before this. Of course, up until now, he had lived very selfishly, figuring that he had a lifetime of responsibility ahead of him and that he would enjoy life fully until he had to take up that burden. In fact, his one unselfish moment had been the lie he told her when he was twelve. Now, though… She was beautiful and passionate and kind and good. In all his wanderings and in all the dark parts of London he’d experienced, he had never met a woman who came close to matching her.

  In the month since he’d last seen her, he’d been despondent. His sister, Julia, had even teased him over it.

  “Are you lovesick, brother?” she asked coolly, arching her brow. “I cannot believe it. Why, if only I could meet the woman, I would tip my hat to her.”

  “You’re not wearing a hat,” he’d sulked. Could he write to her? Would that be untoward? He decided he would have to wait it out, which only made him unhappier. He was not used to going without that which he wanted.

  “Logistics,” Julia scoffed and grinned at him.

  Now, in the Watsons’ yard, a twitch of gray skirts caught his eye, and he followed the sound of pacing. Her slippers barely crunched the fallen leaves of the garden as she walked back and forth, biting her lip, clearly struggling with deep sorrow.

  Startled at the sight of him, she held a hand to her heart. “Oh, Lord Benjamin.” Her chest, which rose and fell rapidly in her very modest long-sleeved dress, called his attention to the lovely skin there. There was a little shawl around her shoulders, which slipped a few inches from her neck. “You frightened me. I wasn't… We were not expecting visitors.”

  “You have my apologies, Miss Watson, but I do hope you will make an exception for me,” he demurred, walking nearer to her. He had used up every bit of patience he possessed by waiting the whole of the month. Then he added with quite a bit of seriousness, “I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your mother. Pray tell, is there anything I can do?”

  Her face softened in a way she had not allowed him to see before. She did not look as tired as the last time he had been in her company, but her alabaster complexion was more pale than he was used to seeing it when she was well.

  For Cat, seeing him was a welcome sight, though she would never have been able to explain why. He had written a heartfelt note that her father had allowed her to read a few days after her mother died. Briefly, her lip quivered before she bit it again in what she considered a bad habit. She nodded. “Thank you for your kind sentiments, Lord Benjamin. You have already done so much. I believe her last days were more comfortable because of the doctor you provided.” Her voice grew hoarse with emotion by the end of her sentence, and he could not help but be reminded of the way her voice sounded after the fire. It made him want to comfort her all the more, and he took a step nearer to her, his hand outstretched, making her eyes widen. She could not recall being so close to a man who she was not related to except that day on the divan, the day her mother died.

  “Please believe me when I say if there is anything you need, anything I could do to improve your spirits or those of your family… I would do anything to ease your suffering,” he told her earnestly.

  “You are very good to offer, Lord Benjamin,” she replied, her blue eyes wide and innocent. He took yet another step closer to her, his boots nearly touching the hem of her gown.

  “It is not out of goodness that I say these things,” he began, but her eyes immediately withdrew from his face and looked toward the horizon. He decided to change tactics. After a moment of silence, he offered, “My friends call me Ben.”

  “I could never call you that. It would be most improper,” Cat whispered as she looked back at him, aghast. But she was even more shocked when he reached forward and took her hand.

  “It is not improper if we are friends.” He smiled down at her, and she could not deny that there was something about his dimples that gave her a longing in her chest. She wanted to return the smile, but could not without appearing too forward.

  “But we are not,” she told him, untangling her fingers and taking a step back. “You have been so good to my family. Please do not misunderstand me. I am so thankful for all that you have done. But we do not know one another, and I would never take the liberty of using your given name,” she added on a shuddering breath.

  “So, you do not remember me from before then,” he said on a sigh. “I do admit we do not know one another very well, but…I must tell you that I would very much like to begin to court you.” He stepped forward once again, as if they were dancing, and took her hand. This time, he brought her hand between the two of them, capturing it in both of his own.

  Her mouth gaped open. Was he aware that he held her scarred hand? What had she done to make him believe he could ask such a thing? “That would be impossible!”

