Seduced at Sunset (Love at Pembroke Palace Book 6)

by Julianne MacLean

  His heart pounded in his chest. For a long moment, he refrained from looking at her, though he could feel her eyes on his profile.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked, looking the other way so as not to arouse his desires any further. At least not yet.

  “Should I be?” Her voice was both innocent and seductive. It sent another surge of lust to his loins.

  At last, he turned to meet her gaze. “Probably.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we are alone, Lady Charlotte, and you must know what sorts of things I am thinking about.”

  “And what sorts of things are those, Mr. Torrington?” she asked, as if she had rehearsed the question a thousand times and wanted to hear him answer it emphatically—even though she already knew what his reply would be. The flirtatious flash of light in her eyes gave her away, and Drake found himself more deeply aroused than before.

  He leaned closer to touch his lips to hers, but hesitated just before their lips met, for he needed to know that he had her consent. That he was not mistaken. That she wanted this, too.

  He felt the heat of her sweet breath on his mouth. Then she lifted her face so the morning sun reflected in her clear eyes. It was enough to push him over the cliff edge of desire, and when he finally kissed her, his body shuddered with yearning, for her mouth was warm, open, and eager.

  It had not been such a long time since he’d kissed a woman, but something about this encounter had been unique from the beginning. He felt like an untried schoolboy, desperate for a taste of a real flesh-and-blood woman with soft skin and warm hands. He was completely enraptured.

  The coach continued to bump along the narrow road and without ever breaking the kiss, Lady Charlotte pulled off her gloves and laid her hands upon Drake’s cheeks. She shifted her body on the seat to face him, and he, too, shifted to gain better access to her delicious mouth.

  He slid a hand over her hip and under her sweet backside to lift her legs across his lap. She yielded beautifully to the new position. Before long, she was sighing with delight and clutching at his shoulders, but he wanted her on her back, and realized with a sudden pang of consciousness that this kiss had spun out of control very quickly. He drew his mouth away from hers, while a hot shiver of loss rippled down his spine.

  “Please don’t stop,” she breathlessly said. “We don’t have to yet. We still have some time.”

  They were a fair distance from Mayfair, and though he wanted to maintain control, her passionate plea bombarded his senses. He gave in without a fight.

  As if to make up for lost time, Lady Charlotte’s hands roamed quickly, searched over his shoulders, chest, arms, and hips, then slid back up to his hair. He wondered if he should stop this now, or he might soon be making love to Lady Charlotte right here in the coach—though perhaps that was what she wanted.

  Was it what he wanted? He certainly didn’t want to be rushed if it came to that.

  “Stop,” he said, bringing the kiss to a rather sloppy finish and holding her away at arm’s length. “Not here.” He wanted to do this properly and do it well. “Meet me tonight.”

  She blinked up at him as if in a foggy haze, fighting to catch her breath. “Where?”

  He considered it for a moment, pleased, of course that there was no argument, but at a loss as to how to answer the question. He didn’t want to take her to the opera or invite her to dinner, and he suspected she didn’t want those things either. She wanted him as a lover—in private—as he wanted her. They’d already pushed beyond the boundaries of any sort of polite courtship just now. They wanted each other’s bodies. That was obvious, and it had been obvious from the start. On top of all that, this was guaranteed to be a brief affair, for he was in London for a limited time and she knew it.

  “At the Harper Hotel,” he said. “There is an entrance at the rear of the building where you can enter discreetly. No one will see you. I will have the room key, and I will be there just inside the door to meet you.” When she gave no reply, he drew back slightly. “Have I presumed too much, Lady Charlotte?”

  She shook her head. “No, but please allow me to explain that I have never done anything like this before. I have never in my life taken a casual lover.”

  He inhaled deeply with relief. Casual lover. There they were…the words on her lips, spoken in plain terms. It was what they would be to each other. It represented consent, intention. A promise of temporary pleasure.

  Then he pondered her declaration, and the underlying message he could glean from it. She claimed she had never taken a casual lover, but she was unmarried. She was not a twenty-year-old debutante. Was she a virgin?

  He couldn’t possibly ask the question. He’d already taken enough liberties this morning, which left him curious and intrigued.

  Was he to be her first? Or was there some other story?

  The coach turned onto the main road. Drake forced himself to sit back and allow Lady Charlotte a few moments to collect herself before they reached Mayfair, for it had been an unexpectedly heated ride from the jetty.

  “I will accept your invitation,” she said as she tucked a few loose strands of hair up under her hat. “What time?”

  “Can you be there at midnight?” he asked.

  “I can do anything I want,” she replied with a wicked grin that made him want to leap across this seat and make love to her right then and there.

  “And is this truly what you want?” he asked.

  The coach pulled to a halt in front of Pembroke House.

  “Oh, yes,” she replied, leaning close and touching her lips lightly to his. They were soft and smiling, and he smiled in return as she drew away and slid alluringly toward the coach door.

  “What have you done to me, Mr. Torrington?” she playfully asked as he reached past her to flick the door latch and push it open.

  “Nothing yet,” he said. “But summer has only just begun.”

  “And I have the utmost confidence that we will make the most of it.”

  With that, she slipped out of his coach, leaving him positively ravenous with anticipation for their forthcoming encounter.

  Chapter 5

  Charlotte knew her cheeks were flushed when she walked into the house and was greeted by the butler. She hoped he would consider her high color a consequence of the cool and dewy morning air, for it was not yet nine o’clock.

