Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Apples .

That’s all Ian could think of as he rolled over and tangled into some sweet softness. His fingers sank into smooth flesh while the rest of him was hard with need.

And his damn head throbbed.

Reluctantly, he cracked one eye open when he heard her soft whimper. He was trapped between sleep and alertness, but he didn’t wish to wake and break the dream.

Slowly, the evening prior began to flood back. Drinking at his club, then at a tavern somewhere before arriving in Mayfair, hearing Charlotte from the doorway moan his name with her hand between her legs. The taste of her... the way she shuddered around his fingers as pleasure rushed over her body, and Ian glanced up at her from between her thighs.

Christ.

He was certain he felt like garbage, his head pounding, his mouth dry and sour tasting, but he was also certain it was the best morning of his entire life.

“Hi,” she whispered .

Charlotte was tangled around him, his fingers pressed into her full hips, her breasts grazing his chest, and her legs twined with his.

A low laugh began in his belly and traveled upward, spilling out between them.

Her brow crinkled.

“No, no, don’t move, Honeybee.” He traced circles against her lower back and tilted his head to press a kiss against her forehead. “I’m only surprised.”

“So am I,” she said with a small grin. “I can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh.”

“It doesn’t happen often.” He licked his lips, desperate for a sip of water.

“I like it.”

“I like you.” He shot back.

Her fingers brushed against his chest. Sometime during the night, he had taken off his coat, cravat, waistcoat, and shirt. Her touch... was his new favorite vice.

She ducked her head against his chest and groaned.

“Don’t do that,” he said, half in warning. “Don’t hide away.”

“But last night you caught me...” She paused, then her shoulders slumped.

He pressed his lips against her ear. “And you were magnificent. I have dreamed of that for years.”

She tilted her chin, her eyes full of light and promise. “Have you?”

He nodded, then instantly regretted it. He hadn’t imbibed like that since he was a young buck, and even then, it hadn’t been often.

“You poor thing,” she cooed with a soft giggle. “Too much of a good thing...”

He pressed his thumb against her chin, popping out her lips enough so he could sip on her mouth, slow and calculated. His cock throbbed in his trousers. Damn it, last night was only the beginning.

Charlotte melted beneath his touch, moving her hand back into her hair. The kiss quickly grew from soft to hungry.

He growled, reaching down to grab her bottom, and rolled onto his back, taking her with him .

She peered down at him, her hands fisted on his bare chest, and her long honey hair curtained around them. It felt like a secret, this small sliver of time was only for them.

“What is it that you want, Lottie? I need you to tell me. I need to hear it.”

She glanced at his lips and sat up, clasping a hand over her eyes. In the faint morning light seeping around the drawn velvet drapes, he saw the outline of her body beneath the thin linen of her chemise.

“I still hate you, Ian.” Charlotte laughed before peeking through her fingers. The corners of her smile peeked out from beneath her thumb.

“You don’t need to love me to tup me, Lottie. We are married, but it doesn’t need to mean anything if you don’t wish it to. I permit you to use me for your pleasure.”

“That’s so… thoughtful.” Again, she laughed.

His cock strained against his trousers as she straddled him, pinning him with her stare.

Those gorgeous blue eyes so full of empathy.

“You’re perfection,” he groaned. “You might as well be a firefly, the way you light up. The sun is drawn to you and sparks off your hair.”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Now I know you are still drunk, surely. You haven’t had a kind thing to say?—”

“I don’t wish to talk about what happened. It won’t do us any good now. So, this morning…” He reached his hand up and dragged it along her thigh, pushing her chemise away in the process.

Maybe she was teasing him, but she wiggled her hips.

“Easy now.”

“You were saying?” she challenged.

His hand climbed higher, over her hips and full stomach, farther still as she leaned forward, urging him on, and cupped her breast in his hand. He stroked her nipple beneath the fabric.

“I wish to start fresh. I am here in your bed. What will you do to me now?”

“I have plenty to do today, and I hadn’t planned on spending the morning in bed with you. I hadn’t planned on you last evening either. ”

“What a happy surprise for you.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I think it best you kiss me now before you say anything else.”

“Still drunk, remember?”

Charlotte bent down and cupped his face in her hands. “For now, I wish to kiss you until I forget all the reasons why I shouldn’t.”

“I can do that, Honeybee.”

She pressed her lips against his, and if he hadn’t been dreaming, the rest of the morning he surely was.

Charlotte sat beside him in the carriage, her hand over his on the bench seat between them as she gazed out the window.

“I am so proud of Lily. She is doing a fantastic job managing the school. I assist when I’m in Town if needed, but she has it well in hand. I don’t believe I’ve seen her happier.”

