Charlotte Page 8

  “My dear,” Nell said, her smile wide. “I’ve never heard anything quite so wonderful. Amelia…”

  While the other two ladies enthused about having another helper, Charlotte squared her shoulders. She was now an independent wife, and tomorrow she planned to see a man about a house.

  Chapter 7

  Smoke furled at head height, masking the dim lights in Spenders, the most popular gambling rooms in Stepney, a seedy area close to the city of Adelaide. The drunk, the sober, the clean, and the unwashed stood four deep around the gaming tables. Nick glanced at the finger-marked roulette table, wondering if he wanted to place a bet.

  Mrs. Beth Blocker, her brown hair upswept, dressed in a pink satin crinoline and long white gloves, leaned forward to place a sovereign on the table. “Red seven,” she said to the croupier, a man with sloping shoulders and a sharp nose.

  “Imagine seeing you here,” said a sardonic voice behind Nick.

  He turned, eyeing Luke, dressed formally in black trousers and a tailed jacket. “Imagine seeing you here.”

  Behind, a group of young bloods noisily disputed a game of faro. Two ladies of the night in ankle length gaudy gowns wandered around the room, scanning for likely customers.

  “Do you plan to introduce me to your friend?” Luke stared through the gloom at Beth.

  “Mrs. Blocker, Mr. Worthing,” Nick said curtly.

  Beth smiled and Luke raised his eyebrows. With a shrug, she turned back to the wheel. When her money went into the pile in front of the croupier, she put out her hand. Nick filled her palm with more gold coins.

  “A never ending pastime.” Luke watched the wheel spin. “It surprises me that this doesn’t bore you.”

  “Did you enjoy the regatta on Saturday?” Nick blew a ring of smoke into the fog above their heads. Yellow nicotine stains patterned the ceiling.

  “Certain aspects,” Luke answered casually. “I might have enjoyed it more if you’d had the trouncing you deserved.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ll ever see that.”

  “What I do see is a married man with his mistress.”

  Nick shrugged. “I don’t hide her.”

  “What does Charlotte think about Mrs. Blocker?”

  “Charlotte doesn’t think anything about anything.”

  “She doesn’t know.” Luke faced Nick, his expression serious. “But she’ll hear if you can’t be a little more discreet.”

  “I can’t be.”

  “Curse you, Nick. Why didn’t you escort your wife to the Grace’s supper dance tonight instead?”

  Nick lifted his glass, checking the level. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m sure my lack of availability won’t spoil her pleasure.”

  Luke gave a snort that could have been a laugh. “I wouldn’t know about her pleasure since Miss Page is staying overnight with the Graces. She didn’t need Charlotte’s chaperonage.”

  Nick drew his eyebrows together. “Charlotte didn’t attend the supper dance?”

  “She accepted an invitation from Tony instead, according to Miss Page.”

  “She’s with Tony?” Nick’s blood began a slow boil. The kiss at the regatta should have ended Tony’s insane pursuit.

  Luke pursed his lips. “What sort of husband doesn’t know how his wife amuses herself?”

  Nick gave a deliberately offensive leer. “I may be a very understanding husband, but I won’t leave Tony to ride my wife whenever he chooses.” A punch at his shoulder caught him by surprise. So, too, did the shocked expression on Luke’s face.

  “Rephrase that. You won’t leave Tony to ride with her whenever he chooses. Say it,” Luke demanded in a set voice.

  “Damn you.” Teeth clenched, Nick raised his forearm and blocked Luke’s next blow. “You won’t get another hit in, and you know it. You caught me by surprise the first time. I hadn’t realized you were so loyal to Tony.”

  “Tony doesn’t need my support. Charlotte does. You should be defending her against gossip, not spreading it. You can’t honestly believe Tony would have an affair with your wife.”

  Nick bared his teeth in a hard smile. “Tony is accustomed to taking whatever he wants.”

  “If he is seeing her, he probably thinks she needs support. I certainly do. And I intend to be her friend if she will have me as such.”

