Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Charlotte cursed under her breath, fixed the remaining hive, then stuck the juniper bark into a pail of rainwater before proceeding up the hill after Ian.

He didn’t listen, of course.

And now the poor blighter had been stung from head to toe. And if she were honest, she was a smidge sorry about it. She had been certain he was flirting with her, which was altogether confusing and…

Well, Charlotte was forced to admit she liked flirting with her husband. And admitting she liked anything in conjunction with Ian left a rather odd feeling tumbling around in her stomach.

When she reached the top of the hill, she gasped.

Kate stood before Ian on the ground, her hands akimbo on her waist, and a giant wolfhound attacking his face.

“I’ve brought my giants,” Kate announced smugly. Then, noticing Charlotte, she smiled and waved. “You’re alive!”

“Your…”

Kate nearly glowed in her navy dress with her black curls swept up neatly into a bonnet.

“I heard you were injured, and I needed to see for myself you were well. ”

Nearly eight months had passed since she had seen her dear friend who left for Scotland to become a governess. She had left Katherine Bancroft, but in that time, she was now Katherine MacInnes.

A tall man unfolded from the carriage and pierced Charlotte with an intense blue stare. The corner of his mouth tipped up into a small grin as he appraised his wife standing before Ian. The man was rugged, with wide shoulders and a strong jaw. His russet hair was combed back perfectly, giving him the appearance that he lived in the fringe between polite society and the Scottish Highlands.

“Call him off now,” he said in a thick Scottish burr.

Kate acted as if she didn’t hear.

“ Kate .”

She rolled her eyes and called for the dog who immediately jumped off Ian and sat at her heels as Charlotte walked over and drew Kate in for a long embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, trying to stem the tears. It was silly, really. She had written to Kate plenty of times during the past several months. “Oh, let me take a look at you.” She drew back and surveyed Kate who appeared happy and in love, judging by how she smiled at her husband.

“How was the trip?”

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Kate said. She grabbed Charlotte’s hand and tugged her close. “I received the very worst sort of letter, and I had to see for myself that you are recovering well.”

“I am fine.”

Ian groaned, pushing up onto his knees. His face was red and swollen, one eye shut. “You nearly died,” he said with a fat lip.

Her heart tipped open a bit at the pathetic sight.

“There’s no reason for a fuss. I’m fine.”

It was hard to ignore the lisp clinging to his words thanks to his swollen lip.

“In that case,” Kate said with a large smile, “may I introduce you to my husband, Gabriel MacInnes. Gabriel, dear, this is the Duke and Duchess of Dandridge. ”

“Yer Grace,” he said, stretching out a hand toward Ian who struggled to stand.

Thankfully, her husband was gracious and accepted the help.

“Ian was just stung in the apiary when you arrived. Let’s go inside, and I’ll see you both settled and will find some vinegar for those stings.”

Kate and Gabriel followed Ian and Charlotte into Stonehurst as their luggage was carried inside and unloaded.

“We don’t mean to impose,” Kate said in the foyer, eyeing the large vase full of daffodils which Ian not-so-secretly picked for Charlotte earlier that week. “We will only stay the night and be on our way to Scotland.”

“The night! Surely you could stay two?”

Kate glanced toward Gabriel who shrugged. “Whatever ye wish, Kate.”

She spun and waggled her brows. “He gives the best answers. Two nights it is.”

Her husband’s low chuckle reverberated around the empty space.

“Well come in. Make yourselves comfortable. Let me see to Ian, and then I will have tea and refreshments brought to the parlor.”

Charlotte grabbed Ian’s arm, but he quickly withdrew it on a hiss.

“Oh, sorry,” she whispered, her eyes wide at the pain etched in his face. “Come along. Are you sure you’re well? You look horrible.”

“Jessus Christ,” he cursed. But his lip was far too swollen. “Fine,” he settled on at last.

She glanced over her shoulder as Gabriel drew Kate into his arms and dropped a tender kiss on top of her forehead. Pride swelled in Charlotte’s chest, followed closely by the echo of longing.

Perhaps jealousy.

Once she believed she could have that with Ian.

And now she didn’t know where she stood with him.

“Ow,” he grumbled, pulling away.

“Some vinegar will help with the venom. Unless you prefer to use manure?”

He only glared at her as they went downstairs to the kitchen .

“Have you been down here?” she asked, guessing by his bewildered looks that he never had.

“Why would I? A duke has no need to go belowstairs.”

The house staff froze as they laid eyes upon the pair.

“Carry on,” Ian ordered.

“Cook?” Charlotte tugged Ian’s hand to follow. “Would you be so kind as to find us some vinegar?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The cook waved on the pair to follow as she moved through the busy kitchen.

