Lady Charlotte's First Love

by Anna Bradley

  Dear God. His expression. Charlotte blinked blindly down at her cards to avoid the look of cold disgust on his face. Perhaps she deserved his loathing for being so weak, for hurting her family.

  But I can’t go back there…

  “Shocking, isn’t it?” She forced the words past the lump in her throat. “I can’t imagine why you bother with me at all. Why not leave me in London to suffer the consequences of my wicked behavior?”

  “That’s not my decision to make. Or yours either, as it happens.”

  She made herself smile, but her face felt stiff, as if she still wore the mask from the brothel. “Forgive me if I don’t take your threats seriously, Captain. I’ve heard this all before, you see.”

  “Not from me.”

  “No, but what makes you any different than the others? Why should you succeed when they’ve failed?”

  How far will you go, Julian?

  But his answer didn’t matter, did it? Because as far as he’d go, she’d go further, just as she’d done in the brothel the other night. As far as she must.

  Julian tossed three cards on the table and drew from the talon. “Point of five.”

  Charlotte barely glanced at her own cards. “Good.”

  Julian declared quint, then sixiême, and recorded his points on a slip of paper. “You’re going to lose, my lady.”

  “The game has just begun, Captain.”

  He shrugged and drew from the talon to replace his discarded cards. “I had an illuminating chat with your friend the Comtesse this evening. Did you know that, Lady Hadley? She was quite forthcoming when I asked about your plans tonight. It took no more than a minute or two to get this address from her.”

  Charlotte’s cards swam in front of her eyes. It was just as she’d suspected. He planned to charm her friends to get to her—to make her endure his company until he made London so intolerable she had no choice but to flee the city. And what then? She had no place left to go except to Bellwood, or worse, Hadley House.

  Her heart began a panicked thrashing in her chest, but she forced herself to lay a card calmly on the table. “Point of two.”

  “Not good, Lady Hadley.”

  She declared a tierce, then a trio, both of which were discounted in favor of his cards. “Perhaps the Comtesse won’t be so accommodating the next time.”

  “Perhaps not, but she was quite sympathetic when I told her about our past tragic love affair. She kept babbling about something—a wicked widow and a war hero, I think it was. She became rather breathless with the romance of it. It’s curious, Lady Hadley, but she seems to think a reconciliation might take place between us. Now, where do you think she got such an idea?”

  Panic welled in Charlotte’s throat, nauseating her.

  I’ll go as far as Julian will, as far as I must.

  But she knew the words were a lie, because she could never go as far as he had tonight. To use what had once been such a tender love between them to tantalize her friends with the promise of a reconciliation that would never happen—such ruthlessness, such heartlessness stunned her.

  Dear God, what had happened to him? She searched his impassive face, his cold dark eyes for the barest hint of the man he’d once been, but there was nothing there.

  A chill settled over her heart. She didn’t recognize him.

  Words formed on her lips, but before she could choke them out he spoke again. “The game is over, my lady.” He spread his cards across the table. “One hundred points. May I see your cards?”

  Charlotte lowered her cards to the table, her hands shaking.

  Julian glanced at them and made a disappointed noise in his throat. “Pity. You’re unlucky tonight. Or perhaps piquet isn’t your game after all?”

  She looked at the cards arranged on the table, but she couldn’t make sense of them. “The score?”

  “You owe me two hundred ten guineas, my lady.”

  Charlotte groped inside her reticule with numb fingers. “My vowels—”

  Julian grasped her hand, trapping it inside her reticule. “I don’t think so, Lady Hadley. I’ll have your coins now, if you please.”

  Charlotte stared at him. “You’re mad. Do you think I’d carry two hundred ten guineas in my reticule?”

  He didn’t let go of her hand. “I’m afraid that’s not my problem, but as I see you’re in a predicament, I might be willing to forgive the debt entirely. In exchange for a promise from you, that is.”

  A promise. To leave London, or something equally impossible. She didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.

