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One Room at the Inn (The Lords of Eton Book 4)

Page 6

by Cheryl Bolen


  “Philip.”

  “Goodnight, Philip.”

  “Goodnight, love,” he whispered.

  How could a man sleep when he’d just turned down what would have been the most spectacular lovemaking of a lifetime? God, but he throbbed for Charlotte. He’d been immensely attracted to her since he’d taken a really good look at her under the bright lights at the Lamb and Staff the previous night.

  It wasn’t just her undeniable beauty that had him thinking and acting like a schoolboy blindsided by his first love. It was every facet of this remarkable woman. Her affection for her children, the good manners she’d instilled in them at so young an age, her obvious good breeding, her innate intelligence, and now . . . his breath grew short just remembering the searing passion she’d unleashed. For him.

  No gift had ever been more precious.

  This was not a woman who bestowed such favors lightly. He’d somehow managed to win her affection, and for that he was profoundly grateful. There was nothing on earth he wouldn’t do to be worthy of her.

  He lay for hours beneath the thick counterpane, the fire simmering in the grate, wind howling beyond the casements. He kept having to tuck the quilt around his feet, which hung off the sofa, owing to his height. It was a wonder he had the sense to think of any discomfort when Charlotte dominated his thoughts so thoroughly.

  Above everything, he was steeped in a contentment unlike anything he had ever experienced. Knowing Charlotte, Eddie, and Susan slept peacefully just feet away filled him with deep satisfaction. He wanted to take care of them. He wanted to protect them and love them.

  And before he fell asleep he thought of something he must do.

  They all slept late on Christmas Eve and awakened to a sunny morning. Eddie was particularly delighted to find that Philip Fenton had stayed the night in their chambers. Charlotte was happy that her children had a man to look up to. They had few memories of their own father, and it would do Eddie good to be around a man, especially a man who’d been a soldier.

  Breakfast came at half past eight, and the four of them sat around the oak table laden with offerings. She sighed when she wistfully thought it would appear to an outsider that they were a family.

  She nibbled at her toast in silence. It was difficult to look at Philip. She was still embarrassed over her wantonness of the night before. What had come over her to initiate such brazen behavior? Her cheeks burned at the memory of his mouth closing over her bare breast, of the memory of her hand closing over his huge erection. Yet, even the thought made her tingle low in her torso. I cannot look at this man.

  It had taken her a very long time to go to sleep. Philip was such a paradox. On one hand, his rejection had humiliated her. Then, he had done an about-face when he told her how much he admired her and that there was no other woman with whom he’d want to be stranded. She was powerless to interpret his meaning.

  Yet, at the same time, she admired him. I have never broken a promise. How many men could lay claim to such a statement?

  As she had lain in the bed, she admitted to herself she thought she had actually fallen in love with Philip Fenton. Which made her feel like a fool. How could one possibly know one was in love with someone after less than two days in his company?

  She had known with Edward. She knew the night she met him.

  The pity of it was, she trusted her instincts completely. Philip was a noble man. A pity he couldn’t love her as a man loves a woman. Had he, he would have made love to her last night. Philip was merely a good man who had taken pity on a widow with young children, a widow who happened to be in possession of beauty. Nothing more. Someone to stave off the boredom of the solitude he hated.

  “So,” Philip said to no one in particular in that cheerful manner of his, “it looks as if we’re going to be spending one more day at the good ol’ White Lion Inn. What shall we do on this Christmas Eve?”

  “Can I go and visit our horsies again?” Eddie asked. “I want to see if I can member how to harness them.”

  “I don’t see why you can’t,” Philip answered.

  “And I want to play the guessing game again,” Susan said.

  Charlotte smiled upon her daughter. “But, love, you guessed everything in both chambers yesterday.”

  “Your mother’s right. I shall have to think of another kind of guessing game for you. My sister was very resourceful at coming up with those games to entertain me when I was a lad.”

  “What does wesourceful mean?” Eddie asked.

  For once, the elder sister was unable to supply an answer but also looked to Mr. Fenton for a response.

  “It means . . . well, it means she was very good at finding new things,” he answered.

  “Mama is very good at everything, too.” Eddie threw a satisfied glance at his mother.

  “Why, thank you, my darling.”

  “Your mother is, indeed, good at everything. You children are very fortunate.”

  For the first time that morning she allowed her eyes to meet Philip’s. Her heartbeat exploded at the affection in his black eyes, the softness in his voice. No caress could have been more tender. It was difficult to look away, difficult to think, certainly to respond.

  Eddie spared her from having to. “I finished my bweakfast. When can I go see the horsies?”

  Charlotte raised a brow. “I see unfinished toast on your plate, young man. I suggest you finish that, as well as your glass of milk before you can be permitted to go to the stables.”

  He pouted.

  “And,” Charlotte added, “can’t you see Mr. Fenton is still eating?”

  “Mr. Fenton eats a great deal,” Susan commented, watching him with rounded eyes.

  Philip and Charlotte exchanged amused expressions. “Indeed he does,” Charlotte said, “but you must have noticed, he’s a very large man.” Just thinking of that tall, handsome frame sent her heart fluttering. She hadn’t felt this way since the summer she turned eighteen. She hadn’t expected to experience anything like it ever again.