With vinegar in hand, Charlotte led them into the empty dining room and gestured for Ian to sit.

He sat on the edge of the table. “I can do it myself.”

“Hmm,” she said, grabbing a rag and soaking it with vinegar. She leaned close to him, her eyes falling first to his lips. So close. Her body suddenly felt as if she had been stung as well, a prickle of awareness crawling up her spine. Those lips, she had kissed them again not long ago. But it had been an angry kiss, one that left far too many questions.

She gently pressed the damp rag to the inflamed skin around his left eye, then swiped it down to his mouth. And Ian sat there, looking a little broken and sad, and she couldn’t help but remember him standing by the garden gate earlier this morning with his hands tucked into the too-loose trousers and the easy smile that he wore.

It had felt, for a moment, a glimpse of what could have been between them. Or maybe it was more a memory of the man she had fallen in love with. Either way, it was silly to fall in love with him again.

And dangerous.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She shook her hand, standing back a step to find some distance. But it was no use. She felt the heat rolling off his body, felt his skin beneath her fingertips as she grabbed his arm and pushed back the sleeves to his linen shirt.

“This is the most ridiculous wardrobe,” she laughed softly .

“Needs must, Honeybee.”

She closed her eyes, certain he had felt the way her fingers had tripped across his skin upon uttering her nickname.

“I will arrange for the tailor…”

“I’ve already written them.” His voice was soft, yet his words were jagged, as if it pained him to speak.

When Charlotte met his stare, the anger that his dark eyes had possessed when he returned home had faded to longing.

Did she affect him in the same way as he did her?

She dabbed the rag over the stings on his arm and stood back, appraising, trying her best to ignore his heated stare.

“Where else?” she asked.

He tilted his head up toward the ceiling, revealing another cluster of stings by his throat.

“If you leave the vinegar, I can do it.”

Charlotte ignored him, pushing through the panic bubbling up in her chest. Instead, she leaned into the desire to be close to him and bring him comfort. Ian parted his legs, allowing her to stand in between them. His scent wrapped around her as she gently pressed one hand against his shoulder and dabbed vinegar over the stings with the other.

“The swelling should go down soon. This won’t hurt forever.”

He didn’t say anything, only looked down at her lips before returning his attention to the ceiling with a soft grunt.

The pad of her thumb slipped over his shirt collar, pressing against the hollow of his throat. His skin was warm, like stepping out into the spring sunshine. Instead of pulling away, Charlotte found herself a little hungry for more.

“May I?” She licked her lips and pushed the edge of his shirt back to reveal a corner of his bare chest. He tipped his nose down, pushing it against her temple. His mouth ghosted over her cheek, and he settled his hands over her hips.

And for a moment, it was as if everything was suddenly right.

She imagined slipping her hand back into his hair, moving just enough for their lips to brush. What would it feel like to be wrapped in his arms once more and kiss, not out of hate or spite but from desire?

Her pulse thrummed the longer she pushed herself to remain so close. She was heady, the curiosity of what could be almost maddening.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her cheek.

The problem was she had desperately missed him over the years as well until there was a large, gaping hole in her chest. And now she didn’t know if he missed the woman he had married or the idea of having a wife.

Charlotte stepped away, breaking whatever spell had fallen over them. “Please be kind while Kate and her husband are here. I hope you will feel better soon.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye as she spun around and slipped out into the busy kitchen, desperate to reach her room and settle some space between herself and Ian.

Charlotte circled the carpet as the afternoon sun filtered into the room, shining bright off the crystal chandelier and casting tiny rainbows across the walls.

“I don’t love him,” she announced to the empty room.

But she wasn’t sure if she believed it to be true anymore. And wasn’t that the very devil of it?

She smelled of smoke. Charlotte poured water into the porcelain washbasin and quickly sponged herself off. A bath later would help, but for now, she needed to cool off and set her head straight. She needed space and…

His hands gripped her hips and pulled her close.

She groaned and dressed as a knock sounded at her door.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?” asked Kate.

With a sigh, Charlotte crossed the room and gestured for her friend to come in. After Kate’s scandal two years prior, she had lived with Charlotte and acted as her secretary. When she left for Scotland, Charlotte had so desperately missed having female companionship.

The rest of the ladies in the ton always seemed to look down upon Charlotte, or worse, gossip about her as if she couldn’t hear. Worse still, they pretended to enjoy her company, only trading her title for attention. Since she was seldom in London, having her attend a ball or dinner was a social currency in its own right.

“Did he hurt you?” Kate walked around the room, surveying stacks of books, botanical sketches, and plants scattered around.

