Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

He hadn’t meant to share that thought. About how they would have a child now, too afraid that Charlotte would push him away.

Instead, she held his hand in the carriage the entire way home as if she understood his hurt as well. They never said another word.

Yes, he had returned for an heir. But it wasn’t as simple if he were being honest. Because he had hated his wife, how she continued with her life as he fled and hid from his. Ian’s damn pride had gotten in the way.

And all he had to show for it was a wife who wished to leave him while he fought to show her that they were worth a second chance.

When they returned home from the seminary, Charlotte had asked to rest. Considering they didn’t sleep much the night before, Ian didn’t protest. She would need her sleep for what he had planned that evening.

He dressed for dinner and then knocked on her door. Charlotte was curled up in her bed, staring at the fire.

“I will get up, I promise. It’s only I’m so comfortable here,” she said, stretching.

“You don’t need to if you don’t wish. ”

She rolled her head over the pillow, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“I arranged to have dinner in my room. I’m here to escort you.” He bowed, trying his best to remain lighthearted. “And I have another surprise for you.”

“You are very strange now,” she said, then shut her eyes and laughed. “I promise that sounded much better in my head. I only mean…”

He chuckled, cocking his head as her blue eyes shined bright.

“Well, you are… interested .”

“Should I not be?”

“You spent our entire marriage not interested.”

“But before?” He dropped his head, arching a brow.

“You were interested,” she said with a smile. “Definitely so.”

“Good, we agree.” He ducked back out into the hallway before Susan entered, juggling a pile of boxes. “I have reached out to several other modistes in Town and asked them to design a dress for you. If you find one that you like, we can visit and see that they work on your wardrobe. When you are done?—”

“Wait.”

Ian paused, holding on to the door and leaning back. His normally perfectly swept-back hair fell by his temple giving him a rakish appearance.

“You could stay.”

He glanced toward Susan, who then peeked toward Charlotte and quickly exited the room and shut the door behind her.

“You’ve done it now, Honeybee.” He approached the bed and bent down to give her a kiss.

She surprised him by grabbing his cravat and drew him closer to her once more.

“How so?” she whispered against his mouth.

“Susan will tell everyone.”

The soft, throaty chuckle she issued was fire to his veins. The temptation of her, the promise of her …

“Dinner will be ready shortly, and as much as I would like to continue?—”

“So formal,” she chided.

“Should I get to the point?” he asked, drawing away enough so he could look at her.

“Yes. You do so strive to be efficient.”

“Take off your clothes, Charlotte.”

She wiggled back across the mattress, so playful and teasing. Christ, it had been too long since he had seen her this way.

He dove into the bed to steal another kiss, and she squealed, grabbing a pillow and whacking it across his face before falling into a peal of laughter.

The sweetest sound, second to her moan.

He grabbed her ankle and pulled gently until he could grip her waist, and she quieted, staring up at him. Only the sound of them catching their breaths filled the room as their shoulders rose and fell.

“I was such a fool,” he said, brushing his hand through her hair. He hated himself as soon as he said it, fearing it would only spur her to withdraw.

Instead, she laughed.

“Aren’t most men fools?”

“At some… yes,” he said, settling for the easy answer. He would like to have more stock in his own sex, and while they did possess power in this world, they were unequal to a woman.

She rolled away from him, shaking off his touch and stretching. Then she grabbed the first box and glanced at the ribbon.

“Mrs. Blanchet makes the most beautiful gowns for Lady Ogden.”

He remained beside her on the bed, watching her reaction as she opened the box and discovered a yellow gown inside.

“Yellow?”

He shrugged. “I think of you often in that yellow gown.”

“My mother made me wear that gown. I couldn’t stand the color.”

His heart sank. “Well now?”

“I can’t wear the color without remembering that night.” She held up the gown, admiring the beautiful details. “I can’t imagine any other will be any better.”

“Try it on,” he urged.

“Very well.” She turned and lifted her hair to reveal the nape of her neck. “Can you help me unfasten my gown?”

