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

by Charlotte Stone

  “Shall we be on our way then?” Benjamin asked the sisters. They had but a half of an hour walk ahead of them. He looked at Jane, who grinned without any sense of bashfulness, and then at Cat, who smiled more fully, looking up at him through her dark lashes.

  “Will you tell us everything about the continent on the way?” Jane asked him with excitement. In many ways, she was a miniature of her sister in terms of appearance, only with a light dusting of freckles along her nose. But she had an enthusiasm about her, a sense that she wanted to run headlong into every experience she possibly could. “And I do mean everything! You must not leave anything out!”

  “I’m not sure we will have enough time,” he laughed. “It was a year of my life, you know.”

  Catherine grinned at him with some humor. He felt as if he was under her spell once again, and all it took were a few smiles. “Then we must walk slowly,” she intoned seriously. “I know Jane will want to hear every detail.” Again, she looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I would not want to miss anything either.”

  Hope made his fingertips tingle. “If there is not enough time during the walk or during my visit, then perhaps I will return to you.” He paused purposefully and meaningfully. “And your family.”

  When he winked at her, she blushed and looked at the horizon. She felt very bold, but also a contentment had settled over her now that she was back in his company. He still made her nervous but not in an anxious way. It was only that she still wondered what his lips would taste like, and she could not forget the feeling of his palms against her neck nor his hands holding her waist. She had no business thinking of these things, but she also could not stop herself.

  “Perhaps,” she replied, glancing at him thoughtfully.

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  And so he made a decision…

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  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Hope for a Second Chance

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  “It really does sound wonderful,” Cat told him as she looked at him. His skin seemed golden in the sun, and a part of her regretted that they were so near home and that their conversation would be coming to an end. “To see the canals of Venice, oh, and Paris! I cannot imagine seeing the places I have only read about.”

  Ben knew better than to bring up the fact that she could see those places, that if she thought her scars anchored her to Pritchford, she was wrong. But it was not his place. Throughout the walk, they had enjoyed a conversation, with an enthusiastic Jane jumping in now and then as she walked ahead and then came back around to the couple. He had been sure that he would not renew his advances toward her, but his heart was softening every time he glanced upon her. As their conversation continued, he began to imagine a future where they were able to not only debate with spirit but also share confidences and talk of all things.

  “It was wonderful…but I must admit…I could not forget the pleasures of home wherever I went,” he told her as they meandered. In fact, he had imagined her walking the rainy streets of Paris. He had even woken from a dream where he reached for her beside him in bed as the Roman sun had poured through the windows. In the dream, they were on their honeymoon, and he’d awakened with grief, because the last time they spoke, he’d learned of her poor opinion of him.

  But now… if there was anyone that he would marry, though the idea of matrimony still frightened him, it must be her. If there was anyone he would like to wake up beside on a honeymoon, stretching their limbs in the Roman sun, it would be Cat.

  Jane pranced in front of them, diverting his attention. “I think that if I had born at a different time, I would be a great explorer. But I would always come home, no matter what,” she announced.

  “I think that is a fine maxim,” Ben replied.

  “My sister has always taught me the importance of loyalty,” she continued and then wandered off in front of Cat and Ben, who continued to walk. The closer they grew to the Watson home, the slower their steps grew.

  Cat smiled to herself, realizing Ben was watching her. “Do you regret that you had to return from such a trip early? Doesn’t it normally take two to three years to complete?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She did not know if the rumors of his father’s health were true, but she did know that something serious had to cause the inconvenience and the expense to return home from his Grand Tour. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I did not think. And I do not mean to pry. Please forgive me.”

  “There is no need to apologize, Miss Watson. It is true that my father’s health is failing, but you are not prying. I… I find sharing things with you almost too easy,” he admitted, afraid he had said too much. But in doing so, he had an epiphany. He must try again with her. She was more than worthy of it.

  “I regret the reason I returned, but there are things in Pritchford that I could not leave behind, no matter how far I traveled.” This time, when he turned his head toward her, she returned his look. It was a heated gaze, and somehow they were both certain they were both remembering that moment when they trembled together in the garden, his hands on her waist, their bodies brushing, his lips a whisper on her own.

  Her cheeks heated, and she had to return her eyes to the horizon. “I am sure you were greatly missed by your family,” she offered.

  They stepped on the lane to her home, and he had never been sorrier to actually reach a destination. They walked a few more steps silently before he stopped a few meters from her doorstep. He inclined his head toward her and said in a murmur for her ears alone, “I must confess, despite events before I left, I wondered if I was missed by anyone other than my family.”

  Cat looked up at him. The sun was at his back, and he looked like a gilded prince. She wondered what his hair felt like, what it would be like to run her hand along his cheek. What if she were to admit to him that she had thought of him? Could she be so bold? She opened her mouth to speak.

  Her father met them at the door and interrupted whatever it was that she was going to say. Inwardly, Ben cursed.

