The old woman at the third farm could not stop grinning and chuckling and exclaiming her delight that the earl was at last home, in his proper place, where he belonged. Edward accepted her endless praise with surprisingly good grace, though it was clear to Charlotte that he felt embarrassed.
Before they left, he brought in an armload of fresh wood from the shed to add to the pile of kindling by the hearth and was thanked repeatedly for his kindness.
Their final stop was at the largest farm, maintained by the Ross family. The sprawling cottage on this picturesque spread of land was made of stone and boasted a second floor. As with all the other places they had visited, Charlotte could see that the property was prosperous and well-maintained.
The woman who had answered their knock wore a lace cap and a white apron smudged with flour. She held a young toddler on her hip who was pulling at her hair and she shushed him nervously when he began to whimper. Her eyes widened when she recognized the earl, and looking slightly flustered, she curtsied, then called for her husband.
Mr. Ross invited them inside and they entered the comfortable house, the earl carrying the large basket, which was covered with a pretty red cloth. A fire blazed in the hearth and the smell of fresh gingerbread waffled through the air.
As he walked past Mrs. Ross, the baby in her arms grabbed for the shiny buttons on the earl's coat, managing to capture one in his chubby fist. His mother gasped in horror and tried to pry the little boy's fingers loose. Assuring her that no harm had been done, the earl reached out slowly, as if the toddler was a wild animal that might easily startle, and patted him gently on the head. "He is a fine boy, with his mother's pretty eyes. You must be very proud."
Mrs. Ross smiled for the first time since they had arrived and bade them to take a seat. They accepted a cup of tea, so as not to be rude, and though they were far from hungry, ate a slice of the freshly baked gingerbread. The earl made a great fuss over Mrs. Ross's baking talents, just as he had made a similar fuss over all the baked goods they had consumed that afternoon.
The children of the household, all five of them, were chased from the room, but Charlotte could see them peeking in, their eyes round with cautious curiosity. Since they were mostly under the age of ten, except for the oldest boy, she realized they had probably never seen Edward until this moment.
"We have brought you a small Christmas offering," the earl announced as the visit came to an end. "A token of good cheer to celebrate the season."
Charlotte was impressed with how Edward handled the exchange, making it seem as if the family were doing him a tremendous favor by accepting the gift. Mrs. Ross lifted the red cloth and exclaimed with sincere delight over its numerous contents, but it was the gaily wrapped presents that drew the eyes of each child.
"There is one for each of you, but you must promise to wait until Christmas morning to open them," the earl instructed.
They nodded solemnly, each child soon discerning which gift was their own. But it was young Martin's reaction that truly touched Charlotte. Though it was wrapped in fine brown paper and tied with a red satin ribbon, it was easy to tell from the size and shape of the package that Martin's gift was books.
His eyes lit with pure delight as he held the package reverently, obviously thrilled with the selection without even knowing the titles. Charlotte felt pleased to have contributed in some small way to the boy's Christmas delight.
A warm feeling settled over Charlotte on the sleigh ride home. It felt good to do for others, to share the bounty of Christmas, to be with Edward as he gave something of himself to his tenants by showing he held them in respect and with regard. It had been fun to be welcomed with genuine warmth by these good, hardworking families and interesting to see the earl's interaction with them.
Charlotte initially thought that Edward might become bored while at the manor, away from his business office in London, removed from the one thing that seemed to give him purpose and pleasure. But what was bred in the bones could not be easily ignored. He had been pleasant and at ease, even charming during the visits, a man relaxed in his element. It was that very charm that had first turned her head and drew her to him.
"You are very quiet," Edward said. "What are you thinking?"
The drowsy comfort of the warm feelings inside her allowed Charlotte to loosen her guard and she smiled. "I am thinking that I am very glad that Grandpapa and I came to the manor for Christmas this year."
He met her eyes and his answering smile was heart-stopping. "So am I."
Charlotte expected that dinner that evening might be simple fare, since the household was preparing for the Christmas Eve ball tomorrow night and Christmas day feast the following day. But from the moment she took her seat at the long dining table, with its chairs of burgundy velvet, she was served as elaborate a meal as any she had eaten since arriving at the manor.
There was the usual choice of two soups, three selections of fish, four different types of fowl, each served in its own special wine sauce, along with a large joint of beef roasted to perfection that the earl carved himself at the table. Complementing each course were numerous side dishes of potatoes prepared several different ways and vegetables swimming in rich butter and cream sauces.
Everyone ate heartily, their appetites no doubt stimulated by the vigorous outdoor activity of the morning and the fresh, cold air. But even the most ravenous of appetites could barely make a dent in the overabundance of food. Charlotte suspected these mountains of leftover food would most likely be enjoyed by the staff later tonight and tomorrow.
The gentlemen elected to forgo their cigars and brandy and joined the ladies as they left the dining room. As the party crossed the hallway, the level of happy chatter increased, blanketing the corridor. Everyone entered the drawing room to discover that two of the larger carpets had been rolled up and carried out while they were eating their meal. The countess then announced there would be dancing for those who wished to participate.
