Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Alexander gulped as he resurfaced, his hair stuck to his head with water, his top hat lost to the river.

"Charlotte?" he called as she, too, came to the surface.

She blinked away the water, then shook her head, pushing her hair back off her forehead.

"Good Lord, Charlotte. I'm sorry. Here, let me help."

But to Alexander's surprise, Charlotte wasn't upset nor angry. In fact, she threw her head back and laughed, her delight shining in her eyes.

"I don't need your help, Your Grace," she teased, then she spun in the water until she was on her front and swam quickly to shore.

Alexander watched her, amazed at how lighthearted and fun she was. He'd known it, of course. She'd demonstrated it often enough, but it seemed there were no limits to it. Her gown billowed in the water as she went, the shape of her lost as the water caressed her fine bare flesh beneath.

But as she crawled onto the grassy bank, it clung to her, the water embracing her tightly. Alexander licked his lips at the curve of her waist, her hips, and he longed to put his hands on them, to be the water that trickled down her body.

She fell onto her bottom and turned to him. "Are you planning on staying in their all day?" she called. "I wouldn't have thought a tailcoat much good for swimming in."

Stupidly, Alexander looked down at himself, as if he had quite forgotten what had happened. He chuckled to himself, then dove into the water and swam to meet her, leaving the boat to rock its own way back to shore. He'd send a footman out for it later if need be.

"Did you arrange for that to happen?" Charlotte asked as he landed on the bank beside her, his clothes soaked through and his eyes stinging from the river water.

"Arrange it?" he cried indignantly. "Why on earth would I do such a thing?"

Charlotte shrugged. "Anything to get me in the water, perhaps. Or maybe you were simply looking for a bit of adventure. I've heard all about men like you. Father warned me often enough before he died."

Alexander choked on his words, not quite believing what she was saying. "Even if I was that sort of man, which I am not, how could I possibly arrange for our boat to crash into a stationery pier? Honestly, Charlotte, what must you think of me to—"

Her laughter made him halter, and she pressed her hand against his arm. The touch made him inhale, imagining all the possibilities that might one day come to be.

"I am teasing you, Alexander. But if anything, I would have been impressed by your ingenuity."

"Really?"

She giggled. Alexander's lips twitched into a smile, and he straightened his back.

"Well," he continued, "in that case, yes indeed. I planned the whole thing. Anything to get you in the water, as you say. I suppose I wanted a reminder of that first day we met at the lake."

The pair sat on the sloping back, looking out over the water. Alexander hugged his knees to his chest, while Charlotte leaned back, resting her weight on her arms.

"Oh, you mean the time you were spying on me as I was swimming?"

"Yes, that's the day. When you were behaving entirely inappropriately in a public place. Do you remember?"

Charlotte pouted, turning to look at him. "Inappropriate it may have been, but you liked it."

"I'm not denying that," he agreed. "In fact, I'd say some of my favorite moments with you have been when you've behaved inappropriately."

Charlotte gasped in mock horror, playfully slapping him on the arm. "Goodness, Your Grace. Is that really any way to speak to a lady?"

He looked at her and raised a single eyebrow. "It is when she is a lady as unconventional as you. Has anyone ever told you that you look like a drowned cat?"

"Speak for yourself," she said with a giggle. "I didn't realize it was possible for anyone's hair to stick so solidly to their head, and your eyes are rimmed with red."

"Speaking of which, why aren't your eyes equally suffering from the water? You ought to be careful. You might be accused of witchcraft. You're certainly enchanting enough."

Charlotte gasped again. "Charming and insulting all rolled into one. You are a cruel man at times, Alexander."

I would love you even if you were a witch.

"Not at all," he said instead. "Just imagine; I think all that and still wish to spend time in your company!"

With a tut, Charlotte looked away, and the pair descended into companionable silence. As he looked over the empty river, the boat long out of sight, Alexander could feel her sitting next to him, sense her, her own body as tense and ready as his. It was as if her soul silently reached out and touched his, urging him to join her and become one. Become whole.

No. It was no longer about her wealth. It was about so much more than that. Now, it was about everything.

After a time, he felt her shiver next to him, and he cursed his lack of foresight. He turned to her. "You're cold."

She tilted her head and looked up at him, squinting against the sun. "No more than one would expect," she said. "But the sun will soon warm me."

"I shall go fetch the carriage, so you have somewhere to get dry." Alexander made to get up, but Charlotte reached out and pulled him back down.

"No, don't," she said. "Please don't leave me. I'm rather enjoying sitting here with you."

"I can't very well give you my tailcoat," he said. "It's as wet and cold as you are."

"Then perhaps…" She paused and looked up at him through her lashes, coy and uncertain yet somehow forward. "Perhaps you would sit a little closer to me."

"All right." He shifted along the bank until their hips touched.

"And perhaps," she said after another pause, "you could warm me by putting your arm around my shoulders."

Shocked as he was, Alexander was equally excited by her boldness, and he didn't hesitate in putting his arm around her. He clung onto her shoulder and pulled her body close into his. They remained still for what felt like forever, tense and unmoving, not looking at one another. They both knew what they wanted, and it was equally clear to Alexander that she wanted it as much as he did, and yet there was that pause, that hesitation.

It was painfully delicious, the anticipation swirling in his gut. He wanted her more than anyone, or anything before, and he knew she would allow him to take her, to have her. But how could he steal her innocence from her, for he was certain she remained a virgin. Had he not already damaged her enough.

But a mere kiss will do no harm.