  “Perhaps you would be better off befriending a wife of your own.”

  Luke gave a scathing laugh. “Damn you, too. I was befriending her until you snatched her from behind my back. If I ever have an opportunity to serve you the same backhanded turn you served me, I’ll take it.”

  “You’ve always had the same opportunities as I have.” Nick stepped back and hid his expression by flicking ash from his shirtfront. “But I’ve yet to see you take one.” He reached over, circled his fingers around Beth’s elbow, kissed her bare shoulder, and, despite her vehement protest, guided her to a Hackney waiting outside. He left her at her front door and went home.

  His wife had a lesson to learn.

  * * * *

  Charlotte entered her lamp-lit sitting room, stripping off her long gloves. For the first time in her married life, Nick’s bedroom door stood agape. She veered as his shadow appeared, blocking all but a halo of light from his room. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  Nick yawned, rubbing his hair into a tousle. Beneath his gold brocaded dressing robe, only his white toes showed. “I was dozing. What’s the time?” His sleepy gaze examined her face.

  “Around midnight.” She reached for the bell-pull near the fireplace.

  “No, don’t disturb Vera.” He moved toward her, his face expressionless. “I’ll help you.”

  “She’ll be waiting for me to summon her.”

  “I told her she could retire an hour ago.”

  “I’m happy enough to leave her to her rest.” She turned her back, lifting the curls off her neck, waiting for him to undo her gown as before. “In fact, I told her I can manage alone, but she would have none of it. I’ve managed alone for twen—”

  “We can talk while you’re undressing.” He put an arm around her and steered her into her bedroom.

  She broke his hold. She had no intention of disrobing while he was in her room. Their marriage of convenience did not allow such an intimacy. Staring at him, she dropped her reticule onto her dressing table, followed by her silk shawl.

  However, ignoring her silent rebellion, he spun her around and began on the buttons at the back of her gown. “Where have you been tonight?” His breath stirred the curls on the nape of her neck. A shiver of apprehension cooled her skin.

  “At the Hawthorn’s house. I meant to accompany Sarah to the Grace’s supper dance, but Daphne invited her to stay the night. I saw my presence as superficial.”

  “Superfluous. You could have gone, nonetheless. I doubt you would have suffered a dearth of dancing partners while Luke was there.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder while he concentrated on her buttons. “I would have been quite bored, you know, standing around when I had other things to do. Then Nell sent a message via Tony asking me to join her at home and I was reprieved.” Holding her loosened red and white bodice to her chest, she stepped behind the dressing-screen, nervous that he might follow. When he didn’t, she began to disrobe.

  “How long have you known Nell and Tony?” His tone sounded set.

  She stepped out of her gown. “Six months or so. I met them in Stirling while I was staying with the Graces at their country property.”

  “Hmm. Just after Nell announced her interesting condition. He loves her, Charlotte. He’ll cut you when she’s had the baby.”

  She paused, considering. Although she would happily be cut by Tony, she liked Nell. Despite Charlotte being some years younger and not about to be a mother, they shared a common interest. “I don’t think he will. It would look so very rude, wouldn’t it, while I enjoy Nell’s good graces?” Slinging her gown over the scr
een, she peered around the carved edge. Nick was sitting on the side of her bed, staring in her direction.

  “Everyone enjoys her good graces.” He frowned. “She is one of the most sensible women you could meet. Usually,” he added with a puzzled lift of his shoulders.

  “Um… My nightgown is under my pillow. Would you mind handing it to me?”

  “You won’t need it.” He swung his bare feet onto her bed, leaning back against the carved headboard and crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I don’t know you well enough to appear in front of you in my chemise.”

  “You’re married to me, for God’s sake. I’m sure I won’t be the first person to see you partially disrobed.”

  Her cheeks hot, she came out from behind the screen, snatched at her nightgown, and took the garment back with her. Breathing hard, she removed her chemise, donned the lacy gown, and chin raised, she moved out to her dressing table. In silence, she began removing her hairpins. She slapped a handful onto the polished satinwood while she watched him in the mirror, wondering why he stayed if he only wanted to be disobliging. His gaze connected with hers in the reflection. He looked…lonely.