The gentle sway of the carriage was enough to make Ian swear off drinking again for the foreseeable future. Still, he turned his attention to his wife and smiled.

“Are you proud of it? Of the work you’ve done?”

When she turned back, she first looked at their overlapping hands before meeting his stare. “I think every girl deserves the chance to better herself outside of preparing herself to be a wife and mother. Women are much more than the roles we play in life. And Lily agrees. It was her idea.”

“I am looking forward to seeing it.”

“Yes, but are you looking forward to seeing Lily?”

“I will be amenable as long as she doesn’t also possess a giant beast that will assault me when I’m covered in bee stings.”

She laughed, shrugging. “I did tell you about the bees.”

“You know well enough that I have a stubborn streak.”

“Is that so? This is news to me.”

He chuckled, biting his lower lip. He wished to draw her up in his arms and kiss her until touring the school was the furthest thing on her mind. But not now. They had spent nearly another hour in bed this morning kissing and teasing one another, and though he was stubborn, he would remain patient.

Slowly, Charlotte was returning to him, allowing herself to be the woman he first fell in love with.

He was sure of it.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of one of Ian’s properties, one long forgotten and nearly neglected. His father had had a fondness for gathering real estate in his portfolio, and upon his death, Ian had inherited everything. Stonehurst among many other houses around England and numerous buildings around London.

Moore Hall was a squat brick building with a black lacquered door, sitting proudly in a busy square. Two potted plants in giant urns sat on either side. It had always looked plain, but Charlotte had certainly improved upon its appearance.

“I won’t be long if you would like to wait inside the carriage,” Charlotte said.

“No, I would prefer to come in with you,” Ian said. “I am looking forward to seeing what you have been working on while I was away.”

Charlotte seemed surprised, and Ian felt his chest fill with some impossible pressure. Shock, maybe, that she would still be surprised he was there to support her—or maybe just denial. Either way, Charlotte was helped out of the carriage by the driver, and Ian fell behind while the rest of London buzzed around.

He offered her his arm, and she looped her hand across his elbow as they approached the school. There, by the door, was a simple brass placard. The plaque read, Gairdner’s Seminary for Young Ladies . Below it, in smaller letters, Generously supported by The Duke and Duchess of Dandridge .

At the sight of his name there, he swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. If she knew that he had seen it, she didn’t let on as she grabbed the brass knocker.

A jolly woman, nearly two feet shorter than Ian, poked her head out, wearing a lacy cap. Gray curls framed her face. “Your Grace!” she exclaimed, her cheeks red, her green eyes shiny and full of mirth. “ What a pleasant surprise. Come in, come in. The girls are in their lessons.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Pratt,” Charlotte said. Then she paused at the doorstep, looking between the woman and Ian, before adding, “May I introduce you to my husband, the Duke of Dandridge?”

“Good morning,” he said as the woman narrowed her eyes on him, gave a curt nod, then opened the door wider to allow them inside.

Very well. It seemed his reputation preceded him.

Once inside, he noticed the fresh flowers in the front hall, the sounds of Latin and French being recited, and the pianoforte being practiced down the hall. The school was buzzing with activity and life, full of energy that nearly vibrated through him, or maybe it was just that he had noticed his wife’s smile; she was so exceedingly proud. And in turn, he felt as if his heart had miraculously melted away another icy layer. There was hope for him yet.

“We won’t be long, Mrs. Pratt,” Charlotte said. “I need to visit Mrs. Davies, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“She’s upstairs in her office. And I am sure she will tell you more, but Miss Jones is at it again,” Mrs. Pratt replied.

Charlotte nodded, her lips pressed together. “I’ll see if I can talk to her. Come on,” she said, turning back to Ian.

He was too distracted looking around at the portraits on the wall, the fine paintings. This was not what he had expected. When he thought of his school, he thought of some lonely, dark place. Maybe that had just been his experience while he was sent away as a young boy to Eton. He never liked the place much. When he had first attended, he had been picked on by the other boys until he met Viscount Blackwell. But in time, he grew taller, larger, and smarter. He learned to fight in ways that the others did not anticipate, and then he was the one who protected the smaller boys. Perhaps that’s why he had such a dark reputation in London. He had a talent for pushing everyone away with his words and his fists.

He followed Charlotte upstairs. She raised her gloved hand and then paused, turning back to Ian with an arched brow.

“You’ll be civil, Dandridge? ”

He clasped his hands in front of him and pressed his lips together to fight back the nagging urge to smile. “Of course.”

A shriek echoed from behind the door, then stifled laughter.

Charlotte laughed to herself, then knocked, turning to Ian. “It seems you’ll meet Mr. Davies,” she whispered. “They are disgustingly in love.”

“One moment,” Lily’s voice called out. “Just a moment.”