  Her face must have shown her distress, for all of a sudden she saw Devon striding across the room toward her, his mouth set in a hard line. She half rose to meet him, but Julian tightened his grip on her hand.

  And that’s when she felt them, the hard stones slick and cool between her fingers.

  Her choker.

  She jerked hard against Julian’s grasp. Her sudden movement must have surprised him, because he released her. She seized the heavy gold filigreed clasp, drew the choker from her reticule, and tossed it onto the table. It landed with a dull thud between them, the deep purple stones glittering in the muted light.

  Julian stared at it for a moment, then raised his gaze to her face.

  Devon had reached her chair, and he let out a low whistle. “You’d part with Hadley’s jewels?”

  “No. They’re not Hadley’s. They’re mine.” Charlotte never dropped her gaze from Julian’s face. “A gift.”

  “You brought jewels to wager?” Julian’s voice was oddly hushed, his face unreadable.

  “No. I intended to wear the choker tonight, Captain. I adore it, you see. It’s one of my favorite pieces. Take it.” She rose to her feet. Her knees were shaking, but just a little bit. “It’s worth far more than two hundred ten guineas, but far less than a promise from me.”

  From the corner of her eye Charlotte saw Annabel, Lissie, and Aurelie staring at her from the other side of the Hazard table, their mouths open in shock, but strangely no one followed her when she turned and left the room. Not her friends. Not Devon.

  Certainly not Julian.

  Perhaps they thought she’d only go far enough to find a quiet space to calm herself, but within seconds she was in the tiny courtyard. She ducked into a shallow recessed doorway, pressed her back against the rough stone wall, and drew great gulping breaths of air into her lungs.

  There was no calm to be found in that house. No peace. Every day there were fewer places for her to run to, and if Julian had his way, if he managed to persuade her friends…

  There would be no peace for her in anywhere in London.

  Chapter Nine

  Julian stared at the necklace coiled on the table in front of him and waited for it to rear up, spitting and hissing, and sink its poisoned fangs into his wrist.

  Devon pushed it toward him with one finger. “You heard the lady, Captain. Why don’t you take your winnings?”

  Why, indeed? She’d wagered and she’d lost. The necklace was his now.

  “Lady Hadley’s debt to you is settled whether you take it or not.” Underlying Devon’s polite tone was a note of cold warning. “She owes you nothing now.”

  You’re going to lose, Lady Hadley.

  But she hadn’t, because he didn’t want her money, her vowels, or her jewels. All he wanted was her promise, but he hadn’t realized its worth until she tossed her necklace onto the table as if her word was more precious than gold and amethysts.

  Perhaps it was.

  But the necklace—it was nothing more than a diversion, a glittering consolation prize. Julian couldn’t bring himself to touch the thing.

  Devon didn’t have such scruples. When Julian made no move to take the necklace, he reached for it himself. Before he could grasp it, however, a slim hand plucked it up from the table.

/>   Julian looked up. Lady Tallant was looking down at him, her blue eyes measuring. She cradled the necklace in her hand—the amethysts winked up at him from the center of her white, kid-gloved palm. “Hold out your hand, Captain West.”

  Strangely, he didn’t think to disobey, but simply held out his hand. Lady Tallant dropped the necklace into his palm, and he closed his fingers instinctively around it. The stones were still warm.

  She turned to Devon. “My lord. May I have a word?” She took Devon’s arm and led him away, but before they disappeared into the knot of people around the Hazard table she shot a quick, meaningful glance at Julian and gestured with her chin toward the door.

  Was she ordering him to leave, or—

  All at once he understood. Lady Tallant knew Devon would go after Charlotte, and for some inexplicable reason she wanted Julian to get to her friend first.

  It was what an infatuated swain would do, and as far as the widows knew, he was the infatuated swain in this scenario. Besotted gentlemen didn’t snatch their beloved’s jewels as forfeit for a wager, and then sit and stare stupidly at those jewels while their lady dashed off into the night, alone and unprotected. They charged after her, begged her forgiveness, and wrapped the ill-gotten jewels around her alabaster neck.