Charlotte had the odd compulsion to run and hide things. It wasn’t as if she were keeping secrets.

“It was a riding accident. I tried to have my horse jump a wall that I knew wasn’t safe.”

Why she decided to hold back the complete truth was also odd. She had been fleeing to Scotland, and she would have made it if he hadn’t ridden so hard at her, determined to do… well, she didn’t allow herself to think what he would have done. He wouldn’t have hurt her. But remaining at Stonehurst when he was as cruel as he had been, would have hurt her in an entirely different way.

“That’s what he wrote me. But I’m asking you for the truth.”

“He wrote to you?”

Kate sighed as she turned and spun toward Charlotte. “Yes, as much as it pains me to say it. I think he was worried he would lose you.”

“He still might.”

That wasn’t the full truth anymore. Not entirely. She found herself warming up to the man, craving to know him more, wishing that instead of being stuck with only the memories of how he left, they could make more memories together.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve asked for a divorce.”

Kate barely contained her shock, her large green eyes wide and her mouth agape. “You didn’t.”

“I don’t want to be his duchess after he left me… ”

She stopped there, a voice niggling in the back of her mind that he had returned.

I’ve missed you .

It was as if her heart followed the same course of the moon, slivers of light pouring over the darkness each day. Always changing yet remaining wholly the same.

She had hated him when he arrived, and now, each day, she found it not to be the whole truth.

“Never mind the fact that a divorce would be near impossible, it would be horribly public, Lottie. Do you wish that after everything?”

“People will say what they will about me. It won’t change… what a lovely band of scandalous brides we are, Kate.”

“Does Monty still want to marry you?”

Charlotte scoffed, wiping at her face. She wasn’t certain why she was crying. It was only that everything felt overwhelming suddenly.

“Yes, Monty still… well.”

“He does love you.”

Like a child loved a puppy. Or a debutante loved a new dress. He adored Charlotte, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t find him attractive or kind, he just wasn’t Ian.

“He is not the solution to the problem.”

“Oh, now you sound like Lily.”

“I miss her.”

“Come to London then. Gabriel and I will be there for a fortnight, and it would be grand to have the three of us in the same room again.”

Charlotte fell back onto her mattress and stared up at the ceiling. Rainbows merrily danced across the room, giving her the illusion she was trapped in a jewelry box.

“I missed you, Kate. Come tell me all about your husband and your honeymoon and everything else about your life.”

“It’s not as if I haven’t written,” Kate said with a laugh, then joined her on the bed. “I am more concerned about you.”

“I am…”

“In love with your husband? ”

Charlotte rolled her gaze over to her dearest friend and groaned. “I don’t know. I was certain I hated the man.”

“The same man who lay on the ground today, stung head to toe by honeybees while being attacked by a giant wolfhound? He’s growing a beard? And his clothes…”

“I burned his wardrobe in the bathtub.”

It started as a small chuckle before Kate’s laugh grew into a guffaw. “Well done, Duchess.”

“I find I can be full of surprises when I feel as if I am cornered.”

“Has he been kind to you?” Kate waved her hands above her as if dismissing the words that had been left unspoken. “Recently, I mean.”

Ian had been kind.

And he had remained, giving her hope. And perhaps that is what bothered her most of all. She didn’t want him to rob her of a happy future again. She had given him her heart once, and she wasn’t sure she had reclaimed all the pieces. They were somewhere scattered across Stonehurst and the rest of England.

“I barely know him now,” she said instead. “But he insists on staying, and I find myself deciding whether I’m in love with a ghost or falling for a stranger.”

“And he is refusing your request for a divorce?”

“No.”

Kate folded her arms over her stomach. “That doesn’t sound like the duke at all. Very perplexing. Maybe he’s seen the error in his ways. You are a very fine prize, my dear.”

“I thought women’s hearts weren’t prizes to be won. Or has having a husband made you change your mind?”

“Let me rephrase… you are the sweetest, most loyal person I know, and he had it right the first time when he asked for your hand. It’s a shame he had to mess that up.”

“I don’t know why… I mean, he has changed since my accident. And I wish to get to know him. He has tried, and I haven’t been open?—”

She suddenly felt the ghost of his hands on her hips, his breath warm on her face from earlier. The memory of that angry kiss they shared…

“You need to seduce your husband, Lottie. You will never repair what has been broken by dancing around the damage. Run through it, bleeding hearts and all. Trust that is the only way you will know what you want.”

Charlotte groaned, rubbing her eyes. “I thought I was the one who gave the advice in this friendship.”

“Call it motherly instinct.”

“Hmm?”

“Lottie, I’m having a baby.”