When the door swung open, a tall man with black curls and hazel eyes, Mr. Rafe Davies, Ian assumed, greeted Charlotte with a rakish grin before casting a quick glare toward Ian. “Your Grace, what a pleasure to see you. It’s been some time,” he said.

“Charlotte!” Lily exclaimed from behind the desk as she righted her hair, her dress still askew. She ran over and embraced her friend, and Ian remained still, keenly aware that he was not necessarily wanted.

“Please tell me you are well.” Lily cupped her friend’s face, shaking it gently left and then right. “You’re never allowed to ride ever again. Keep your feet firmly on the ground, please, and thank you for your consideration.”

“I thought the same, but she’s a skilled horsewoman. It would be like taking away her orchids,” Ian added awkwardly.

Lily swung her gaze at him and narrowed her eyes before returning her attention back to Charlotte. “Kate wrote to me about her visit to Stonehurst. I couldn’t get away from the school.”

“Yes, Kate and Gabriel visited.” Charlotte chuckled, rolling her eyes. She stepped aside and turned to Ian, flashing a sheepish smile. “Rafe,” she said, “allow me to introduce you to my husband, the Duke of Dandridge.”

“Your Grace.” Rafe nodded once more. “Good of you to come.”

“It’s been awhile. Good to see you, Lily,” he said. “I am excited to see what you have created with Charlotte.”

“I imagine,” she said, the tension swelling in the air. Rafe stepped aside from his wife, allowing everybody inside the office.

“Well, this is the office,” Charlotte said, trying to change the subject .

“For the headmistress.” Rafe smiled proudly at his wife. “Lily is an excellent headmistress.”

“Rafe was just visiting me. He had business in this part of Town,” Lily said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Charlotte waved off her friend. “Of course not. I am so happy to see you both. It’s been far too long.”

“You frightened us,” Lily said. “That accident of yours, I was worried. We both were. Are you...?”

“I am well now,” Charlotte said.

Ian remained still, unsure of what to say or what to add, knowing full well no one wished to hear from him.

He noticed stars painted on the ceiling and stacks of paper and books across the room, and in the corner, a beautiful brass telescope.

Another knock at the door broke through the awkward silence.

Mrs. Pratt poked her head in. “Mr. Davies, your friend Liam is here. He says he has urgent business with you.”

Lily rolled her eyes and walked to the desk, lifting a pile of books. “I have something to show you, Lottie.”

“Send him up, please.” Rafe opened his timepiece and then tucked it back into his jacket, only then noticing half of his shirt was untucked. “Don’t understand why Liam is here,” he mumbled, turning his back to the rest of the room to right himself.

Ian thankfully hid his knowing smirk.

“I apologize, Your Grace,” he said, turning around to address Charlotte. “I don’t often have business follow me to the school.”

“I know why Mr. Hawkins is here,” Lily said. When her husband looked at her blankly, she continued, “Because your friend has his eyes set on one of my teachers.”

“Which teacher?” he asked, incredulous.

“Miss Sedgewick.” Lily grimaced, opening a book, then shutting it, glancing to the floor, then back at the desk. “Liam is intent on wooing her, and if I lose another teacher…”

“All right, all right. I will speak to him,” Rafe said, holding out his hands.

“No!” Charlotte and Lily said at once .

“You mustn’t intervene. Love is love,” Lily said, folding her arms.

Rafe grinned. “Very well. Love wins. Still, I best intercept him before he’s tempted to pay her a visit.”

“Pay who a visit?” Mr. Hawkins asked, entering the room.

He was tall, Irish, and dressed so well Ian thought to ask after his tailor.

“What couldn’t wait?” Rafe asked in place of a greeting.

Liam looked around the room. “I see I’ve interrupted. My apologies. I was just in this part of Town and thought I would stop by.”

“Funny,” Charlotte said, “Mr. Davies said the same.”

Lily blushed.

“May I speak with you?” Liam asked Rafe.

The two went outside, leaving Charlotte and Lily alone with Ian.

Lily exhaled, pushing back her shoulders and stretching her neck up to glare at Ian. “I suppose I no longer need to be polite, Your Grace.”

“I admit I more than deserve anything you feel the need to say,” he said.

She glanced between Ian and Charlotte, trying to puzzle the two of them together. “So, you’ve returned?”

Then she turned to Charlotte who refused to answer.

Very well.

“If you will excuse me, ladies. I will show myself around if that is all right. I am sure you have much to discuss.”

“I can give you a tour,” offered Charlotte.

He winked, and she bit back a coy smile.

“Visit with Lily. I will keep myself busy.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “It’s a beautiful school. Very well done. The both of you.”

He didn’t miss the way her smile grew into a grin, or the way she held her hand over her heart as he slipped out of the room.