  “I was worried,” Mr. Watson announced before noticing Lord Benjamin. “Excuse me, Lord Benjamin. It’s only I expected my daughters home earlier.”

  “Papa,” Catherine murmured, touching the sleeve of his overcoat. “We are fine. I am fine. I promise.”

  “I apologize, Mr. Watson. It’s my fault,” Lord Benjamin said. Catherine appreciated the gallantry, even though the blame was far from his. They had taken the long way, prolonging their time on the walk. She couldn’t remember who had decided to take that route, but she also could not deny that she would have gone on talking with him for much longer. She never would have imagined that they could converse so or that being in his company would both bring her comfort and a sense of longing that snaked through her belly.

  She could not continue to hold the moment when he had stared at her scars against him even if she wanted to, as her entire impression of him was altered. And it no longer bothered her that he was a part of the night she dreaded thinking of most, because he had been kind-hearted and compassionate, a ray of sunlight in the darkest moments.

  She hated to think of the words that had passed between them last year, especially her part. But she could not regret rejecting the idea of a courtship between them. Her motivations had been all wrong, but she had still been correct. For he could do so much better. Her place was at home, taking care of Jane until she was old enough to be out in society and married. Cat could never leave her father alone either.

  While it was true that before the fire, Cat dreamt of Prince Charming and brave knights rescuing her, a real disaster had changed all that. She knew there would no handsome prince in her future. Sometimes she thought that God must have sent her knight early in life and that person was whoever had mysteriously rescued her. Perhaps one was only entitled to one happily ever after, and if that was true, she was thankf
ul that hers was her survival.

  Jane jumped up to hug her father around the waist. “Benjamin was telling us… I mean, Lord Benjamin was telling us all about his travels. Oh, Papa! He’s been to Paris and Rome. He saw where the gladiators used to fight. He saw the forum where Julius Cesar was killed, although it is in ruins now. Isn’t that the most wonderful thing you’ve ever heard?”

  Mr. Watson smiled at Catherine and Benjamin, who remained framed in the doorway together. “It does sound exciting, Janie.”

  “But he had to come back early,” Jane explained, as if her father did not already know. “Because his father is very ill. He’ll be all right, won’t he, Papa? It won’t be like Mama, will it?”

  “Come, Jane,” Catherine murmured with an apologetic glance at Benjamin. Unlike her little sister, she understood how serious his father’s illness had to be for Benjamin to cut such a grand trip short. “Let’s get you out of those muddy skirts and find some way to resurrect them.”

  Benjamin smiled faintly as Catherine murmured her goodbye and Jane waved enthusiastically. He felt a pain in his chest as soon as Cat left his company.

  “Mr. Watson, I was wondering if I could speak to you privately,” Benjamin asked. He swallowed nervously, which wasn’t his habit. He always appeared confident. Perhaps that was his downfall, and in this way, he and Catherine were polar opposites. Or maybe they were the same. Maybe her scars left her feeling as if all she had left was her pride. But something had changed between them on that walk and the year they had been apart. That could not be denied. And so he made a decision.

  Mr. Watson lowered his eyebrows. “Is this about what we discussed the last time we spoke?”

  Benjamin looked down at his boots. “Yes. It is.”

  They went back to the library, the scene of the original conversation. “Though you have my apologies, Lord Benjamin, as I think very highly of you, I thought my daughter answered you on the subject.”

  Benjamin nodded. “It’s true that she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in courtship. But I also believe… I believe she thinks it was some kind of joke at her expense. She didn’t think I was serious. She doesn’t…” He gestured as he struggled to be articulate, his brown eyes earnest. “She doesn’t believe that someone like me could really want to court her. That’s not what I believe, Mr. Watson. Or what I feel. But after thinking about our conversation for the last year, I worry she finds herself lacking when I find her to be nothing of the kind. I believe that her feelings may have altered in the last year.”

  Mr. Watson nodded. “Your characterization of her feelings is accurate based on what she told me and how well I know my daughter.” He squeezed his eyes shut briefly with emotion. “You see, I think she is the most wonderful, beautiful girl, and any man would be fortunate to have her. But she doesn’t see it that way. And this is the one subject she is quite stubborn about. But you say you believe her feelings have changed on the subject?”

  “I have hope that they have after speaking with her,” Benjamin admitted. Never, in all his imaginings, had he considered that this day would end this way. “That’s why I am asking for your permission to ask her again,” Benjamin said slowly, aware that Mr. Watson could easily rebuff him. After all, Catherine had already said no once. “So, may I, Mr. Watson? Do I have permission to ask Miss Watson if I may court her?”

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  8

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  What had she done?

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  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Asked, Answered, Aching, and Arson

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  This time, when Mr. Watson invited Lord Benjamin to dinner, Cat’s feelings were very different. Though they were still a mixture inside of her, there was no dread. In fact, she looked forward to seeing him again with a fluttering heart, though she had no right to feel that way. She had, after all, rejected him and she still believed that he would find some perfect, darling London girl to be his future countess. She prayed each night that any romantic feelings she felt toward him would be changed into friendship because she truly did believe he was a good man.