“Hmm.” He set his hand at the base of her neck and gently rubbed his thumb up and down along the sliver of exposed skin. “I think I prefer ties. These buttons…”

“Too tricky? I can ring for Susan.”

“Under no circumstances are you to ring for Susan.” She softly chuckled at his curtness. “A few buttons won’t deter me.”

“Such fortitude.”

“Stubbornness, more like.” He slipped the buttons through the buttonholes and carefully peeled the fabric down to her shoulders.

Charlotte remained still. Plenty of times he had dreamt of this small, precise act, and doing it all over again, especially as husband and wife. The last time, he had stripped her to her underthings, never turning her to face him, then left her alone to stand there waiting.

And humiliated.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered. “We will pretend I never broke your heart.”

“But you did.”

“I know, love.” He pressed his lips at the nape of her neck in a soft kiss and felt her body shiver beneath his touch. His thumbs grazed over the graceful curve of her shoulders as he slid her dress down her arms and let the fabric pool at her feet in a soft whoosh.

“Turn around.”

But Charlotte remained stuck, her hand resting just above her breast and gazing at their reflection in her vanity mirror.

“Sometimes, since you’ve returned, I think of that night. Of what I could have done or said differently for you to change your mind.”

He placed his hand against her stomach, and she briefly closed her eyes and fell back against him.

“I don’t think anything would have changed my mind then. I was hurt and my pride won. ”

“You? Proud?”

He bent down and kissed her neck, then nipped her earlobe with his teeth as she laughed. “Minx.” Her hand reached around and clasped his waist, drawing him toward her. If they hadn’t a place to be, the pretending could be over. But there was a reason he had purchased several yellow gowns.

“Now turn around.”

She did, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes on him. “Am I to know where I am going?”

“That depends. Do you wish it to be a surprise?”

She raised her arms instead of answering, allowing him to slip on the first yellow gown. It flowed down the full curves of her body.

“I don’t believe we need to try the others,” he said.

She looked down, then back up, concern in her eyes as she rubbed her palms over the front of her gown.

“It is a beautiful dress, but if you do not like it…”

“One, you look gorgeous. And two, I purchased these dresses so you might feel beautiful, not for you to look pleasing to me. I have…” he cleared his throat. “You are like lightning, Charlotte. I saw you across the ballroom that evening, and you struck, burned me to the ground. I am yours and have been yours since that day. That is the power you possess over me.”

He bent down, grasping her hand and placing a chaste kiss across her smooth knuckles. Ian rested his head against her stomach as she stood before him. His heart raced in his chest, not out of excitement but out of fear.

“I will buy you every damn gown in this city, then begin over on the continent, if I must. What do you want, Charlotte? Tell me and it’s yours.”

“For you to want me, Ian.” She tapped on his shoulder. “Look at me, please.”

He doubted very few dukes kneeled before their duchess, but Ian wasn’t in the mood to entertain the relationships across the ton . He had allowed far too many opinions to seep into his mind as it was and rip away what he held most dear .

He looked up at her, lost himself in those bottomless blue eyes that reminded him of the churning water off the Amalfi Coast.

“I want only you,” he said, his voice rough.

She cupped his face in her hand. “It’s a beautiful dress. Thank you.”

“Very well.” He stood, then cupped his hands behind her bottom and picked her up, backing her against the vanity. “Now we can take it off and try the others.”

“What of dinner? What of my surprise?”

He buried his head to kiss her collarbone, his hand cupping her breasts. “They can wait. Please , Lottie.”

“You wicked man, they cannot, and you know full well.”

He hated it when she was correct, which was often.

“Then help a poor man out and make me remember.”

“Remember what?”

He picked her up again, this time kissing her as he walked her to his rooms, her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, then slowly set her down on her feet.

He clamped his hand over her eyes, and she laughed. “You are so frustrating right now. I was enjoying a nap before you barged in and woke me up. So tell me, Ian, what is it you wish for me to remember?”

Ian swallowed down the jumbled mess of his stomach and dropped his hand before turning her around to see a small table adorned with hothouse flowers and candles.

“The night I fell in love with you.”