Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord

by Tiffany Clare

  She really didn’t know what to say other than, “Thank you for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll see you in an hour. My brother will probably be up shortly to ready himself.”

  Charlotte nodded. Wasn’t there some superstition about the groom not seeing the bride before she walked down the aisle? She wouldn’t be walking down the aisle on her father’s arm, though. Too afraid to wrinkle the dress, knowing that it was Tristan’s mother’s, she stood in the middle of the room and counted the minutes that passed.

  So many thoughts flitted across her mind that her nerves were on edge as she stood there and waited. She could not leave the room to go and look for Tristan; this was not her house, though it would be in a few short hours.

  What would his children think of her? Or his servants who hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare for the change today was about to bring? What a muddle she’d put herself in. What a muddle she’d put Tristan in, for surely this was not the outcome he’d planned, either.

  She walked over to the tray of food that had been brought up for breakfast. She hadn’t touched it since eating those berries this morning, and though everything looked delicious, her stomach protested the idea of eating anything. She hated waiting.

  If Tristan didn’t come to see her, would he send Bea in to bring her down to the carriage? Would she have to go outside alone? She was breathing heavily, as though she’d just run for a sustained period of time. She didn’t like uncertainty, or this inability to predict what would happen next. She turned away from the food tray since it didn’t tempt her and instead focused on the closed bedchamber door.

  She needed to make the next move. It would give her a modicum of control.

  She stepped forward and tried to regulate her breathing. She was feeling a bit light-headed and that simply wouldn’t do. She lifted the handle on the door and paused when it clicked open. She closed her eyes and steeled herself for whatever was to come next. She could do this. She would do this. She pulled the door open slowly, waiting for the sounds of the house to fill her ears. Servants were rushing to and fro, a maid ran past her with an armful of linens.

  When Charlotte stepped out into the corridor, a footman was giving instructions to another maid. He looked at her after a short while, finished his instructions to the maid, then came toward her and bowed. “My lady. I’m Clarkson. How can I assist you?”

  “Where is your master?”

  “He’s with his valet.”

  “And where would I find him?”

  “He does not like to be disturbed while at his toilette.”

  His reluctance to answer her had her sticking out her chin. “Show me to him immediately.”

  He ducked his head. “Yes, my lady.” His arm pointed to the right. Charlotte preceded him in the direction he indicated. There were a number of doors at the top of the stairs, all facing the upper landing that looked down into the foyer. The floor was carpeted in a deep maroon, the walls papered with a heavy floral pattern. She counted six doors, including the one she’d come out of. That meant he’d taken a guest room while she’d been waiting for him.

  She turned to face the footman, who led her to the door closest to the landing.

  “In there?” she asked, feeling her resolve waver.

  He nodded and bowed again, taking a few steps back. She knocked and didn’t wait for an answer within before barging through the door. Tristan was in the middle of the room, shaving cream coating his face and neck with his valet standing behind him.

  “So eager to see me, my bride-to-be?”

  “No, but you left me alone and I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  He motioned to a chair. “Take a seat and wait out the hour with me while I get ready.”

  He looked her up and down before tilting his head back for his valet to rub the blade along his neck and jaw. “The dress fits you well,” he said when the valet wiped the blade on a towel folded neatly over his arm.

  She placed her hands over her midsection and sat on the edge of the chair. “We need to set some parameters for this marriage.”

  The scrape of the blade was the only sound in the room for a few more moments. When Tristan sat up, the valet passed him a damp towel that he used to wipe his face. “I don’t see why there have to be boundaries. You seem to forget that you came to me for help. And that is exactly what I’m doing.”

  “I realize that. But marriage wasn’t something either of us wanted.”

  “Yet I’ve gone to the trouble of getting a special license for the day.”

  “Tristan…” She needed to turn the topic to her father. “What will you say to my father?”

  “I will tell him it was necessary for us to marry. He’ll probably have already heard the news by the time we arrive back here.”

  “So quickly?”

  “How little you know of the seedier side of society. I guarantee you that the betting books will be filled with Ponsley residence gossip the moment we leave this house. First your cousin, and now you traveling with a man who is deemed untouchable for marriage.”

  “Untouchable?” A smile touched her lips.

  “In a sense.”

  “I never took you for a narcissist.”

  “I’d be disappointed if that’s how you viewed me.”

  He stood from his chair and started to release the buttons on his shirt. His valet came up behind him to assist in the removal of his clothes. Charlotte turned around, even though she’d familiarized herself with his body last night. She was sure her face was flame red beneath the spattering of freckles she had no way to cover this morning after her bath.

  “Dixon, leave us a moment, please,” Tristan said.

  The valet walked past her and out the door.

  “Charlotte.”

  “Yes.” She still couldn’t turn, unsure whether or not he was dressed.

  “Turn around and look at me. You weren’t shy last night.”

  “You’re indecent.”

  “I hope our marriage is full of indecency,” he said, a wickedness in his tone that sent her pulse racing.

