Charlotte shut her eyes, overtaken by the music, overwhelmed by the heated touch of the man who was spreading her folds and tasting her as if she were the best food and wine. As the music built to its first crashing crescendo, she tensed. Colin was licking her in time to the rhythm, sucking her clit, stroking his fingers along her wet slit and finally driving inside of her.
Pleasure wound its way through her body, but this time it wasn’t urgent or overpowering. It swirled through her, as pleasing as the music she played. It touched every part of her from the roots of her hair to her toes as they curled in her slippers. Her body felt weightless, floating in time to the music, moving in time to Colin’s touch.
She felt him pull away from her, but didn’t despair. She was too wrapped up in the pure passion of the moment. She continued to play, pouring all the desire she felt for him into the notes, continuing to writhe in pure ecstasy as she awaited his return.
He wasn’t gone for long. She felt his heat wrap around her from behind and realized he had stripped his own clothing away. He reached around, deftly avoiding her arms so as not to disturb her music, and cupped her breasts. Charlotte moaned, but to her overstimulated mind it almost sounded like a note in the piece. She arched back against him, surrendering fully as he spread her legs a bit wider, tilted her hips.
And then he was inside of her. Her fingers clanged against the keys as she cried out, but she forced herself to keep her eyes closed. She didn’t want to lose the magic of the moment by separating the music from the power of their lovemaking.
“God,” he groaned as he filled her completely. His hand smoothed along her spine and fingers tangled in her hair before he started to move.
Like he had with his tongue, he drove his hips in time to the music. The second powerful crescendo was coming, and Charlotte found herself pounding her hips back to greet his thrusts in time to the composition’s beat. The pleasure that had been twisting through her like a lazy snake suddenly took on a more purposeful drive. She rolled her hips against him, panting and moaning as it grew ever higher, ever more pronounced and finally, just as she crashed out powerful notes, her eyes flew open, her hands fell from the keys, and an orgasm that nearly took her breath roared through her.
Colin held her close through her crisis and then drove against her a few more times before he withdrew and she felt the heat of his release against her back.
Together, they leaned against the piano, their breath sucking in and out in perfect time.
“You see, Charlotte,” he said as he kissed her sweaty neck gently. “Infinite variety.”
“I will give you that, my lord,” she said with a laugh as she peeled away from his embrace to grasp her dress. Pulling it back up around her, she held still as he began to fasten her buttons.
He pressed a final kiss to her neck from behind. “And besides, all those other women did not have the one thing that you most definitely do.”
“And what is that?” Charlotte asked with a smile, ready to have him tease her in reply.
Instead, he grasped her shoulders and turned her around to face him. Suddenly his face was serious, despite that fact that he was standing naked in the middle of her music room.
“My heart, Charlotte,” he whispered. “No one but you has ever had my heart.”
Charlotte stared at him as her world came to a complete halt. Was he toying with her? No, his face was utterly earnest. Honest. This was not part of some game.
Her blood whooshed in her ears as she continued to stare at him. What could she say to that declaration? Hell, how should she feel?
“Say something,” he murmured, searching her face for her reaction.
The reaction she couldn’t seem to have, she was so utterly confused. Finally, she merely shook her head and ran away.
Chapter 6
Charlotte paced the length of her chamber, her head spinning. For so many years, she had longed for Colin to make the admission he had made in the music room. She had gone so far as to utterly humiliate herself in that hope.
But now that he had said it, all she felt was fear. Pure, unadulterated terror. There was no way he could mean those beautiful words. A man like Colin would never love, never settle down with just one woman, no matter what he said about infinite variety.
She shook her head. He had said the words in the heat of passion. That was all.
As she paced, she passed by the dressing table where she and Colin had left their washbasin full of fantasies. Charlotte stopped moving and stared at them. Colin had written sexual things here. And they could serve as reminders that all he wanted was her body. No matter what he said in the afterglow, the things he wrote were more truthful than his words.
She reached into the bowl and drew out a sheet of paper. She opened it. Colin’s hand greeted her.
I wish to eat a meal from your lush body. And you are my dessert.
Well, no wonder he’d been so excited when she mentioned food. She shivered as she set the fantasy aside and drew another paper. This was hers and she discarded it for a third. Colin again.
I want to make love to you outside. But since it is cold enough to kill us, I would settle for your orangery, surrounded by flowers and plants.
She smiled. Again, he had tapped into one of her passions to mix with his fantasy.
She pulled another paper and unfolded it.
Let me love you, Charlotte. Give me another chance to make you mine, not just in body, but in spirit, in soul. Forever. Let me love you.
Her heart lodged in her throat as she read the words again and again. She dropped the paper, letting it flutter to the floor like one of the puffy snowflakes outside her window.
Unlike his statement downstairs, she could not dismiss this as meaningless words spoken in passion. They had both been quite calm when they wrote down their fantasies.
Colin had wanted her love even then. And from the wording of that “fantasy,” it wasn’t just for a fling. He said forever.