Lady Anne cheerfully took her position at the piano and began playing the first song. Edward appeared at Charlotte's side and claimed her hand. It was at that moment she recognized the familiar strains of the tune and realized she had never danced a waltz before with the earl.
He took her right hand in his left and put his other hand on her waist. His familiar, burning touch had Charlotte tensing immediately. Though she tried to prevent it, desire surged through her, a hot tide that swept her into an ocean of passion and need.
Edward's brow raised. "I think you have missed me in your bed, dear Charlotte."
"Not overly," she lied.
He gave her a skeptical smile. "Your body tells me differently."
Edward rocked forward in a gentle motion before moving his feet and Charlotte had to fight the urge to lean in to him, to press herself wantonly and inappropriately close. He was right-she had missed him in her bed, far more than she was willing to admit.
They had revolved twice around the room before Charlotte could catch her breath, before she could even attempt to master the sensation of being once again held in Edward's arms. Yet when she tried to speak, to carry on a casual conversation, emotions flooded and overpowered her, making words difficult to master and utter, like she was trying to capture fluffy snowflakes on a breeze.
She was too aware of him, too overpowered by him. The subtle brush of his legs against the silk of her gown, the intensity of his gaze as he looked down at her, his attention so absorbed in her every movement. Most unnerving of all, however, was how his eyes remained locked on her face, keen, observant and missing nothing.
"You dance very well," she finally managed to say. "Do you especially enjoy the waltz?"
The faint curve of his lips suggested he was very aware of the agitation of her heightened senses. "I enjoy all things immensely when you are my partner."
She had predicted his answer in her mind, but hearing the words fall from his lips excited her almost unbearably, for they both knew he was not only speaking of the dance.
It beckoned to be kissed, just as his body called out to be touched. She missed a step as the most insane urge to move her hand up to the back of his neck and caress his hair in an intimate fashion entered her thoughts.
She missed another step and Edward pulled her closer, helping her keep her balance so they would avoid bumping into any of the other couples. Charlotte told herself to relax, to give herself over to his care, but it was hard to relinquish the very thin hold she had over her emotions.
She had often thought it would be more enjoyable to be the one who leads in a dance, instead of the one who was pulled along, but at this moment she appreciated the skill, strength and control of her partner. Given the state of her current, heightened emotions, if she were in command she would most likely lead them into the fireplace.
They reached the end of the makeshift dance floor and Edward drew her even closer, sweeping her into the tight turn without missing a step. Charlotte felt the exhilaration within her flair, felt her skin flush and prickle. The desire in his eyes let her know what he was thinking, as they issued forth an invitation, a promise, that he almost dared her to take.
Resolved to finish their dance without totally disgracing herself, Charlotte bit her tongue and looked over Edward's shoulder. She followed him effortlessly into another turn, the feel of his broad shoulder beneath her hand soothing her nerves.
She allowed herself to be drawn a fraction closer and finally gave herself up to the pleasure of waltzing around the room in his arms. In an odd way they were in their own private world, alone even in the middle of a crowd. When she managed to look beyond the sexual tension, she found it was a comforting, special feeling.
Edward continued to hold her in his arms when the dance ended, releasing his possessive grip on her waist only after she gently reminded him the music had ceased. She curtseyed her farewell, but the earl grasped her hand, then raised it to his lips and brushed a slow kiss over her knuckles.
His eyes, nearly golden in the candlelight, never left hers. Charlotte's breath caught. Edward then turned her hand and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the top of her wrist, just above her glove.
It felt like a brand-hot, sensual, possessive. She knew what he was saying, understood his male, predatory need to mark her as his own. The atmosphere between them thickened, growing heavy with unspoken emotion.
"My dance, I believe, Worthington."
Lord Reginald's voice cut through Charlotte's haze, effectively breaking the spell. With a guilty flush she took her grandfather's arm, but when he realized the next set was a lively quadrille, Lord Reginald begged off and asked instead that she sit out the dance with him.
Relieved to be off the dance floor, Charlotte willingly accompanied her grandfather to a quiet corner.
"The countess mentioned that you were out with the earl for the better part of the afternoon. Did you go into town, perchance, to complete any lastminute Christmas shopping?"
"No, Grandpapa, we were visiting some of the tenant farms and delivering the holiday baskets."
"Ah, so your shopping is done? Good, very good. After all, tomorrow is Christmas Eve. It is never wise to wait until the very last minute to attend to these sort of important matters."
Charlotte tried to suppress a snort of laughter. His eagerness reminded her of the Ross children, so visibly excited when they caught a glimpse of their special holiday treats. "I can assure you, there is no need to worry, Grandpapa. Even though we are not at home, you will receive your usual gifts."
"A newly embroidered handkerchief?" Lord Reginald asked good-humoredly.
Charlotte folded her hands primly in front of her and lifted her chin. "I'm not saying. 'Tis to be a surprise."