  He had never truly been denied before, and he was tenacious in his affection for her. He was certain she only needed to understand what she meant to him. He smiled further, his dimples winking in his cheeks. “Why would it be impossible?”

/>   “You aren’t actually interested in courting me!” Her voice rose higher, even as she left her hand in his, feeling his thumbs caress both her fingers and the inside of her palms. Did he not feel her scars?

  “I just communicated to you that I was very much interested in doing so,” he quipped, cocking his head to the side as he drank in her eyes. He took a step closer. He could not stop himself, for something inside of her called out to his very soul. Of their own accord, he lifted one hand to the side of her neck, where the shawl had long since slipped away.

  Cat jumped a bit at the feeling of his hand on the scarred part of her neck, but truth be told, she felt as if she’d fallen under his spell. Even as she spoke, denying such things, she did not move away from him nor did she wish to. “I’m sure you could court any woman of your choosing. You should pick someone titled and beautiful,” she insisted, her voice rather stern. They still stood so close together, his thumb brushing the underside of her jaw with a tenderness she had never known. A part of her wanted to close her eyes and lean into the feeling. But she could not. How dare he play such a trick on her!

  “So, now you are giving me advice when it comes to my romantic life?” he asked, smiling at her with a softness he had never felt before. In the past, he had laughed with other women. He had joked with them and charmed them with his sparkling personality. But he had never been genuinely sweet to any of them. He had never felt the need. There had not been the intimacy he longed for with Cat. His own eyes drifted from her beautiful blue eyes to her full lips.

  “No!” she cried and took a step back, pushing his hands away. The spell was broken when she saw where his eyes went and realized he had the intention to kiss her or at the very least that he wanted to kiss her. It was difficult to move away from him, though. For a moment, she had been entranced by the feeling of his touch. It felt so delicious, so perfect, as if she has been waiting her whole life to feel his hands on her skin.

  “That’s not… I’m not… That is, for goodness’ sake! My mother only just died.” She paused to take a large breath. She was angry with him, but she was more furious with herself that she had fallen for the charms she assumed he had used on countless other ladies. “Furthermore, you must not understand the seriousness of what you are asking or you would never ask it.”

  His eyes sobered. “You are right. I should not have blurted it out like that in light of the loss of your mother, for which I remain so very sorry. Please do not think that I lack sympathy over your loss because of the way I asked. I shall wait however long you need, but please do not underestimate me or my intentions. I can give you my word that they are completely honorable. Your father said—”

  “You spoke to my father?” She pushed the blond hair, which escaped its pins, away from her face, flabbergasted at the news. On top of it, her hair was once again a mess in his presence. If her scars kept her from being beautiful, she would like to be, at the very least, presentable for him. “As for your word, my Lord, I do not know you well enough to trust it. I cannot believe you spoke to my father already and that I was not told,” she cried out.

  Why had her father not warned her so she could prepare what she would say? Instead, she felt so uncomfortable, a feeling she abhorred. She was not used to the attentions of the man and did not know what to say or do, when to meet his eyes and when to look away, or even how to rebuff him politely. Never in her life had she been asked to deal with the opposite sex in any fashion, outside of childhood.

  “Yes, I spoke to him just before…” For her sake, Ben did not finish the sentence.

  “My mother died,” she finished for him in a whisper. She turned away from him, overcome with so many different emotions, placing her hand on the trunk of the tree to lean on. Her mother would have known what to do in such a case as this. But she was gone now.

  He felt like he had to be very gentle with her, as he had shocked her so completely. The sorrows of the last month for her family could also not be underestimated. He walked to her, touching a gentle hand to her shoulder, but it only caused to her to whirl around toward him as her chest rose and fell quickly in agitation, her blush spreading down from her cheeks to her neck, creeping further down her chest. He tried not to let his amorous gaze follow it.

  “I am afraid I cannot agree to be courted by you. I may look like a joke with these scars, but I would prefer not to be the laughingstock of all of England when people discover you are courting a disfigured woman.” Each word she said felt like a tiny stone pelting him in the chest. That she could think that little of him bothered him. That she could think so little of herself actually pained him. “I learned at a very young age that some pain in life cannot be avoided and some can. This falls into the latter category.”