  “Any time you want to join me, or us, you only have to say so. You are included in every invitation I accept,” she said, reluctantly.

  “I wasn’t included tonight.”

  “You weren’t even home when I received the note.”

  “And what would have happened had I borne you company?”

  “You would have been mightily bored. Amelia was there, too, and we mainly talked about babies.”

  “What did you contribute?”

  “Very little. I don’t know anything about babies.” She began to brush her hair.

  “Only how to make them.”

  She stood and turned to face him. “Thank you for waiting up for me, but I think I’ll go to bed now.”

  “Is that a dismissal?”

  “Stay if you wish,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t. She put her brush down, walked to her bed, lifted the covers, and slipped in. “I used to talk to Sarah at night, and I found that very comforting.”

  His lips pursed. “So, I can stay if we talk about gowns?” He lifted off the bed and removed his dressing robe. Beneath, he wore trousers, but his chest was bare, the smooth white skin stretched tight across his muscles.

  Without a doubt, she had married a man she could happily gaze at from dawn to dusk. She drew a long breath. If he meant to share her bed, she could talk to him, and perhaps eventually they would become…friends? She didn’t need his heart.

  “Sarah and I didn’t discuss gowns. She isn’t interested in fashions. We simply chatted about life and our hopes and dreams.”

  He climbed in and turned to her, scrutinizing her face. “Which I mean to do. My first hope is that you won’t see Tony again.”

  “You’re saying you don’t want me to go out into society?” she asked, her chest beginning to thump.

  “I don’t want you to go out into his society.”

  “If you think he is talking about you or questioning me about you, you’re mistaken. I don’t think he has ever—”

  “The man’s not a fool. Of course he—”

  “Well, I don’t want you to go out gambling.” She folded her arms.

  “What?”

  “And I don’t want you to drink so much. I’d like you to come home a little earlier occasionally, and I think you ought to help your father.” She firmed her jaw.

  “Help my father do what?” He sat forward, his face rigid.

  “He wants you to learn how to run his businesses.”

  His lips compressed. While he focused his frowning gaze on the opposite wall, she touched his forearm.

  “Surely you know that.”

  “He has made an occasional mention,” he said in a heavy tone. He swiveled away and turned down the lamp. His upper body brushed against her. Surprisingly, he dipped his head and pressed a kiss on her lips.

  “You’re not cross?”

  “I’m not sure.” He kissed her again.

  Her hand lifted to his shoulder, but before she had time to turn her head, he gave her a third kiss. This one lingered until surprise left and pleasure began, and guilt. She’d meant to shove him away if he’d tried to kiss her again, but instead she flattened her palm and pushed against him but so half heartedly that he seemed not to notice. He put one hand behind her head and the other on the curve of her spine. Despite knowing he couldn’t be enjoying this, she accepted his experimentation in breathless silence. When his hard male part pressed between the juncture of her legs, her treacherous body lurched with hope, or desire, and she couldn’t fight her need to be held by him, nor her need to touch him.

  She folded her fingers around his heavy male part, which appeared to be bare. The intense pleasure of the intimacy heated her into a full body blush. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she breathed heavily. For a moment, he didn’t move, but then he pulled back against her palm. Guiltily, she dropped her hold.

  He exhaled with a hiss. Then he gave a short harsh laugh. The bed trembled as he rolled over, presenting his back to her. While she agonized about him being repulsed by her touch, his breaths grew deeper. He seemed to have fallen into a sound sleep.

  Although she had accepted that she would never experience the pleasure of the flesh, she ached for the unknown.

  Chapter 8

  Pre-breakfast gallops were not Nick’s style, but last night he’d slept without waking. Perhaps having an early night helped. Perhaps sleeping with his wife helped. When he slept with her, he knew where she was.