  Before she knew it, the night of dinner was upon them. It was a splendid night, filled with laughter and good conversation. Cat thought she might be a little sad since the last time they broke bread together had been the night her mother fell ill. But the conversation flowed, and Lord Benjamin had been so charming. Afterward, they all gathered in the sitting room as Jane played the pianoforte. But eventually the night grew late.

  “Cat,” her father said as dusk began to fall. “Will you please walk Lord Benjamin to the door?”

  She nodded demurely, though she wondered why her father would ask such a thing. Benjamin followed her to the door as Green went for his greatcoat. “Thank you so much for this wonderful evening,” Benjamin told her as they faced one another, the candlelight flickering over their faces.

  “We must thank you,” she insisted. “You have entertained us so.”

  Benjamin took a breath, stepping nearer to her. “Miss Watson. There is something else I wish to speak to you about.”

  She could not help but raise her eyes to meet his, and in the glow of the candles, she could not look away. She felt as if the very air was heavy, and if she could have, she would have rested her head on his chest. She told herself that he could not be asking what it seemed, not after the abominable way she treated him last year. But a part of her hoped that he would ask again, and she hated that part of her because she knew she could never accept him, no matter how her heart felt. “Yes, my Lord?” she replied after she swallowed.

  “I wish you would call me Ben, and if not Ben, then at least Benjamin,” he murmured, moving nearer to her.

  She felt spellbound. “I cannot.”

  He reached for her hand, pulling her closer, and she went willingly into his arms. “Just once?” he asked in a whisper against her ear. “Just when it us two here, in the time between day and night.”

  She let out a shuddering breath. She knew it was wrong, that she was giving him an unfair impression, but there was an aching in her stomach. She felt lightheaded. “Benjamin,” she said softly. She looked up at him then, their eyes meeting. His chocolate eyes filled with intensity at the sound of his name on her tongue.

  He thought she looked like an angel, her hair glowing in the candlelight, her blue eyes bright with a longing that matched his own. It took every bit of self-control not to lean forward and press his lips to hers. But he had not yet asked her the most important question. She closed her eyes briefly and then stared at him. “Ben,” she whispered.

  He did not kiss her, but he took a hold of both of her arms just below her capped sleeves so he could feel her skin. “I know you made your feelings perfectly clear last year in regards to me. But I must know… have they changed? Would you ever consider accepting the idea of a courtship?” He paused and let out a shuddering breath. “I feel… I cannot imagine not spending time in your presence. I…” He chose his words carefully. “I esteem you above all others. You must know this.”

  Her breath came out in a puff before she bit her lip nervously. She did not move away from his hold, and she still met his gaze. “Oh, Lord Benjamin,” she replied with some regret.

  “Ben,” he entreated.

  She shook her head briefly. “You asked me to only call you that once, but now we must return to the real world.” Did he imagine tears sparkling in her eyes before she squeezed her eyes shut, opening them again to bravely meet his? “I cannot explain how very much I regret the words I used last year or the way I treated you. I apologize from the bottom of my heart. You are a good man, and I believe you to be honest. I misjudged you and acted poorly.” He felt hope bloom at her words but then wilt when her eyes met his again. “But the fact remains that it would not be right for you to court me, considering everything.”

  He knew time was short, that the maid wou
ld be returning with his overcoat at any moment, but he had to know. “What are you asking me to consider? Please explain why we cannot be together,” he asked as he pulled her closer. Without thought, her hands came to lay on his chest.

  “I know you have seen my scars. I know you noticed them the first time we met on the street,” she began as her voice trembled. “So, you know that I am… not damaged but certainly not fit for the likes of you. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  “But it wasn’t the first time we met,” he blurted, his hands moving to her waist as their bodies brushed against one another. “I saw you on the night of the fire. We spoke. When I saw your scars again, I was just putting together a memory that I have never been able to forget.”

  “Because you could never forget my deformities,” she assumed. There was no self-pity in her voice. She bit her lip because the only thing she felt was regret that she could not accept him. “How could you forget them? Please, do not believe that I think badly of you for that.”

  “No,” he cried, his hands clutching her to him. She must believe him. “It was your bravery that has stayed with me all this time. And to know you now… You have completely enchanted me. I have never asked to court another, and I do not want to ask another. There is only you. Please…” The last entreaty was whispered as he stared at her lips.

  She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, he could see unshed tears. “That’s so kind of you to say. Once upon a time, before the fire, this would have been a dream come true. You are a good man, whom I respect a great deal. And even now, I wish… But I truly believe that God allowed that to happen to me so that my place would be with my family.” She could not help looking at his lips. “I feel… Well, it would not be fair for me to speak of my feelings for you, not when I must deny…”