A Touch of Temptation: House of Devon Book 2

by St. Clair, Ellie

  A fool who had fallen for the charm that he used on everyone but her.

  He was too handsome for his own good, too charming, too friendly, too flirtatious. It was the side he presented to the world, but she was the one who knew him better than anyone else, save, perhaps, his mother. She knew that he secretly loved drinking chocolate in the morning, and that his mother would make him a cup now and then for a treat. She knew that he often snuck out to the stables to speak to the horses, for he found their company comforting. And she knew that a piece of him lamented the fact that the relationship with his other childhood best friend was now one of employer and servant.

  He stood there in the doorway, looking down at her with his arms crossed and a smile on his face, as always, although his smile now had changed. It looked somewhat worried, and she forced a bright expression to her own, attempting to mask what was in actuality the turmoil within her.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Of course,” she said, breaking the connection of their gaze and returning to her scrubbing. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, walking into the room, and she waved him away from the section she had already scrubbed so that he wouldn’t leave footprints. “It just seems like lately something is amiss. You aren’t yourself.”

  “No?” she said. “I didn’t think you would have had any time to notice.”

  “Ahh,” he said, and she despised the smugness that entered his voice. “You think I have been spending too much time with Lily.”

  “You are spending a great deal of time with her for a man who is betrothed to another.”

  “But, Charlotte… this is why we began this charade.”

  “Yes, but we are the only ones who know that. It looks bad on me that my betrothed is much more interested in another woman.”

  “Nobody cares.”

  “Oh, but they do,” she said, regretting the despair that had entered her voice. “I hear them whispering when they think I don’t know, giggling when they see you sequestered away in the corner with her. I am looking like a fool.”

  She looked up to see remorse flash over his face.

  “I’m sorry, Lottie. I never meant for that to happen.”

  “Well, it has.”

  “I thought you were interested in Stuart.”

  She shrugged. “He’s handsome enough, but he asks me the most ridiculous questions. He seems to want to get to know me, but his interest seems… contrived.”

  Philip nodded thoughtfully. “I would agree. There is something off about the man.”

  “There is. And the same could be said about Lily.”

  “Lottie…”

  “I mean it, Philip. The way she looks at me… it is as though she is attempting to challenge me, that she is going out of her way to take you from me.”

  “Well, should we not let her? Is that not what we are doing?”

  Charlotte sighed. “I suppose, Philip.” When he didn’t move, she looked up from her scrubbing. “What?”

  “You seem… too melancholic for me to leave you.”

  “I wish you would. I came up here to be alone, and you are ruining my plans.”

  “You’ve never been one to enjoy being alone.”

  “Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  Her words came out much harsher than she intended, and he knelt in front of her, tugging the front of her white mobcap.

  “Charlotte, don’t be like that,” he said, his voice softer now, and she attempted to push him away, but he wouldn’t leave her be.

  “Go away, Philip.”

  “I’m not leaving you like this.”

  “I wish you would,” she said, as, to her horror, she felt tears beginning to build behind her eyelids and a lump forming in her throat.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing!” Why would he not just leave?

  “Come here.” He reached out his arms toward her, and she tried to push him away, but he overwhelmed her. He took the cloth out of her hands and placed it on the floor beside them as he wrapped his arms around her, picked her up, and took her in his lap right there on the floor. He crushed her to him in an embrace, one that was meant to comfort her, she knew. She tried once more to push him away, but her actions were futile.

  Instead, he hugged her tight, and she finally gave in and allowed herself this moment to be held, to be comforted by the very man who was causing her such anguish.

  She hated to admit that, for a moment, it was nice.

  Until nice began to shift, and suddenly, the air around them seemed to still and the hug between friends became something more.

  * * *

  Philip had simply meant to comfort her. He knew Charlotte well enough to sense when she was distressed. The worst of it was that he could tell that he was the one who had caused such anguish, and he had no idea why. He remembered his mother’s words a couple of weeks ago, that someone was going to be hurt by all of this.

  But how could it, when nothing had changed between him and Charlotte, who remained the best of friends?

  When he had picked her up off the floor, her mobcap had come loose, falling beside them. In the process, some of her thick dark curls fell out of their pins and remained loose around her face, right under his nose. He inhaled the scent of lemon, which he knew she added to her soap, as his mother snuck them to her.

  She smelled so good. So fresh, so… Charlotte.

  As he inhaled, his other senses became heightened, and he slowly became aware of all that was pressed against him. Of the top of her head, tucked under his chin, that seemed to fit just perfectly into the groove below his shoulder. Of the side of her ample breast that pushed into his chest. Of her firm bottom that was sitting right on top of his lap, that suddenly summoned to life parts of him that should not have anything to do with Charlotte.

  He could tell she felt it too, and he sat there immobile for a moment, unsure of what to do with all of these new sensations. Then, unbidden, he lifted his hand and ran it down her back, feeling her spine below her black dress.