Forever with Colin.
No, that was impossible. And it was about time she explained to him why.
Colin surged to his feet with a start when the door to the parlor flew open and Charlotte barged inside. She held a piece of paper in her hand, which trembled wildly as she marched inside and closed the door behind her.
“What is the meaning of this, Colin?” she asked, holding out the paper.
He didn’t have to look at it to know what it was, but he did regardless. It was one of the fantasies he had scribbled down that morning. His ultimate fantasy. The only one that really mattered to him.
“It means exactly what it says,” he said softly, even though her response meant everything. And this was not the one he had hoped for when he came here.
“What kind of game is this?” she snapped.
He moved on her as desperation unlike anything he had ever known swelled in his chest. He supposed he deserved it. He’d fallen in love, and now he was going to have to deal with everything that came along with that. Including a need to prove himself to the utterly tempting woman who stood, trembling, before him.
“There is no game, Charlotte.” He shook his head in frustration. “I meant every word I wrote on that paper. And every word I said to you in the music room earlier today. I am in love with you.”
She bit back a cry, but from her expression, it was not one of pleasure. It was a sound of pain. Anguish.
“I came to you, I stood before you seven years ago, and I offered my heart to you,” she whispered, her tone harsh. “And you refused me. You do not love me.”
Colin squeezed his eyes shut and thought of the night to which she referred. She had been twenty and he twenty-three. He was just coming into himself in Society, just realizing how much power he could wield with a smile, a wink.
One night Charlotte had appeared in his chambers, un-escorted and uninvited. She had confessed that she wanted to be more than his friend. She had laid her heart out to him, much like he was doing now.
But youth a
nd fear and a longing to experience more of life before he settled down had won out over the curious draw he felt toward her. Colin had refused her, as kindly as he could. Even as a callow youth, he had known he hurt her deeply. Their friendship had barely survived it.
“Do you not believe a person can change in seven long years?” he asked. “I was hardly more than a boy when you came to me. And a very stupid one at that.”
“And why have you never said anything to me before now?” she asked, her hands still shaking, her voice quavering just as hard.
He shook his head. “You married someone else. I didn’t want to ruin your marriage or our remaining friendship by telling you my feelings had changed. And then your husband died.”
Charlotte sucked in her breath. “You could have told me then.”
He barked out a humorless laugh. “God knows I wanted to. I could have screamed it from the rooftops on the day of his funeral, but that would have been wrong. I realized it was better to bide my time, allow you to complete your mourning. Only I waited too long. When I found out Darnell asked you to marry him, I panicked because I knew I might lose you again.”
“So you followed me here,” she whispered, her voice barely carrying in the quiet room.
He nodded once. “I did.”
Charlotte swallowed hard and her eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at him. “But you-you said you came here to meet with my brother. You lied.”
He held up his hands in acknowledgment of what he’d done. “I had no choice. I didn’t want to burst into your home and simply blurt out my heart. I feared you would be too shocked to accept it. My hope was that if I won your body, I could win your heart. But make no mistake, Charlotte. I came here for you. For all of you.”
Colin took a few long breaths before he moved forward and took both her hands. Charlotte flinched when he touched her, but she didn’t pull away. She only stared at him, still filled with disbelief and confusion.
“I came here because I love you. You owe me no quarter and I deserve none, but I hope that there is something in you that still wants me. Wants me for more than just your bed.” He released one of her hands and brushed his fingertips along her satin cheek. “Please, Charlotte.”
There was a long moment of silence in the room, and finally Charlotte spoke. Her voice cracked.
“You are right, Colin. So much can change in seven years. When I came to you that night, when I offered my heart to you, I was young and naïve. I didn’t know what kind of damage a man like you could do. When you refused me, it broke my heart. I thought I would never want anyone else.”
She pulled away from him, pacing across the room restlessly. “And then I met Griffin Kendrick. I can admit now that I married him because he was…” One glance over her shoulder was all she afforded him. “…you. He was a wit. A rake. He even looked like you in some light.”
Colin flinched, but let her continue uninterrupted, as difficult as it was.
She shook her head. “He tried to be a good husband, God knows he tried. But he couldn’t fight his nature. Ultimately, he only wanted me until he had me. Then the desire faded. He found other women to fill his time and his bed. By the time he died, we sometimes only spoke when we said a passing hello in the hallway.”
“I would never—”
She spun on him, anger in her gaze. “Do not say you would never, for you have no idea. And it was one thing to experience that kind of pain and humiliation from him. It would be far worse from someone I love.”
Now it was Colin’s turn to let his mouth drop open in shock. “You love me still?”
“Of course I do,” Charlotte said, though there was no pleasure in her voice or her face. “I always have. And being here with you, feeling your arms around me, having this time alone when we could be friends and lovers…it only made it stronger, no matter how much I hoped it would make the feeling lessen.”
“Then we should be together,” he insisted.