  He lurched to his feet, stuffed the necklace into his waistcoat pocket next to Colin’s watch, and stumbled to the door. He looked back once before it closed behind him. Devon hadn’t yet emerged from the drawing room, but Julian had seen the man’s face when Charlotte fled the room. Lady Tallant wouldn’t be able to hold him for long.

  The courtyard was empty. No doubt Charlotte was halfway to her carriage by now. Even if he did manage to catch her, Devon would be upon them in mere minutes, and—

  Julian went still, listening. If the courtyard hadn’t been so silent, he would have missed it, a quiet gasp for breath, or a muffled sob. There was an alcove to his left, a doorway set deep into the wall. He crept forward, his shadow growing blacker and more monstrous against the building as he edged closer and closer.

  Charlotte darted from the alcove in a whirl of purple skirts and leapt for the narrow passageway that let out onto the street, but Julian was faster. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her back into the recess. She twisted frantically in his grip, but he nudged his much larger body into hers to hold her against the wall.

  “Captain West! Have you gone mad? Release me this instant.”

  “Quiet.” In another few seconds Devon would be in the courtyard, but there was a chance he’d pass right by them if only she’d stop shrieking.

  She shoved against his chest. “Dear God, you have gone mad. I will not be quiet—”

  He grasped her wrists and held them flat against the wall to still her.

  “Captain! You’re hurting me!”

  Julian instantly loosened his hold, but he slid one hand up her arm and wrapped his fingers lightly around her elbow, where her gloves gave way to bare skin.

  “Let go of me,” she hissed. “You take this too far.”

  Damn it. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Your champion is about to charge out here to rescue you, my lady. It’ll be damn unpleasant if he finds us, as I don’t intend to relinquish you to his care.”

  That gave her pause. She went still, her eyes huge, dark pools above the hand he held over her mouth.

  Her mouth.

  In his haste Julian had left his gloves behind, and now her lips, soft and half open, were pressed against his bare hand, her warm breath teasing his palm. He stared down at her, a memory tickling at the edge of his consciousness, one so sweet it made him ache with loss.

  A moment with her, a lifetime ago, the night like dark velvet wrapped around them, and the sky above heavy with stars. She’d taken his hand in hers and pressed her lips against his palm, and he’d gone half mad with wanting her, loving her.

  He closed his eyes against the feel of her lips against his skin, at the sight of her chest heaving within her tight bodice, but she was close, so close he no sooner denied one sensation than others overwhelmed him. Her shallow, panting breaths became deafening, her sweet lemon scent so intense he could taste it on his tongue. He moved into her, so his body pressed into hers, her breasts flat against his chest, and for a fleeting moment he felt everything he thought he’d lost forever.

  He felt her.

  On the other side of the courtyard a door opened, and the low murmur of voices reached them from the passageway beyond. Julian dimly registered the rustle of silk skirts, a female voice calling something, the click of a man’s pumps against the stones, loud at first, then fading as he hurried through the passageway into the street beyond.

  The courtyard fell silent again. Devon had gone.

  Julian lifted his hand from her mouth and she drew in an unsteady breath, but neither of them said a word. She swallowed, and he rested his hand against her long, white throat to feel the movement.

  “I—what do you think you’re doing, dragging me in here?”

  “Hiding you from your lover.” His tongue wrapped around the word lover, his voice a low, hoarse whisper.

  “I don’t have a lover.” Her own whisper was so soft he had to lean closer to hear her.

  “Not yet, but you will. You’ll have Devon.”

  Deny it. Please.

  But she didn’t. She didn’t speak, only watched him with dark, fathomless eyes.

  He dragged his fingertips across her jaw and down her neck. “What will he do when he finds you’ve eluded him tonight?”