  He reached the parklands. Despite the cover of the trees, he spotted Tony riding his big black alongside Charlotte, impeccable in her tailored outfit and her green-feathered hat.

  “Good morning,” Nick shouted, determinedly loud enough to set a family of magpies fluttering.

  The couple reined in. Tony turned and tipped his hat.

  Charlotte showed a face covered with black netting. “Good morning, Nick,” she said in a constrained voice as his horse sidled up to hers.

  He had expected nothing more. Her stealthy movements in the dawn light had awoken him, and he had remained ostensibly asleep in her bed. After she’d left, he hastily donned his clothes and strode to the stables, intent on catching her at her sneaky little game.

  “Escort Mrs. Alden home, Rob,” he said in a curt voice to the young groom who accompanied him. “I want a few words with Mr. Hawthorn.”

  “It’s not necessary.” Charlotte shifted her reins to her other hand.

  “Didn’t you promise to love, honor, and obey me?”

  Charlotte nodded slowly, and without further ado, she moved her horse to Rob’s, which baulked.

  “This here pony don’t like Red Robin.” Rob’s mouth turned down. “Mortal enemies, they is.”

  “Nevertheless, you will accompany my wife home.”

  “I’ll ride in front, Rob,” Charlotte said, her posture precise and her instructions to her prancing horse invisible. “The dun never minds following.”

  With a resigned shrug, Rob left behind Charlotte. Nick leaned over to control his horse that showed a willingness to bite Tony’s, acting out his rider’s desires.

  Before Nick could form his words Tony said, “I hear you want Charlotte to cut herself off from society the way you have.”

  “Not all society. Just you.”

  Tony’s lips stretched and turned down at the corners. “Nell says our occasional morning meetings are causing talk. Normally, she rides with me, but with our baby due soon, she just isn’t up to it.”

  “I’ve been accused of being disreputable, but you take the prize.”

  Tony frowned. “The talk doesn’t bother me.”

  “The talk bothers Charlotte’s husband.”

  “Why? She and I ride together in full view of the world.”

  Nick gave a snort of disgust. “You should have
set up Charlotte in a house of her own before I married her. You can surely afford it.”

  Tony looked down his nose at Nick. “She was already in a house of her own with her cousin, which is far more acceptable to society.”

  “In what way could that possibly be acceptable?” Nick asked, his voice tight with fury. His horse lunged at Tony’s black, which reared.

  “Steady on.”

  Tony fought his nervy horse while Nick backed his. After some seconds of skirting each other, the horses finally calmed enough to stand nose to nose, breathing heavily.

  “Miss Page is a perfectly respectable chaperone,” Tony said.

  “Do you usually set up a mistress with a chaperone?”

  “Steady on,” Tony said again, but this time to Nick. “You implied on your wedding day that you and Charlotte had a previous liaison. If she was anyone’s mistress, she was yours, information that completely surprised me.”

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “On the night of your ball, I asked why you were so set on marrying her off to me and you said—let me let me think of your exact words—you had an ‘interest’ in her. If you weren’t tupping her, what was the interest that you refused to discuss when I asked you?”

  Tony’s black shifted restively. “At that stage, I was interested in averting a scandal. You were found with her in my garden, her gown ripped from the shoulder to the waist. You refused to explain yourself.” He shook his head. “What society saw was a young innocent virgin whose reputation had just been shot to pieces, nobly protecting the reputation of a drunken sot.”

  “Nobly,” Nick repeated, twisting his mouth. “Sometimes I wonder if she is as ingenuous as she seems.”

  Tony rubbed his chin. “You wonder? Don’t you know?”

  “We’ve had few conversations,” Nick said, hoping to imply a more intimate relationship. He could at least set himself up as competition for Tony.

  Tony examined his expression. “How much do you know about her?”

  “She’s a respectably born orphan educated with the daughters of the best families, with whom she associates. She has no great fortune and a dependent cousin.” Nick offered a satisfied smile, hoping his glibness hid his ignorance, which he’d only just realized. When he’d agreed to marry Charlotte, his only thought was gaining an heir.