  When he finished breakfast, Philip disappointed her when he told her he would take the children to the stables himself. He doesn’t want to be alone with me. More humiliation.

  They were gone for more than an hour, and the coachman—not Philip—returned the children. She panicked. “Where’s Mr. Fenton?” Good lord, had she been totally wrong about him? Had he deserted them?

  “He wanted to get his things from the Lamb and Staff and settle his bill there himself. He said he wants to be with the children on Christmas Eve.”

  She went weak with relief.

  It was noon by the time he returned to an eager welcoming party of two children happily climbing upon him, hugging his legs and wanting to be carried by him. “Mr. Fenton gave us piggy-back rides. Can we have them again?” Susan asked.

  “Of course, you can. I’m your pig to command, but only one at a time.” He stooped down to one knee. “Ladies first.”

  Eddie pouted.

  Charlotte felt like laughing.

  Piggy-back rides continued until poor Philip was exhausted. The children would never have tired of them, but Charlotte had to put a stop to the rides. “It’s time we give the poor, overgrown pig some rest. Perhaps then he can be resourceful and think of some more questioning games for you children to play.” What they might be, she could not imagine. He’d already been more resourceful than she had ever been. She most certainly owed thanks to his sister and wondered if she would ever meet Georgiana.

  Philip plopped on the sofa. “Permit the pig to think.” The children giggled.

  She poured him a glass of Madeira, and when she handed it to him, his hand covered hers briefly. He looked into her eyes and said, “Thank you, love.”

  She could have swooned.

  “I’ve got it,” Philip finally said. “I shall ask simple questions. For example, things like what barnyard animal lays eggs?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Eddie said. “Chickies.”

  “You’re not sposed to ans
wer yet, dummy. The game hasn’t started.”

  “Susan!” Charlotte growled. “What did I tell you yesterday?”

  The little girl eyed her brother. “I’m sowwy I called you dummy.”

  Charlotte shook her head.

  The game started with questions about animals and moved to objects like wheels and hats, and again the children were evenly matched. Charlotte marveled at Philip’s resourcefulness. More than that, she wondered how many handsome young bachelors would be spending their time amusing small children who were in no way related to them. Other men in his predicament would be whiling away their time down in the tap room.

  He truly was a noble man.

  Today’s game lasted longer than the game of the previous day because the number of objects was limitless. Since the days grew so short at this time of year—darkness came at fifteen minutes past four—dinner was served early.

  After dinner they sat around the fire. The children looked tired. “We have a custom in my family,” Philip told them. “On Christmas Eve, the children receive a present.”

  The children’s eyes rounded.

  Philip got up and moved to the valise he’d brought to the room that afternoon. “I have a present for each of you.”

  Charlotte nearly cried with joy as her children shrieked and excitedly jumped up and down.

  First he took out a doll and handed it to Susan. “I know it’s not Augusta, but I hope you will come to love her as you loved Augusta.”

  Susan’s mouth gaped open. “She looks just like Augusta, doesn’t she, Mama?”

  By now, tears trickled down Charlotte’s face. “Exactly, my love. What a wonderful gift.”

  “And for you, Master Eddie,” Philip said as he crossed the chamber and pulled out a box, “I’ve got a set of tin soldiers.”

  Eddie couldn’t wait for Philip to return to the sofa but met him half way. “Open it! I want to see my soldiers!”

  Within a minute, the lad had lined up the soldiers on the wooden floor beyond the circular rug in the center of the room and was making sounds of cannons firing.

  His sister happily played an imaginary game with her doll, and Philip and Charlotte sat next to each other on the sofa in front of the fire, sipping their wine in utter contentment.

  “I don’t have a present for you,” he said.

  “Nothing could have pleased me more than what you’ve done here tonight. How did you contrive it?”

  “To be honest, I cannot take credit. I had purchased those items for the children I was not able to find in London.”

  “The children of the dead officer you served with in the Peninsula?”

  His face grim, he nodded.

  She placed her hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to find them. I’m sorry for them. And for you. I know how it affects a good man like you.”

  He covered her hand with his. “When do you think those children will ever go to bed?” he whispered in a husky voice. “I have a great need to speak alone to their mother.”

  Her heartbeat stampeded. “I think I can get Susan to bed with Augusta with no problem. Eddie may be more difficult. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s in the middle of an elaborate battle right now.”

  “Let me try.”

  Philip got up and went to kneel by the lad. “Time to go to bed, Officer Leeming. Your men can’t fight in the dark.”

  Eddie pouted. “But I want to keep fighting.”

  “If you go to bed now, I promise in the morning, I’ll play soldiers with you.”

  The boy’s face brightened. “Pwomise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Can I take some of my soldiers to bed?”

  “Of course.”

  Charlotte got her children ready for bed, lovingly tucked them in, and returned to the man she had fallen in love with.

  As soon as she closed the door behind her, he met her with a tender kiss. “My dearest Charlotte, there’s something I need to tell you, something I need to ask you.”

