22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter twenty-two

C harlotte had been unsuccessfully attempting to fall asleep when lightning struck a nearby tree, causing her kitten to leap onto her head.

“Meow,” Snowball screeched in Charlotte’s ear.

It seemed this was to be a sleepless night. Although she was cozy, there was no reason to stay in bed. After whispering comforting words to her kitten, she padded across her room to light a lantern, the ball of fur at her heels. Snowball gracefully leaped onto her dressing table. Charlotte sat and stroked her furry companion. Eventually, Snowball curled into a ball, closed her eyes, and purred contentedly. The adorable imp was probably dreaming about mousing in a sunny field.

How unfair because Charlotte was wide awake, her heart aching for the man she adored—despicable rat that he was. It was as if someone pummeled her in the chest over and over again, making it difficult to catch her breath. Luckily, petting a kitten eased a bit of the sting.

Just as she bent forward to kiss Snowball’s nose, something hit the window. Snowball startled, smacking her head against Charlotte’s chin. They both yelped. Hair standing at attention, Snowball leaped into the air and scampered behind the wardrobe.

Charlotte should be ashamed of behaving like a terrified ninny, especially when the racket was probably a branch blowing in the wind. Expecting to see a swaying tree limb, she peered out the full-length window. Instead, a dark figure stood on her balcony, tapping on the glass.

She squealed in horror.

“Charlotte, it is Hugh,” said his muffled voice as he pressed his nose against the glass.

It seemed as if a beam of sunshine shot into the room, filling her with joy. She skipped to him. However, once her hand landed on the pulley, her common sense berated her silly solicitude.

It was entirely indecent for him to see her in her thin night dress, her hair unbound and hanging about her. However, did it truly matter since he had seen her naked bits up close and personal?

Probably not.

But, more importantly, just because Hugh was outside her chamber did not mean he was devoted to her. She might have fallen in love—yes, she was head over heels, helplessly in love with the man—but obviously, he did not feel the same way about her. Since his list of mistresses was concealed in a box on top of her escritoire , she needed to temper her emotions and keep him at bay .

Shielding her heart beneath a layer of attitude, she scowled at him as he bent down and lifted the sash. He stepped into her chamber, closed the window behind him, and passed by her as if she had invited him in, which she had not, at least not in words.

However, her tingling body wanted him close. How could she not? She was a woman, after all, and his wet garments clung to his hard contours. He was not wearing a tailcoat, and his soaking-wet shirt left nothing to the imagination.

What perfection. Shoulders so strong they could carry the weight of the world, biceps whose purpose was to protect, and a chest that could cradle and comfort. Hopefully, she was not licking her lips and salivating as she forced herself to look away from his muscular thighs and enticing bulge.

Lord above, she needed strength if she meant to resist him.

“What do you want?” she asked with feigned impatience.

Seeming unphased by her terse question, his voice was gentle and compassionate. “I have been worried about you. Are you well?”

She lifted her chin and told him the truth. “I am exceedingly miserable.”

Either he was quite good at faking concern, or he really had been fretting about her. His brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched. “Has Lady Chesterhill once again done something to cause you grief?”

Charlotte snorted at the understatement.

Hugh stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, warming her to her very soul. Why was she so helpless against his charms?

“I swear, I will send that woman to hell,” he growled.

He seemed to sincerely hate her stepmother. So why would he have had an affair with her? Nothing made sense anymore. Especially the way her legs trembled when he placed his hands on her cheeks, then gently lifted her face until their gazes locked. How could she be both overcome with desire and anger?

“Tell me what is wrong? What has she done to hurt you this time?” he asked.

She had been so self-absorbed that she just now noticed he was covered with fresh bruises. Her anger and frustration morphed into concern.

“Oh, Hugh? What happened? Were you in another fight?”

“Do not worry about me. I am fine. Did she ruin another of your dresses? Hell’s teeth, has she harmed another one of your pets?”

His concern muddled her resolve. She turned her back to him and paced the room, finally halting before him. “You need to go.” She pointed at the balcony. “Now.”

Hugh frowned. “Fine. I will leave. But not before you tell me what has you so distraught.”

He looked so overwrought that Charlotte wanted to reach for him. She formed fists and squeezed until her fingernails dug into her palms.

“Please, tell me,” he insisted.

Even though he was a scoundrel, they had shared intimacies. Perchance she owed him an explanation. Where should she start?

“Papa says I must marry Lord Nash,” she declared.

Why in the devil had she started with that? Did she want Hugh to come to her rescue?

He gaped.

“But I will run away before I marry him.”

“You will never marry him, not if I have any say over it,” he spat out venomously .

Men and their possessive natures. She would not be flattered by his jealousy. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Why would you have any say over who I marry?”

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage because I do not understand why you are so angry with me.”

“You are at a disadvantage? Pfft. You think you can bed whomever you want, and then dictate who I marry.”

His thick lashes fluttered. Why were the dashed things so pretty? “I thought you did not wish to marry him.”

This was going atrociously. She could not think with Hugh Fletcher standing there looking devilishly alluring and making her nipples do that blasted tingly thing. She would not cry.