She lifted a hand to ward him off when he moved toward her. “No.”
It was one word, but it was spoken with such finality and conviction that it stopped Colin cold.
“No?” he repeated.
“I may love you, but I wish I didn’t. And I certainly don’t want a life with you. There is nothing you can say to convince me that you could stay faithful. That your heart would stay true to me.” She frowned, an expression so sad that it broke his heart as much as her words. “I won’t go through that a second time. Not with you, Colin. With you it would break me.”
Colin stared at her. As a child, he had always admired the stubborn set of her jaw. How she could make up her mind to do something and see it through no matter how difficult a task it was.
Now he hated those things he’d once admired. They meant his doom. His loss. His heartbreak.
“The storm is easing,” Charlotte said softly as she turned away to stare out the window. “I think you should go and leave me to consider the offer I was made.”
Colin flinched at her coldness. It made him angry.
“You are a coward,” he snapped. “You run from love because it is frightening, you deny yourself happiness because of the chance of heartache.”
“You are correct, Colin,” she said without turning. “So you would be better off not to waste your time here any longer.”
He stared at her stony back. Then he executed a quick bow. “Very well, my lady. I shall depart at first light tomorrow and leave you to your peace as you require.”
Then he turned on his heel and left the room. He did not look back, so he did not see Charlotte slip to her knees and sob silently into her hands.
Chapter 7
February 13, 1814
Charlotte braced herself against the cold and stepped from her carriage. After two long days in the cramped and uncomfortable quarters of her carriage, traveling along snowy and sometimes dangerous roads, she was finally back home in London.
Back to her real life. No longer the fantasy Colin had tried to create for her. After he had gone, she had tried to forget what had happened, but it was impossible. In the end, she had moved into a new set of quarters just to sleep at night.
But her dry, tired eyes mocked her. There had been no rest, no dreams that didn’t involve Colin. Nothing had erased what had happened between them, no matter how far away she pushed him or how hard she ran.
She trudged toward her London home as if she were returning to a firing squad. One comprised of one man who wanted to marry her. She was not looking forward to refusing her second proposal in less than a week, but it was what had to be done. Lawrence Darnell was a good man and at least deserved a bride who wasn’t desperately in love with a man she refused to have.
The door opened, and her London butler met her with a wide smile.
“Welcome home, my lady,” he said as he ushered her in and took her wrap. “We have missed you.”
“Thank you, Weasley.” Charlotte touched the elderly man’s hand briefly before she removed her damp gloves. “I trust all was well in my absence?”
“Of course, madam. There are several messages for you from Mr. Darnell, as well as Ladies Chatsford and Meyerscrosse. Oh, and your brother is in the parlor.”
Charlotte had hardly been attending, but now she let out a groan. “Damien is here?”
“Yes, my lady. He seemed to know of your impending arrival and refused to leave until he had an audience with you.” Her butler smiled, accustomed to her brother’s demands and theatrics.
“Thank you, Weasley. Please do send in tea directly,” she said as she strode down the hall to the parlor.
The last person she wanted to see at present was her brother. Damien would only bring up more memories of Colin. The two had been inseparable as boys and remained best friends even now.
Besides, her brother was almost always in some fix, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with his latest disaster.
But she had little choice, so she pushed the door open and affixed a false smile on h
er face.
“Damien,” she said as she crossed the room to him.
He turned at the sound of her voice and a bright smile lit up his face. She suppressed a sigh as she kissed both his cheeks. No one could resist her brother’s charms.
“It’s about time you made your way home,” Damien said as he leaned back against the mantel with a playful scowl. “I was worried sick.”
She shook her head and gave his arm a little slap before she sat down in the nearest comfortable chair. “You have never been worried sick about anyone in your life, Damien.”
His brow furrowed. “What a perfectly awful thing to say.”
Now Charlotte laughed, and it actually felt good. “And true, admit it.”
“Sometimes true. But not today.” Her brother shook his head. “I’ll tell you who I am worried sick about. Colin. What in God’s name did you do to my friend?”
All the good-natured fun Charlotte had been allowing herself to have bled away as she stared up at her brother. She felt the blood draining from her face, rushing to her racing heart and filling her ears with a horrible whooshing that she could not shake away.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said slowly. No matter how close Damien and Colin were, she doubted—or at least hoped—that Colin wouldn’t go so far as to share his plans of seduction with her own brother.
“Perhaps not, but he returned to London in a wretched mood. I’ve only ever seen him like that once before, after you got married. So forgive me if I suspect your involvement in his current spiral into melancholy.”
Charlotte blinked, sudden tears stinging her eyes. She was the one responsible for Colin’s mood. He thought himself in love with her and she had refused him—not to hurt him, though, never to hurt him. Just to protect herself from the empty and painful future she was certain surrender would lead to.
“I’m sure any melancholy Colin feels will fade quickly enough,” she said softly. “Whatever it was caused by. A few women in his bed and he’ll—”
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