  Oh, dear God, was he going to ask for her hand in marriage? She shook her head. “I haven’t been honest with you,” she blurted out.

  “Good Lord, please don’t tell me you’re married.” He looked wounded.

  “No, not that. Come, let’s sit down.”

  Chapter 7

  He wanted to put his arm around her when they sat on the sofa, but she stiffened and put several inches between them. “I’m afraid that when you know the truth about me, my dear Philip, any tender feelings you might possess toward me now will be destroyed.”

  His finger twirled a tendril of hair that fell loosely about her lovely face. He couldn’t imagine her doing anything that would destroy his feelings for her. “Impossible.”

  She held up a palm. “Hear me out.” She drew a deep breath. “Do you remember the night we met on Chappell Street and you called out Mrs. Hale, and I turned around?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s because I am Mrs. Hale. I lied when I said I was Mrs. Leeming.”

  His brows lowered. “Why did you lie?”

  “I thought you’d come to arrest me.”

  He shook his head and started to laugh.

  She put hands to hips and glared. “I fail to see anything funny about that.”

  “Why, my dear, dear woman, would anyone want to arrest you?”

  “Because I’d just been seen stealing a coat for Eddie on The Strand.”

  “I see. And you thought I was a magistrate?”

  “Or something of the sort.”

  Now he was the one to draw a deep breath. “My God, I wasn’t too late.”

  A puzzled look arched her face. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re the family I came to see in London. Your children are the ones for whom I bought the toys. I promised Edward I would look after you. You cannot imagine my despair when I learned you’d been evicted.”

  She looked incredulous. “You knew that, too?”

  He nodded. “I was going to pay up your rents for the foreseeable future—and I told that deplorable landlady so, too.”

  He scooted closer and took her hand. “I’m sorry you had to steal a coat to keep your son warm, but any mother would have done the same on a cold night like that. It was that or let him die of the elements. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.” He brought her hand to his lips. “It will be my pleasure to repay that shop on The Strand.”

  For the second time that night, tears seeped from her eyes. She’d never been lovelier.

  “Now, my love, I have a confession to make to you,” he said. “I think a man should be completely honest with a woman he means to marry. Do you think you could marry me if you knew I am known as Lord Philip Fenton, the second son of the late Marquess of Hartworth? My brother now holds the title.”

  “I have never aspired to marry into an aristocratic family, but I would marry you, Lord Philip Fenton, were you a footman in your brother’s house.”

  “I’m going to kiss you again, my dearest love, but as a gentleman, I will not make love to you until we marry, but rest assured we will be man and wife before the week is out. Once these roads are dry I aim to procure a special license and marry in haste. We’ll honeymoon at Gosingham Hall where I’ll introduce you to my family.”

  Her eyes widened. “Gosingham Hall?”

  “Yes. Georgiana lives there.”

  “But that’s where I was going. . . Of course, the Duchess of Fordham’s your sister. You sent her to me after Edward’s death. She’s the only person who was kind to me after I was widowed. She told me if I was ever in despair, to come to her.”

  “So that’s why you were going to Lincolnshire. Oh, my love, I give you my word, you will never again be in despair.”

  The sun continued on Christmas Day, the happiest Charlotte could ever remember. Her dear Philip had no problem procuring a special license, especially once he began using his title Lord Philip Fenton. They married the morning of December 26 in St. Edmundsbury Cathedral with the coac
hman and a parlor maid standing up with them, and Eddie and Susan sitting in the front pew with wide smiles on their faces.

  Immediately after the ceremony, they left in their coach for Lincolnshire as the roads had dried sufficiently for them to continue on their journey. She now looked upon the storm she had initially deemed wretched luck as the most fortunate blessing of her life—save the births of her children—for it had enabled Philip and her to fall in love.

  An hour after night fell, they reached Lincolnshire’s most magnificent country home, Gosingham Hall. It was too dark for her to tell much about it, but its silhouette against the moonlit sky almost frightened her with its enormous scale. She’d never seen so large a house. It must possess several hundred rooms. Would she be an embarrassment to Philip? Did she belong with these exalted peers of the realm?

  “Will there be other noblemen here?” she asked her husband.

  “Oh, yes. My brother-in-law, the Duke of Fordham, goes nowhere without what he refers to as the Lords of Eton, the other two fellows who have been his best friends since they were lads at Eton. All three now serve in Parliament together—and all three are . . .“

  “Well-known Whigs. I read about them whenever I can get my hands on a newspaper.”

  “I knew my bride was well informed.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “They’re fine men. I really don’t know Lord Wycliff, owing to the fact he disappeared from England for many years following his parents’ death. He somehow managed to recover their lost fortunes. But the other two are very fine men. I’m very happy for Georgiana. She waited a long time to find her true love. I know you’ll love them, and they’ll love you.”

  “I hope your mother doesn’t object to you arriving with a new family in tow.”

  “She will be delighted with your children’s lovely manners—something her own Hellions do not possess.”

  “I’m at least relieved you sent a courier ahead with a letter to announce your nuptials. Arriving with a new family of four might have sent your poor mother into apoplexy all over again.”

 

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