  Philip knew everything about her so well, and yet he had never been so close to feel her curves in such a way.

  She slowly lifted her head from where it rested against his chest, tilting her face up to look at him. He searched her green eyes, finding within them question, concern, and… longing. For him. He was shocked not only by the discovery but his own reaction to it. This was Charlotte. He had always known her to be attractive, but she had always just been… Charlotte. His best friend. The woman who knew him better than any. But suddenly a rush of emotion so much stronger took over him and he was so stunned by it he was immobile for a few seconds.

  He didn’t seem to have any control over what happened next. One moment they were staring at one another in shock. The next his lips were on hers. A jolt of surprise raced through him from where they met. She was so plush, so soft, yet so… welcoming. Accepting.

  Their kiss was soft, tentative, both of them holding a slight bit of hesitation as they explored one another and this surprising turn of events. Then Philip began to push things a bit further, and she answered more boldly herself.

  Philip had kissed women before, of course, during the odd stolen moment with a maid in the corner or with one of the girls from the village.

  But this was so much different from any of those women, or any of those moments. This was Charlotte. His childhood companion. His confidant. His best friend.

  He had always told himself that she was like a sister.

  But at the moment, his feelings for her were as far removed from those for a sister as could possibly be.

  How could he have missed this? This woman, who had been his best friend for so long, was suddenly so much more. All these years, she had been there, a perfect match for him in every other way.

  It seemed like in this way, they fit one another just as well.

  Philip ran his hand through her curls, causing them all to fa
ll down around her head as pins littered the floor around them. She lifted her hands to his face, turning in his arms so that her chest was against his and they were fully exploring one another and all they had to offer each other.

  She tasted so good. So sweet, like the ample sugar she placed into her tea every morning. He groaned into her mouth, and she sank even closer to him. Her complete trust in him, her surrender to him, fueled him further, and his tongue teased the seam of her lips until she realized what he was seeking and she opened her mouth to him.

  And oh, she was glorious when she accepted him in, their tongues dueling one another in a tangle of promise of what more could be between them if they were to ever take this a step further.

  A step that Philip had never imagined before, but now that the suggestion was there… it was fortunate that Charlotte had maintained some aspect of observation, or he had no idea how far they would have gone within the long gallery of Hartland Abby.

  She lifted her head, and he felt bereft at the sudden loneliness.

  “Charlotte?” he said, her name on his lips part-supplication and part-question.

  But instead of saying anything, she hastily scrambled back off his lap, piling her mass of black curls on her head as best she could before forcing her mobcap back down upon it, and he inwardly cursed the piece of headwear that now hid such beauty from him.

  “Someone’s coming,” she hissed, and Philip stood, rearranging himself within his trousers before he, too, finally heard the footsteps reaching the top of the north stairwell and then echoing down the small corridor to the long gallery. His heart beat fast over all that had just changed in a matter of moments. When he looked at her, he didn’t see the Charlotte he had always known, but someone who was an entirely new revelation.

  “Charlotte?”

  Delilah – Mrs. Miller, now, Philip reminded himself – appeared in the doorway. “Oh, Philip, you are here too.”

  A hint of knowing lit her eyes, but Philip blessed her for not saying anything or reproaching the two of them for being alone at the top of the manor.

  “You must come down for a meeting below stairs,” she said to both of them, and Charlotte and Philip exchanged a look of surprise. They typically only met as an entire staff if there was an extraordinary event taking place, or if visitors were going to be attending and additional tasks were required.

  “For what?” Charlotte asked, but Mrs. Miller shook her head.

  “You will find out soon enough. Come quickly now. Both of you. You can finish the floor later.”

  With that, she turned and began to walk away, clearly intent that they both follow her.

  “Charlotte,” Philip crossed over to her, reaching for her hands. “That was—”

  “We’ll speak of it later,” she said, her cheeks a bright crimson, and he could tell she had no idea exactly what to say to him at the moment. Well, he could certainly help with that.

  “Very well,” he said, but then tugged one hand toward him, needing to say something but unsure how to put everything he was feeling into words. “But Charlotte… that was extraordinary.”

  He held out his hand, and she took it, following him out the door.

  Chapter 6

  The servant’s dining hall was abuzz with chatter when Charlotte and Philip entered. Charlotte realized that her hand was still tucked into Philip’s, as she had left her bucket and rags upstairs with the expectation that she would return following whatever this gathering was. It was hard to concentrate on anything but Philip, and all that had just occurred in the attic.

  He had kissed her, and it was more wonderful that anything Charlotte could ever have expected. A couple of boys in the village had stolen a kiss here and there, but they were nothing that came even close to how Philip had kissed her – and how she had kissed him in return. What did that make her, that she would respond to him as she did?

  And this was Philip – who she had known her entire life, who was as close to her as any other person would ever be. Had it meant as much to him as it did to her? She needed to know with an intensity that was difficult to describe, but she wasn’t entirely sure how to ask without possibly looking the fool.