  She spun on her heel, not in the least amused by his shamelessness. “You are being intentionally vulgar.”

  “Quite the contrary.”

  His shirt had been replaced, but it remained open and she could make out the dark trail of hair that led beneath the seam of his trousers where they sat on his hips. She swallowed and tore her gaze away from him.

  “Marriage will give us a lifetime to learn to understand each other.”

  “What are you hinting at?”

  He shrugged as he pushed the buttons through the holes on his shirt. “Just making an observation. We’re to be married in a few hours, my lady. You might want to get used to the idea of seeing me in a state of undress. My parents didn’t even take separate rooms.”

  “Lying together for one night does not mean you truly know me intimately.”

  He reached out and cupped her arms, giving her a steady look. “I would never expect to know you so thoroughly after one night, but I like to think I know you somewhat through our correspondence.”

  “This is all happening so fast, Tristan.”

  “I warned you last night.”

  “I couldn’t go home and face Mr. Warren another day.”

  He pulled her into a hug and caressed her back. “I’m glad you came to me last night.”

  “You’re taking this very well.” Her comment was muffled against his chest.

  “I’ve been thinking about it since you left. So I’ve had longer to come to terms with marriage than you.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked in a small voice.

  “There are a lot of reasons, some I can’t even explain.”

  She pulled away from him, feeling silly to have allowed his comforting embrace. “Try.”

  “You know my feelings toward Warren.”

  “Which you haven’t fully explained to me.” She walked farther into the room, and took a seat in one o
f the damask chairs next to the fireplace.

  He rubbed one hand through his hair and let out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry I can’t be more forthcoming. In time, perhaps.”

  “Why else, then?”

  “You remind me of a very dear friend.”

  “The Dowager Countess Fallon?”

  “The very one.”

  “But she’s your friend, and I can’t imagine you’d want to marry your friend.”

  He laughed. “I suppose not. And I didn’t mean because she was my friend, but because she has a larger-than-life personality.”

  She couldn’t hide her grin. “Larger than life?”

  “You’re simply the most beautiful, most frustrating, bold, and daring woman I’ve ever known.” He paced purposefully toward her, and lifted her chin with his hand. Charlotte swallowed back what she’d been about to say. Did he really think those things about her?

  “Now,” he said, releasing her. She missed the heat of his touch almost immediately and frowned down at her lap. Today felt unreal, like a dream she was about to wake up from at any moment. “You can either help me dress, or I’ll call Dixon back in here to assist.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know the first thing about men’s attire.”

  He smiled and went to open the chamber door and call his valet back in.

  Chapter 15

  The Archbishop of Canterbury received two visitors today before two o’clock. Would you believe that one of those gentlemen was Lord C____?

  —The Mayfair Chronicles, August 1846

  Bea had thought ahead and arranged to have an early dinner readied for their return. There was an array of food to select from, but no one seemed inclined to eat much, aside from Rowan. Tristan watched Charlotte, disturbed that she was visibly uncomfortable. She looked out of sorts, an expression he was not used to seeing on her. There was a small sliver of quail on her plate together with mixed vegetables. She pushed it around with her fork. Did she even like fowl? He couldn’t have a decent conversation with her in the carriage with Bea and the children sitting so close. It had been a long silent ride to the church.

  “Is there something more to your liking?” he asked, indicating the trays on the buffet along the back wall. Footmen and the butler stood ready to serve her whatever she wished.

  “It’s been a long, busy day and I find I have little interest in food at present.”

  He couldn’t agree more, since he ate without really tasting his food.

  “Ronnie,” he said, noticing his daughter still hadn’t taken a bite of the food on her plate. “Are you truly not hungry?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at her plate. She had refused to look at him since they’d arrived at his uncle’s church. Not a good first family meal together, but there would be other nights to practice a new routine that included Charlotte.

  “Will you honeymoon?” Bea asked.

  Charlotte’s gaze shot up to his. They stared at each other for a silent moment. He could see a yearning for exploration spark in her eyes, eyes that had been somber for most of the afternoon. It was a good change, but a honeymoon wasn’t possible right now. There was too much going on in his life. Also, two significant bills were up for passage in Parliament, and the House of Lords would be in session this coming week.

  Besides, his children wanted to spend time with him while their lessons were suspended for the summer. Then he also needed to become accustomed to being married. Had they had time to plan their wedding, circumstances might be different. But that was not the case, nor could it ever have been possible.

  Charlotte didn’t say a word; she seemed just as curious as his sister. Rightfully so, he supposed. Good Lord, he’d have to get used to having another person in his house. This all felt so strange and not quite real.

  His sister’s fork was halfway to her mouth, one eyebrow cocked as she waited for his answer.

  “Parliament resumes again in a week.” He wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin to the table. What was the sense in eating when it all tasted like dirt? He couldn’t take the four sets of eyes looking at him as though he could magically fix everything that was wrong at the dinner table right now.