Pulling her shoulders back, she faked strength she did not possess. “I do not wish to marry him, and I do not want to care for a man who thinks nothing of deceiving me, so I will ask you again, please leave.”

Hugh lunged forward, grasped her around the waist, and pulled her to him. At first, his damp shirt chilled her skin, but within seconds, his embrace warmed her.

“I will leave, but you must know I do not want secrets between us. The truth is, I am trying to be loyal to your father, and he has asked me not to discuss his business. The only reason I continue to abide by his absurd contract is to be near you.”

Stay strong, Charlotte, she told herself.

His nose grazed her cheek, and his whispers tickled her ear. “I dare say, I am falling in love with you.”

She gasped. If he was truly falling in love with her, was all of this heartache the result of a misunderstanding?

“Of course, I am a bloody fool. I know that you must marry someone of your class,” he said .

He wished to marry her? More than anything, she wanted to tell him that she loved him. But she had to know the entire truth before she let down her guard.

“I could care less that we are not of the same class,” she said with as much indignation as she could muster, which was not much, so her voice quivered. “But, if you mean to be loyal to my father, why would you engage in an assignation with his wife?”

“Bloody hell,” he bellowed as he pulled away from her.

“Meow,” screeched an upset Snowball as she raced from her hiding spot behind the wardrobe to shelter beneath the bed.

Hugh lowered his voice. “I assure you, I never had an affair with Lady Chesterhill. That woman makes my skin crawl.”

There was only one thing left to do—confront him with her evidence. “I have something of yours,” she confessed.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

Filled with shame over pilfering his note, Charlotte retrieved the slip of paper from the box she had concealed it in. She struggled to hold her chin up as she handed it to him.

He unfolded it and frowned as he scanned the paper. “I wondered where this went.”

The silence between them hung like a festering wound. She had stolen from him. This was the end of everything.

“Why would you take this?” he asked.

“I am so sorry. I should not have, but I found it under your bed. At first, I did not believe the rumors about you and Lady Chesterhill, but even my trusted lady’s maid heard them. And then I found this and jumped to conclusions. I was so heartbroken I could not think clearly.”

He nodded.

She waited.

At long last, he folded the paper and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers. Clasping her hand, he shepherded her to the bed. “Let us talk,” he said. “Openly and honestly.”

As much as the truth might hurt, she needed it. Desperately. They sat side by side, his thumbs caressing her palms.

“I am sorry I am getting your bedding wet.” He inclined his chin to her torso. “You are shivering.”

She did not care about her damp clothing or counterpane. Her only concern was repairing the damage she had done to their relationship.

“So,” he said with an excruciatingly long exhale. “I am investigating those women for a client. They are his mistresses, not mine. I will not lie to you. I have had my share of bed partners in the past, some of them have even been married women. But I have never, ever tupped Lady Chesterhill. For some nefarious reason, she has perpetuated a rumor that we were lovers and that I made unwanted advances toward her. On my honor, I have not.”

It sounded like something her stepmother would do.

“Perchance she started the rumors to hurt me,” Charlotte said.

He nodded. “I believe that is the case. I also think she intends to cause you more harm. Her jealousy has no bounds.” He gazed into Charlotte’s soul. “Firefly, right now, there are no other women but you. You are all I think about since I discovered you sparkling in the dark.”

“I feel the same way,” she said. “You make me feel alive for the first time in forever.”

He rested his forehead against hers.

“Where does this leave us?” she asked.

“I have nothing to offer you. I have no title or holdings, and even my job is in question.” He half chuckled, half moaned. “ I gave all my money to a woman I encountered in the street. Her husband was abusing her, and I wanted her to leave him and start a new life. Since my rent was due, and I could not pay it, my landlord locked me out of my residence. Currently, I am homeless.”

“Oh, Hugh. How heroic.”

“I am no hero. I simply hate bullies.”

“A hero.” Her hero. “And how dare your landlord. I shall see him tomorrow. I will give him some of my pin money and then retrieve your belongings. I will also give him a piece of my mind.”

“God above, you are sweet. However, there is no point. I believe he burned all of my possessions. Let us return to the important point. I have nothing to offer you. We cannot live off your pin money.”

Dare she tell him how much she had hidden away? The truth was they would be able to live off her savings for quite a while.

“I do not care a fig for a title or holdings,” she said.

“Your brother and father would kill me before they allowed us to be together.”

“Then I shall run away,” she declared.

“My sweet little Firefly.” With his forehead still pressed against hers, he smiled. “Unfortunately, I must stay here and finish the job I have been contracted to do.”

All at once, the truth hit Charlotte. How could she have been so lamebrained?

“Were those my father’s mistresses, and you are searching for them for some reason?”

Hugh did not need to say anything, the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. Perhaps, deep down inside, she had always known .

“ I can no longer keep count of them all, Father, ” Alexander had said soon after their mother’s death.

“Did he have mistresses while my mother was alive?” she asked.

“Charlotte, ’tis not my place to tell you. I think you will need to confront your father.”

And confront her father, she would. Right after, she kissed Hugh decidedly good and proper.