"Do not be impudent, little miss," he said, dropping his voice so that it would not carry. "It ill becomes you.
Charlotte stared at her grandfather for a moment, then burst into giggles. Lord Reginald soon followed. "Shh, we must not appear to be having too much fun or else the wrong people willjoin us."
"The wrong people?"
"Like Lady Florence."
Charlotte frowned, but then remembered that her grandfather had been seated next to Lady Florence during dinner and the few times Charlotte had glanced in his direction she had noticed that the older woman had closely attended to Lord Reginald's conversation.
"Have you made a conquest, Grandpapa?"
Lord Reginald's face contorted into a comical look of horror. "I sincerely hope not." He lowered his voice further. "She is fine lady, of course, but my main fear is that she will seat herself with us and we shall be held hostage and forced to listen to the minutest details from her latest bird-watching expedition in Scotland."
"Hmm, that does not sound pleasant."
"Trust me, 'tis torturous."
Lord Bradford interrupted and requested the pleasure of the next dance and Charlotte accepted, deciding it might be wise to separate from her grandfather. She encouraged Lord Reginald to join in one of the card games and he kissed her cheek in gratitude, declaring she was a brilliant girl.
Lady Florence apparently did not enjoy cards.
The dance with ford Bradford was sedate and fun and she felt her calm returning. She danced next with Lord Haddon and after that with Mr. Dunaway. Out of the corner of her eye Charlotte noticed the earl approaching, but she managed to evade him and he ended up being partnered with Lady Haddon.
It was easier than turning him down, for she had already decided she would refuse if Edward asked her again, knowing she would not be able to keep her composure through another dance.
A sharp pinch at her wrist reminded Charlotte of the note, meant for Jonathan, that Evelyn had slipped to her after dinner. Charlotte had folded it to a very small size and pressed it inside the top of her glove to keep it safe.
Fortunately, the love note was hidden in the opposite hand that Edward had kissed after their dance, for he certainly would have seen it. Scanning the room anxiously, she spied Jonathan at the card table, charming Lady Johnson-Meyer, Grandpapa and Lord Bradford as they played a lively round of piquet.
Charlotte casually sauntered over in their direction and innocently inquired how the game was progressing. She stood behind Jonathan, gently resting her hand upon his shoulder. He stiffened slightly and she knew he had understood her unspoken message that she had a note for him. He turned his card and made a joke, then leaned back in his chair.
Charlotte, laughing along with everyone else, deliberately dropped her fan by Jonathan's chair. Stooping down to retrieve it, she let the hand that had been on his shoulder travel swiftly down his side. As she pretended to fumble with her fan, she pressed the note into the outside pocket of his evening coat. Straightening, she smiled as if nothing were amiss and made a lighthearted remark about her clumsy fingers.
The note safely delivered, Charlotte nevertheless stayed until the next hand was played, then with the parting advice to all to play fairly, she sauntered away, pleased to have successfully done her part.
However, what she had failed to notice were the earl's eyes, staring hard and curious at her, puzzlingly aware of her every movement.
Charlotte went to her bedchamber later that night in a state of confusion. Dancing with Edward had brought her physical needs to the surface again, and even though it was hours later, her body still tingled from the gentle fire of his touch.
She had deliberately avoided him for the remainder of the night, fearing he would ask if he could come to her bedchamber, or even worse, ask her to meet him somewhere in the house. The library, perhaps, where they had first made love?
Her eyes closed and her body flush
ed. If he had asked, she probably would not have refused. She had been out-of-sorts for several days now, so desperate to do something foolish and a clandestine meeting in the library would certainly qualify as a rash act.
Her fevered emotions made sleep impossible, and after tossing and turning for several hours Charlotte got out of bed. As she lit the candle by her bedside, she debated donning her robe, slipping from her room and surprising Edward in his bedchamber.
Tempting as it was, Charlotte told herself it was prudent to resist the urge, for indulging in the physical side of their relationship only confused her further. She was still fumbling in her mind with her decision when she noticed something on the floor near her door.
Curious, she moved closer and discovered a piece of parchment. Further investigation revealed it was a sealed note, with her name scrawled elegantly on the front.
Recognizing the penmanship, Charlotte picked up the note and brought it closer to the light. Realizing it had been left beneath her door so she would find it in the morning, Charlotte quickly broke the seal and read the contents:
Dear Charlotte,
As you read this note I feet certain the household is in an uproar. Evelyn has disappeared, but do not fear for her safety. She is with me and we have left to start our life together. I thank you for all your help; without you our dreams could never have been realized. Do not fear, I shall never tell anyone of the important role that you played in bringing us together, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being such a true and loyal friend.
With deepest affection, Jonathan
Charlotte finished reading the brief message and closed her eyes in alarm. She could hear Jonathan's cheerful voice in every line, could imagine his excitement and delight at the turn of events. But this was disastrous!
Without a moment's hesitation, she pulled on her dressing gown and ran from the chamber, hoping she would be able to find Edward's bedchamber in the numerous, winding hallways.
The Christmas Heiress Page 24