Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

C harlotte left the ball before her mama and made her way home alone in the family carriage. The ride to their Grosvenor Square home did not take long, yet the closer she came to where she knew Alexander was, the more pained her mood grew.

The clatter of the horse's hooves on the cobblestones drummed away like a death knell for their time, which would undoubtedly end if her parents had their way.

After speaking with her mama, she knew with certainty they would never accept a man like Alexander as her husband. Nor would society when all was said and done, which left Charlotte with a choice to make and one she wished she did not have to.

As the carriage rocked to a halt before the imposing Georgian home, the looming facade of the house only served to mirror her feeling of dread.

She stepped down from the carriage, not waiting for the footman to open the door for her. She made her way into the house and up to her room without running into anyone other than the few skeleton staff who worked the late hours of the house throughout the Season.

With the help of her maid, she unclothed from her heavy ballgown and slipped on a clean, soft shift and warm dressing gown. The freedom of movement was refreshing and went some way in relaxing her disposition.

Her maid unpinned her hair, placing the pretty diamond-studded pins on her dressing table. The feel of her hair down and unbound was liberating, each strand cascading freely over her shoulders, soft and untamed.

She closed her eyes and sighed, reveling in the feel of Jane brushing through her long locks.

"I'm finished, Lady Charlotte. Would you like a cup of tea before I retire?"

"No, thank you, Jane. I shall see you tomorrow." Charlotte stood and moved over to the window, the evening uncommonly warm. She lifted the window sash, allowing an agreeable breeze into the room.

"Good night," she called as she sat on the chair beside the window, looking out onto the garden, and London beyond that flickered under the moonlight.

"Good night, my lady."

Alone, Charlotte looked out over the gardens and listened to the few birds that still chatted with one another at this late hour, the leaves rustling in the soft breeze, the smell of her mother's roses.

A glow of red, burning bright sporadically outside, caught her attention, and she frowned, trying to focus on what she was witnessing.

Was someone out in the gardens? Should she run downstairs and inform the butler that they may have a prowler or bandit in their midst?

A man moved out of the shadows and into the light, and Charlotte sighed in relief. It was Alexander, but smoking? She did not know he enjoyed the pastime.

Without hesitation, she slipped on her slippers and started downstairs. Still, few were about, and her parents were not home for hours, not until the early morning at least.

A small thrill of excitement thrummed through her at her rebellion against her parents' wishes for her. With determined steps, she headed toward Alexander, eager to see him again.

She pulled her robe closed and moved outside, keeping to the shadows as much as she could, just in case any servants had seen her progress throughout the house.

She came upon Alexander staring down at the large, round pond, watching the few golden fish they had living in the water swim about under the moonlit night. The stars reflected in the water made the universe close enough to touch.

"Hello," she said, coming up to him and standing at his side.

Surprise crossed his features before he smiled warmly. "Lady Charlotte, I did not think you were home. I had visions of you at the ball this evening, dancing with all manner of suitable gentlemen."

"Oh, I did indeed do that. In fact, I'm certain that I may receive more proposals this week. I do not know how I will refuse their offers when so many of them are as handsome as you," she teased in a playful tone.

He chuckled and drew on his cheroot. "So, you're admitting that I'm handsome?" He threw the little stem onto the ground and crushed it under his boot. "Maybe that will help me in my quest to win you."

"It could." She moved about the pond, putting distance between them and the house. "Have you been outside long? I only just returned home from the ball and thought you were an intruder. I was about to get our butler onto you."

"Now, that would have made my night a little more exciting." He smiled and walked with her, not attempting to reach for her, not even to hold her hand.

Charlotte yearned for him to touch her, to reach for her. Impatience for his touch thrummed through her, unsatisfied and demanding, and she did not know how to control her emotions.

The man had her all sixes and sevens.

Not willing to stand idly by, she wrapped her arm around his and drew close to his side. He was warm and smelled like sandalwood and spice, a delicious combination from Alexander. She breathed deeply, her heart racing.

"Did you dance with other gentlemen this evening?" he asked, his voice low and solemn.

Charlotte looked up at him and could see the concern in his eyes. She shook her head, not wanting him to be concerned about her actions when they were apart. "No, I did not. Not because I did not have the chance, but because I did not want to. And I remained with Mama most of the evening before returning home."

"Where you found me."

"Well, I had retired for the night and then spotted you by chance, and of course, I had to come see you."

"I'm glad that you did."

"I'm glad that I did as well."

They had moved into the darker provinces of the yard, the pond still at their side. The night was warm and full of sweet, floral scents. "Would you like to sit beside the pond and dangle our feet into the water? My brother and I used to do it quite often as children, and it's quite refreshing."

Alexander studied the pond a moment before he shrugged. "I suppose that would not hurt and may cool us off a little."

They sat beside the pond, and Charlotte slipped off her slippers, throwing them onto the lawns at their back. She set herself on the stone edging of the pond and slipped her feet into the cool, refreshing water. Alexander joined her, sucking in a startled breath as the chill of the water hit his feet.

Charlotte laughed. "A little cold for your liking?" she asked him.

"A little, but I'll get used to it."

As he stared at the water, Charlotte watched him, drinking in his handsome features. How was she ever to find another man who called at something deep within her that no one else ever had? For all the years in town, this one was the first she'd ever felt anything real—a sense of inevitability.

"How deep is the pond?"

"Near the edges, not very deep at all, a foot perhaps, but it is over my head in the center, and I have my brother to thank for me finding that out."

"You're close with your sibling?" he asked.

"Of course, I love Christopher dearly and look forward to when he's back in town with us."

"You're lucky to have a sibling. I do not have any, and it can sometimes mean a very quiet and lonely childhood."

"I want to have a lot of children when I marry."

"Really?" He raised one eyebrow, looking down at her with amusement. "And do you know how a woman comes about having these children?"

"I do." Charlotte stood in the water and walked about the shallows. "I told you of the book I've read. I know everything, Alexander. Would you like to ask me just how much?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, I'll take your word on it."

Charlotte leaned down and scooped up some water, splashing it at him. "Oh, do come on and indulge me. Ask me anything."

He stared at her in shock as the water wet his shirt and breeches. He scooped up some water himself and splashed it back in her direction, wetting her shift and dressing gown that had fallen open.

Charlotte gasped at the chill water hitting her skin. Not willing to back down, she kicked more water at him, and before she knew what they were about, they were splashing each other, their laughter and squeals of surprise echoing through the garden.

Wet through, they stopped splashing, and the tension doubled. The sight of Alexander's shirt, transparent in its damp form, caught her eye, and she could not look away from his chest, rising and falling from exertion.

She glanced down, her shift too transparent, her breasts clearly outlined, her puckered nipples poking through the thin material. She looked up and found him staring at her with an intentness that stole her breath.

Alexander clasped her about the waist and hoisted her against him. He was deliciously warm, his chest pressed into hers, and heat pooled at her core. She slipped her arms about his shoulders, pressing closer still. He made her want things she should not, and she was loathe to lose.

A surge of reckless abandonment swamped her, and she kissed him, took his lips, and tasted his need for her that matched her own. He was everything she'd ever wanted and made her come alive in his arms.

And heavens above, he kissed her back, owned her body and soul. And she loved every moment of it.