As if they both came to the conclusion as the same time, they turned to one another. This time, there was no pause, no hesitation. There were only lips touching lips, hands diving around each other's bodies, searching, urging, needing.

Charlotte allowed herself to fall backwards, tugging on his shirt as she went so that the pair of them ended up lying on the soft, dewy grass. Alexander hadn't taken his lips off hers until he felt the ground against her back. He glanced around, suddenly worried that they would be caught. But there was no one but the birds in the trees, singing their joy at their union.

They were surrounded by large, bushy trees, the small clearing isolated from outside view. The only way anyone might happen upon them was via the river, and the river was empty.

Satisfied, Alexander bent his head to meet her waiting lips once more. They tasted sweet and hungry, and he flicked his tongue over them. She groaned in response, and the noise set his heart racing further. He so loved to pleasure her, to feel her throbbing body beneath him.

Climbing onto his knees, he towered over her, straddling her. He eyed her body as she lay there, patient and waiting with lustful eyes. Her chest heaved, the curve of her breast rising and falling against the tight line of the gown. Alexander licked his lips in anticipation. She was at once vulnerable and lascivious, genteel and wild, and there was nowhere in the world he would rather be, no one he would rather be with.

He held his hand out, wanting to caress her, but he paused, hovering above her.

"What is it?" she asked.

He didn't know. He didn't want to push her, though he suspected she wanted this as much as he. He didn't want to rush, either. He wanted to savor every moment, every touch. He licked his lips again, unable to pull his eyes away from the mound of her breast. He lowered his hand, brushing the backs of his fingers over the curve before squeezing her gently.

Charlotte mewled like a puppy, throwing her head back in delight, and the sound made Alexander twitch with excitement. There was no holding himself back now. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

He lowered his head once more, but instead of kissing her mouth, he ran his lips across her chest, the line of the gown and the rich, bare flesh above it. Heat radiated from her, and she squirmed beneath him. He wanted this, needed it, but he knew he shouldn't. A woman as wonderful as Charlotte deserved so much more than this. So much more than him.

The river remained still but for their own capsized boat, and any rustling in the trees came from the animals. Alexander pressed his lips together, making a decision, then slowly inched her skirt up until it was around her waist. He looked first at the tops of her stockings, so tempting, so alluring.

Then he moved his gaze up to her sex, and there he stopped. He wanted her, more than anything, and seeing her laying there so bold and bare before him stirred an animalistic hunger in him. He reached forward and stroked the soft, downy hair, looking always at her womanhood and not at her, gently parting her but not quite penetrating her. Not quite invading that most secret of spaces.

Impatient, Charlotte raised her hips and groaned, urging him on, urging him faster, and Alexander felt another bolt of panic. How could he sully such a woman? How could he risk her reputation and future? What they shared was beautiful; it was love. But would anyone understand? His eyes shot to her face, his brows furrowed. He couldn't bear the thought of doing the wrong thing. He loved her more than he could imagine.

"What is it?" she asked again, lowering her hips slowly.

"Are… are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, his voice cracking with the emotion and desire coursing through his veins.

"More than anything in the world."

"But—"

"You will owe me nothing in return, if that is your concern," she said, smiling sweetly at him. "I want this as much as you, but do not worry, Alexander. I have no designs on you. I only crave you; I don't want you to stop."

Alexander frowned. Was he nothing but physical pleasure to her? No, surely not. Surely, she felt the love that swirled around them as much as he did.

"Don't stop," she repeated. "I am already an outcast. Making love won't change that. Enjoying you and what we share won't change that."

Alexander winced at the sting of her words. To think she believed herself so low hurt him, and he opened his mouth to speak. He would tell her everything, how he felt, what his intentions were. That he would repay her with marriage because now, that was all he wanted in the world. But before the words could form in the air, she sat up and kissed him with such force, such passion, that he they were swallowed in their act of love.

She reached down and brushed her fingers over the stretched fabric at his crotch, and Alexander shuddered. If he had any doubt about her desires, they dissipated, replaced by the need to drive himself into her. He pulled at his waistband, popping the button open. Charlotte giggled, biting her bottom lip and driving him wild. He shimmied the fabric from his hips, and the cool air hit his hot thighs.

"You're sure?" he repeated. Charlotte giggled again.

"Stop asking that, and please… I need it."

And she did. Her thighs raised, pressing against his, he could feel the slickness of her, the way her body cried out for him. He guided himself into her. She gasped; he paused, allowing her a moment to open to him, welcome him, become acclimated to him.

Then he pushed his hips against hers, causing her to moan loudly. Were he not in the throes of his own overwhelming passion, he would have been concerned that someone would hear, but instead he joined her noisemaking.

"Good Lord, you are everything," he said as he built up rhythm in his movements.

"Mm." Charlotte tried to speak but the words did not come, and seeing her so enthralled urged Alexander on.

His slow, steady pace built faster, and harder, the knot of love and need and confusion in his stomach tightening and tightening. Charlotte screwed her eyes closed, her moans louder still, and she reached up and grasped hold of his shirt, balling it up in her fists.

And as she experienced her release, clenching him tightly, his own tension unraveled, and he grunted with a final thrust. He fell to the ground next to her, the pair of the perspiring and spent.

Breathless, Charlotte muttered, "Goodness."

"Goodness indeed." Alexander buried his face in the crook of Charlotte's neck, inhaling the earthy scent of her. "You are truly magnificent, Charlotte. Never an outcast. Never forget."