  She sighed, and Philip looked over at her with a knowing smile, apparently guessing what had her preoccupied.

  Belatedly, she focused on Reeves standing at the front of the room, looking more serious than usual, which Charlotte wouldn’t have thought was at all possible.

  “Good afternoon,” he said gravely, and now the look Charlotte shared with Philip was one of concern. “I apologize for taking you all away from your duties.”

  Duties or… otherwise.

  “An urgent matter has come to our attention. Key pieces of the family’s silverware, china, and sculptures have gone missing. At first, we had hoped that it was a simple matter of items being misplaced. However, we are now concerned that it is more serious than that and we, unfortunately, have a thief in the household.”

  “A thief?” Charlotte could hardly believe it. “Not here. Not at Hartland. No one would do such a thing.”

  She looked around the room at the rest of them – many of whom had been like family to her for much of her life. It was obviously none of them. There was but one explanation. She tried not to allow her gaze to linger on Lily, but she had felt that something was off about the woman from the start. Charlotte had initially suspected she had been trying to win Philip away from her, but perhaps there was more to it.

  Lily must have felt her stare, for she turned to Charlotte, but Charlotte averted her gaze before they could make eye contact.

  “Mrs. Miller and I will be searching the quarters of each member of the staff while you remain here in the room. We are sorry to have to do this, but we see no other way.”

  Delilah looked similarly disturbed by the task, but she shrugged helplessly and followed Reeves out of the room.

  Charlotte turned to Philip, who looked as perturbed as she felt.

  “This isn’t right,” he muttered, shaking his head, his usual easygoing countenance troubled. “None of us would ever do such a thing. But Charlotte, there’s something off about Stuart. It has to be him.”

  “I was thinking the same about Lily,” she said in a low voice, so that no one else could hear. “It’s not a coincidence that this is occurring so soon after they joined the household, don’t you think?”

  He placed a hand on her back in reassurance. “Whichever one it is, I’m sure Reeves and Delilah will find something,” he said. “Then everything will be back to the way it was.”

  Charlotte nodded, though worry remained.

  The room was blanketed in silence while Reeves and Delilah were gone, and Charlotte wondered how long this would take and how they would determine who was at fault. Many of them shared quarters, and it wasn’t as though they had many belongings or places to hide anything.

  When the door finally opened, the air was so tense that Charlotte nearly jumped. Reeves and Delilah looked more disturbed than ever when they entered.

  “Thank you all for waiting patiently,” Reeves said. “You may now return to your work. Be sure to be quick about it, as this interruption does not change all that we must accomplish in a day.”

  “They must not have found anything,” Charlotte murmured, and Philip nodded as he began to lead her out the room.

  “Charlotte,” Reeves said in a low voice as she was about to walk through the door. “Would you remain for a moment?”

  “Why?” Philip demanded, but Reeves shook his head.

  “I must speak with Charlotte alone.”

  “But—”

  “It’s fine, Philip,” Charlotte said, placing a hand on his arm. “It will be all right.”

  He looked torn, but finally nodded, walking through the door, although Charlotte appreciated that it seemed he wouldn’t be going far.

  “What is it?” she asked when she was left alone with Reeves and Delilah, who looked as though she was about to cry.

  Reeves pulled
a candlestick and spoons from behind his back. “We found these under your mattress,” he said gravelly. “Can you explain how they got there?”

  Charlotte could only stare at him in horror. He wasn’t actually suggesting she had anything to do with this – was he?

  “I certainly did not place them there,” she finally managed. “I’ve seen them, of course, as I’ve cleaned them many times over, but…”

  She was at a loss for words.

  “Mrs. Miller, who was the last to clean the silverware?” Reeves asked.

  “Charlotte,” Delilah said, her voice just above a whisper.

  “So she would have had ample opportunity to take them?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  Reeves sighed. “I am sorry, Charlotte, but we must go speak to the duke.”

  “To the duke?” Charlotte asked, panic gripping her as she dug in her heels. “Please, Reeves, there must be some mistake, or someone has set me up. Lily Draper—”

  “Has spoken to me about the fact that you resent her,” Reeves said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to believe this, Charlotte, for you are family to me, but—”

  “Then don’t!” Charlotte exclaimed in a burst of emotion that she knew would not be welcomed but that she could no longer help. “I would never do such a thing, Reeves,” she said, blinking back tears. “I love this family. You know that.”

  He nodded, not saying anything more, and Charlotte sensed that he believed her but was at a loss to know what else to do.

  “I have done as the duke bid and will now have to present the information to him,” he said with a sigh. “Come.”

  Charlotte felt as though she was outside of her body, watching herself walk from the room, following Reeves. Philip was waiting outside the door, his expression one of anger.

  “I say, Reeves, this is ridiculous,” he said as he followed them out the door and up the stairs to the duke’s study. “Charlotte would never do such a thing. You know this as well as I do. As the duke does. Why—”