  Bea pushed her chair out. “I’ll take the children up and give you some time alone.”

  Rowan stood and ran over to Tristan. “Today was wonderful, Papa.” He seemed to be the only person to think so. “She’s so pretty, you know. Not like the stepmothers in the fairy tales.”

  Tristan chuckled and smiled up at Charlotte, who was still expressionless.

  A door slammed open in the hallway, drawing his attention to the dining room entrance.

  “Castleigh, you bloody bastard. Show yourself!” came an enraged shout.

  Tristan looked heavenward. He wasn’t to be given a reprieve. If something could go wrong, it was going to go wrong. Pushing his chair out, he leaned over to kiss Rowan on the head.

  “Go with your aunt.” He walked over to his daughter, but she’d jumped out of her chair and was stamping away from him.

  He was sure she’d come around in a few days. Wasn’t that what everyone needed—a few days? “Good night, Ronnie. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

  Charlotte was already standing, her hands fussing with her dress. Bea was ushering the children toward the door when it burst open and Ponsley barged through, face red, teeth bared. His beady eyes were pinned on Tristan in an instant.

  “What have you done to my daughter?”

  “Father.” Charlotte spoke quietly and stepped forward.

  Her father turned to face her instead of Tristan. Tristan didn’t like the look on Ponsley’s face, and feared the man would actually hurt his daughter. He stepped between them, drawing Ponsley’s focus back on him.

  He really should have seen the fist coming, but he was preoccupied with Charlotte standing behind him, and his sister ushering the wide-eyed children away.

  The old man had a strong right hook that put Tristan on his ass in an instant.

  He’d have to chalk this experience up to his own stupidity. He put his hand to his nose. It bled like a son of a bitch down his face and all over his hands.

  “How dare you ruin something so pure!” her father shouted.

  Charlotte rushed forward and pulled her father off Tristan before he could go for his neck.

  “Father, please,” she cried.

  “How could you do this to me? You knew your duty.”

  Charlotte had tears in her eyes as she reached for her father. He sidestepped her, as though she were something dirty to touch. “I couldn’t, Papa. I just couldn’t marry him. You wouldn’t see reason, and I had no choice.”

  Tristan slowly stood, grabbing up the extra napkins on the table to staunch the flow of blood from his broken nose. His whole face throbbed from the hit and his vision was blurry.

  The old man pointed at him. “She is coming home with me until we can sort this out.”

  “It’s too late, Father. Whatever the gossips have said, it’s true. I’m married to the marquess now.”

  “It can be undone. You’re not of age.”

  “This can’t be undone. What would you do with me? Hide me away in the country for the rest of my days because I’ll no longer be marriageable?”

  “You chose this man over Warren?” The look of disgust her father wore stung Tristan’s pride. “Where’s your head gone, child? You’re a disappointment to our family.”

  Charlotte rubbed the back of her hand over her tear-damp eyes. Her lips trembled as she reached for her father, as though she wanted to wrap her arms around him. He stepped away from her, his gaze darker than when he’d first stormed into the dining room.

  “I acted hastily because I knew you could not be convinced to change your mind.”

  “So you chose to lie with the biggest scoundrel society has produced in two decades.”

  “It’s not his fault. I asked him to help me.” Tristan was surprised she defended him at all.

>   “No daughter of mine would defy me this way. You are nothing to me.” He turned around then and walked out of the dining room, and out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

  “Charlotte.” Tristan spoke softly, because she was silently weeping where she stood, staring after her father. He wished he could wrap her in his arms, but he didn’t want to bloody his mother’s wedding gown. “He cares for you a great deal.”

  Her sharp gaze was full of anger and he was sure it was directed at him. “So much so that he nearly called me your whore.”

  “He’ll forgive you in time.”

  “Don’t pretend you can understand my father. You don’t know him like I do. I can see now that there will be no forgiveness from him.”

  He reached for her, wanting to at least squeeze her arm in consolation. She jerked out of his reach and turned to face him.

  Her hands came up to cover her gasp too late. “That bad, eh?”

  “Oh, Tristan. I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “The only thing I’m sorry about is that I didn’t move away in time.”

  “We need to get you upstairs and cleaned up. You’ll frighten your children looking like that.”

  She cared enough about his children to shield them from this. That brought a smile to his face, but it hurt too much and his frown slipped back in place. She took his elbow to help him along. He didn’t need to be guided like this, but she seemed less angry with him at the moment so he let her do as she pleased.

  “Where would we find your valet? He’s going to need to set your nose to rights.”

  “Of all the opportunities to break it when I was younger, I had to break it now.” He shook his head, then stopped when his nose began to throb fiercely.

  “Now you will look dangerous to all the ladies. They’ll fawn over the bump you’ll have on your nose.”

  “Don’t be silly.” He didn’t like the idea of her thinking he wanted to please any woman besides the one who had become his wife a few short hours ago. “I’m beginning to think we should escape the bustle of the city.”