  “Do you think I care what other’s opinions are?” he asked brashly, gesturing wildly with his hands before reaching for her waist and bringing her body against his own. “Shouldn’t it be my opinion that matters, as it is me who is asking to court you?”

  Her entire body tingled as she was pressed so intimately against him, but her anger propelled her. She tilted her chin up at him and raised her voice. “You will be an earl someday! And the woman you choose as your wife will be a countess!” For the second time, she noticed that his eyes had strayed to her mouth. She was suddenly aware of his hands spanning her waist, holding her close. She could feel the heat of them, and the feeling was not at all unpleasant despite how awfully the conversation was going. Her heart thudded in her chest. “Lord Benjamin,” she whispered as he began to lower his head.

  What was this feeling in the pit of her stomach? She desperately wanted to feel his lips on hers, but she also wanted to be away from him as quickly as possible. As soon as his mouth brushed hers, however much she wanted to remain in his embrace, she pushed him away with all her strength. He was too tempting, and she knew better. Her own foolishness made her angry, and she took it out on him. “Is this a game for you? Come back to your family’s estate and court the girl with all the burns and then leave for your tour of the continent? I will not just be a laughingstock, but I shall be ruined. And for what? For sport? You know as well as I do that people make assumptions about women who are courted and then discarded. I am sorry that I cannot help you to pass your idle time in the country.”

  By the end of her speech, she was nearly yelling. It was poor manners and she knew it. Even though she recognized it was out of character, she could not seem to stop, as he had caused her to feel things she did not ever expect to. “My reduced circumstances… Just because I am… not as beautiful as other women you have known, does not mean I am stupid. I will not be your country diversion until you can move on somewhere else to someone else!”

  “So, I can ascertain your answer is no then?” he snapped, his hands useless at his sides. For a moment, she’d been soft in his arms, giving into the passion between them, but then she had completely insulted not only him but herself as well. He wanted to say, I would never discard you, but he had to admit that though his feelings were true and deep, he was young, and a binding commitment did make him nervous. “There is no need to insult me further by accusing me of deceit on top of everything else.”

  His lips still tingled from the brief moment when they had touched hers. What would it be like to truly and thoroughly kiss her? He would be haunted by the thought forever.

  “I cannot believe that you genuinely want to spend time in the presence of this.” She pointed to her own scarred neck and then her arm, making her point abundantly clear. She was sure that he would be disgusted when she pointed these things out, though in truth they had faded through the years. Instead, he reached out one last time to caress the burned side of her neck before she could move away, dodging him. She could not think when he touched her. She told herself she did not want to be touched, but her own body betrayed that idea.

  “Then your belief in me is sorely lacking,” he sulked angrily. “As is your opinion of your own self. You use your injury as an excuse.”

>   “An excuse?” she echoed, so offended she could barely choke out the words. “An excuse?” She spoke to him in as haughty a voice as she had ever heard from herself. “You should go. We are unchaperoned.” Her fury at the thought of being a joke to him left her out of breath. But his mouth had been soft and tempting. She wondered what would have happened if she would have let him kiss her completely instead of ending the kiss with only a brush, a whisper of his lips.

  “Perhaps you are right, as you find my feelings so abhorrent. You will not accept anything from me, then? Not a courtship between us? Not sympathy over the loss of your mother?”

  “I can accept your condolences for my mother, and I will share them with the rest of my family,” she replied coolly. “But no, I cannot accept your offer of a courtship when you are intent to make a joke of me at worst and turn me into a diversion at best.”

  “You insult me, Miss Watson,” he retorted through his teeth, although his heart was aching. How had he bungled things so badly? And why could she not believe that he found her utterly enchanting and beguiling? He realized, quite suddenly, that he had not explained his admiration to her at all. He had done a poor job of stating his case. But from the look on her face, it was too late. Besides, she had given her opinion of him, and it was sorely lacking. To know she thought so ill of him left him despondent.