  Her throat moved against his palm again. “He doesn’t need to do anything. He’ll have another chance tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, my lady,” he murmured, stroking his thumb across her cheek. “I wouldn’t depend on it.”

  Her lashes brushed her cheeks, hid her eyes. “I don’t depend on anything or anyone but myself, Captain.”

  He touched a fingertip to her bottom lip. “I think you do. I think you depend on Devon. I think he’s the reason you won’t go home.”

  “Home?” She laughed, but her face paled. “Which home would that be? Grosvenor Square? Bellwood? Or all the way to Hampshire, to Hadley House?”

  She didn’t flinch from his touch, but stared back at him with eyes so wide and dark he could see his reflection mirrored in them. And the man who stared back… Who was he? For one moment he thought he might find Julian there, but the man who looked back at him was a stranger—a man he didn’t recognize.

  He stared down at her. He’d known her once—the sound of his name on her lips, the caress of her fingers against the back of his neck. He’d known what mattered to her, what made her laugh, what moved her, but now…

  Lady Hadley was as foreign to him as he was to himself. A stranger.

  That night under the stars was nothing but a memory, a moment from another man’s lifetime, and even if he could get it back, he wouldn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t have that kind of love inside him anymore. He’d traded it for a dark abyss of rage and regret.

  And she… He didn’t know what she’d traded her soul for, and he didn’t want to.

  He released her chin and backed away from her so their bodies were no longer touching. “Hampshire or Bellwood. Whichever you choose. It makes no difference where you go, as long as you leave London.”

  This time her laugh carried an edge of panic. “It makes a difference to me, and I choose neither.”

  “Neither. Now why would that be, Lady Hadley? I confess myself curious. Surely Hadley House is a grand estate, one befitting a lady of your elevated rank. A magnificent manor house, with sweeping grounds, I imagine?”

  Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Grand, yes—massive really, with rooms upon rooms upon rooms. It’s an estate without an end.”

  An unexpected shudder chased itself down Julian’s back at this description. She hadn�
��t said anything disparaging, but at the same time she made the place sound…disturbing. Sinister. It was all nonsense, of course, an absurd fancy of hers. Cam had told him Hadley House was one of England’s truly exceptional homes—the pride of Hampshire. Charlotte couldn’t have any reason not to return to it.

  “It sounds, ah, lovely.” It didn’t, but one lie deserved another. “But perhaps Bellwood suits you better. It would be the easiest thing in the world for you to travel there with Cam and Ellie at the end of next week, and stay through the winter.”

  Her face was expressionless. “Easier for who, Captain?”

  “For everyone concerned, but particularly for Ellie. She became nearly ill with distress when she saw Devon enter your box tonight. Her health is delicate right now, or had you forgotten that?”

  Her voice sounded small. “I’ve forgotten nothing, Julian.”

  Don’t say my name. Don’t make me feel.

  “You’ve shown no concern for your family, or made any attempt at self-restraint.”

  Her eyes went hard. “You have high ideals, Captain, for a man with a pocketful of jewels.”

  Her necklace felt as heavy against his chest as if he’d stolen it, but he managed a shrug. “Perhaps you shouldn’t wager what you can’t bear to lose.”

  A strange smile crossed her lips, then was gone in an instant. “I think you’d be surprised at what I can bear to lose.”

  He dragged a thumb across her lower lip as if he could catch that odd smile, hold it up to the light, and study it. “A few jewels in place of a promise. Why not promise me whatever I ask, and then break it tomorrow?”

  Again, that strange smile. “Because I’m not a liar.”

  They stared at each other until Charlotte looked away. “I imagine you wish to escort me to Grosvenor Square, to see I’m confined inside my house? Not out of any concern for me, of course, but because you told Ellie and Cam you would?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer, but edged to the side, careful not to touch him as she passed. He followed her out into the empty courtyard, through the passageway and down the street a short way to her waiting carriage. Once inside she tucked herself tightly into a corner and turned her face to the window.