Chapter 14

It was well after dinner. After all the congratulatory exclamations and backhanded compliments, and even the overtly nosy questions, when Charlotte finally found a quiet moment. Her wish that they marry immediately had been naysayed by others. Now, they were set to wed on the very last day of the house party and to have an elaborate wedding breakfast hosted by Mrs. Whitlow before they departed. Mrs. Whitlow had pointed out that delaying would allow them time to send for Charlotte’s uncle and have him in attendance for the wedding. And that was something she had no argument for. He was her only family, after all, and she did adore him.

It was the impending sense of doom that Charlotte felt which was really the source of her dismay. The feeling that something would go wrong, something would happen that would prevent the wedding from taking place, dogged her every second. To find some peace, she’d slipped out to the gardens just as night had fallen and the darkness there offered her a refuge. As she drew in a deep, calming breath, she heard the faint sound of footfalls behind her and braced for something.

“Are you hiding from everyone else… or just from me?”

Relief washed through her. Turning, she smiled, “Ethan… I’m glad it’s you. I worried that perhaps Mrs. Cranford had followed me. I’ve had enough confrontations for one day, I fear.”

She couldn’t see his answering smile in the darkness, but she sensed it. And she could hear it in his voice when he replied, “I do not think there is any other sort of interaction to be had with Mrs. Cranford. Confrontation appears to be all she is capable of… and to that end, with a bit of privacy, I think we should discuss the Cranfords. I fear that Mr. Arliss Cranford may become as much of a problem as his wife.”

Charlotte laughed. “I hardly think so. Georgianna? Yes, beyond a doubt. But Arliss couldn’t even be bothered to take notice of me when we were betrothed. I cannot imagine that he would bestir himself to pursue me now that he has wed another.”

“You would be surprised, Charlotte. Some men may want a woman simply because she is desired by someone else. Like spoiled children with toys,” he warned her softly. “Avoid him if you can… and her as well.”

Charlotte had no wish to speak with either of them again for any reason. And given her own unreasonable fear that their wedding might fall victim to a saboteur, she could hardly discount it entirely. But she didn’t wish to think of her former betrothed or his hateful bride. “Is that your only reason for seeking me out in a dark garden? To warn me away from those who might wish us ill?”

“No, Charlotte. It most certainly is not.”

Charlotte took a few steps forward until she was within arm’s reach of him. “Then why, Ethan?”

He didn’t answer her with words. Instead, he simply took her hands and pulled her against him. His arms closed around her instantly.

Charlotte sighed her pleasure at the sensation. She had never known that just being close to someone physically could result in such curious and overwhelming sensations. And when his lips pressed against her cheek, it was the most natural thing in the world to turn her head and allow their lips to meet.

The sweetness of her lips against his was still as shocking as it had been from the first kiss they had shared. Sweet as it was, it was not enough to satisfy. Instead, it only heightened his hunger for her. And he did hunger. There was simply no other way to describe the need he felt. It was as if a flood had been unleashed. After seven years of patiently waiting, he could wait no longer.

Mrs. Whitlow’s garden seemed to have been designed with such seductions in mind. There were benches and follies, little alcoves created by sheltering hedges, at every turn. Stepping back into one of those concealed corners, Ethan sank down onto a bench, pulling Charlotte with him until she was sprawled across his lap. Even as he deepened the kiss, tasting the soft recess of her mouth, he was gathering her skirts in his hand, shoving the fabric out of the way so that he could touch the satin skin of her thigh. It was a bold move and one that he feared, as she pulled back from him, that might have pushed her too far.

“I shouldn’t have,” he said.

He felt her shake her head in the darkness. “I’m glad that you did. I’m glad to know, without any shadow of doubt, that you truly want me.”

Cupping her cheek, feeling the soft tendrils of her hair tangled about his fingers, he said with deep conviction, “I’ve never wanted anything more… My desire for you is unlike anything I have ever known. How I waited so long to touch you, when doing so feels like a life line to me, I will never know.”

Unable to stop himself, he kissed her again. This time, he did not content himself with merely kissing her lips. Instead, he explored the delicate column of her throat, the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. Kissing, licking, nipping with his teeth—he committed to memory everything that made her gasp or shudder. While she was quite innocent, she was still remarkably passionate. He was eager to explore that aspect of her nature, to discover it with her. But a garden that offered only the illusion of privacy was no place to do that.

Reluctantly, he pulled back. “I’ve taken liberties here that I should not have.”

“You’ve taken nothing that was not freely given,” she replied. “In truth, I think I would give you anything you asked for.”

Heat arced through him like quicksilver. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Nor how tempting I find you. It is all I can do to be a gentleman, Charlotte.”

“And if I do not wish for you to be a gentleman? How would I provoke you to that?”

The weight of his head fell forward, coming to rest against her shoulder. He could smell the soft scent of lavender and lilacs that clung to her skin. “You have but to exist… But this is neither the place nor the time.”

“When and where would that be?”

“I’ll come to your chamber… at midnight,” he said. “If you change your mind?—”

“I will not,” she insisted.

“If you should, simply lock your door. If I find it open, I will know I am welcome.”

She rose, disentangling her skirts from his hands. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Ethan watched her go, a deep breath shuddering through him. Temptation and honor warred within him. He wanted her. It wasn’t the fine and tender emotion that sparked his need. There was a feral sort of hunger within him—a need to claim, to take, to possess. It terrified him. She deserved more than that. She deserved a man who was at least moderately in control of his desires. To that end, he needed to find some semblance of the sort of will he’d possessed during the seven years he’d watched as she languished in an unending betrothal to an unworthy man.