  She handed over her hat and gloves and proceeded upstairs to the breakfast room for eggs and coffee, which she sorely needed to snap herself back to reality after the dreamlike seduction in Mr. Torrington’s coach. It had been everything she had wanted—and more.

  She could barely fathom all that she had learned about him on the river, and all that he had revealed, much less what had occurred between them on the return trip. Charlotte had been wildly attracted to him from the first moment he swept her into his arms after the robbery and carried her into his house. Watching him row the boat at high speed against the current of the river had only added heat to the flame, and the passionate kiss in the coach had sealed her fate.

  Surely it would be impossible to resist a full-scale love affair with him, and to her utter delight, he had expressed a similar desire. She had recognized his desire for he had been wonderfully aggressive, breathing heavily, and touching her hungrily with those strong, sure hands.

  Heaven help her, what should she expect when she met him at the hotel? If she didn’t lose her courage before then and change her mind completely.

  Charlotte reached the top of the stairs and breathed in the scent of honey-smoked ham and coffee. After her thrilling boat ride on the river, she was famished.

  “Good morning,” her mother said as Charlotte entered and poured herself a cup of coffee.

  Her mother, Adelaide, had no notion that Charlotte had ventured out at six o’clock to meet a potential lover, so Charlotte served up a plate of eggs and ham, and sat
down as if nothing were amiss.

  “What are your plans for the day?” Adelaide asked as she set the newspaper down on the white tablecloth.

  “Nothing.”

  “Didn’t you mention that we might take a walk in the park? I would like to do something that does not involve crowds or shopping.”

  Charlotte set down her coffee cup. “Oh yes. Although Hyde Park is not the best place to go if you wish to avoid a crowd on a sunny afternoon.”

  “I will tolerate the crowds in exchange for green grass, birds, and trees,” Adelaide replied. “Two o’clock, did you not say?”

  Indeed, Charlotte had been quite adamant about that particular time of the day, for she had hoped to entice Dr. Thomas to join them. But since their discussion in his office the day before, the urgency to take her mother to the park had diminished with the news that Dr. Thomas was involved with another woman now.

  “What about a museum or art gallery this afternoon?” Charlotte suggested. “I daresay it looks like rain.”

  The sky was a bright shade of blue, however, and the birds were singing.

  “Don’t be silly,” Adelaide said. “It is a glorious day and I want to walk in the park and twirl our parasols. You look very fetching in your lavender walking gown, darling. Why not wear that one?”

  Charlotte realized that her mother had come to London with high hopes that her daughter might at last meet a handsome gentleman worthy of stealing her heart. So…Adelaide was playing matchmaker, too, though apparently, she had not yet identified an appropriate suitor.

  Charlotte considered mentioning that she had already selected a handsome man to enjoy for the summer. He was the famous retired boxer they called The Iron Fist, and it was going to be a purely sexual affair.

  Swallowing uneasily, she set down her fork. “A walk in the park sounds delightful,” she said, and finished her coffee without saying another word.

  Contrary to Charlotte’s prediction about an unexpected rainfall, the weather remained fine that afternoon. She and Adelaide opened their parasols and climbed into the barouche, which first took them for a drive through Piccadilly, then circled around to drop them off at the Marble Arch entrance to Hyde Park. It was just past two when they stepped out of the vehicle.

  “We shall walk for a full hour,” Adelaide said to the footman.

  “Very good, Your Grace,” he replied as he reached to raise the step. The two ladies turned and entered the park.

  “It will do me good to wander about and see people again,” Adelaide said to Charlotte, referring of course to the past two years she had spent in mourning. She did not come to London at all last Season, preferring instead to remain in the country and settle into her new occupancy at the dower house.

  “I hope you have not been lonely,” Charlotte said, linking her arm through her mother’s. “I often look out the window and wonder what you are doing at any given moment. It’s strange not having you at the palace. I have missed you.”

  “I have missed you, too,” Adelaide replied, “but it is best for me to reside at the dower house, so that the servants will look to Rebecca for instructions and not come to me. It was important that she take the reins as the new duchess.”

  “You are right of course. And if you were still living at the palace, they would look to you for the final word on everything, for they love and respect you greatly.”

  “Thank you, darling. You are kind to say so.”

  “It is not kindness, it is the truth, and if you ever have any doubts about the running of the household, allow me to assure you that Rebecca is doing an excellent job of it. She had very large shoes to fill, of course, but the servants do respect her. And Lord knows, Devon is happy.”

  Adelaide smiled. “They have done well, to be sure, and have dutifully provided the dukedom with heirs.”

  That particular observation made Charlotte laugh, for ‘duty’ had nothing to do with it. The passion between Devon and his wife had not diminished in the slightest after twelve years of marriage and a nursery full of children. They were a shining example of perfect wedded bliss—as were her other three brothers—Vincent, Blake, and Garrett. It was a happy household, bursting at the seams with the children of the next generation. All was well at Pembroke, and for that Charlotte was grateful.

  “And what about you?” Adelaide asked, pulling Charlotte closer to walk side by side on the gravel path. “You are the only one of my beloved children who has not chosen to marry. I know how much pleasure you derive from your writing, but are you happy, darling? Are you ever lonely?”

  Charlotte felt a pang of discomfort, for she must be lonely indeed, to be driven to take a casual lover. But she couldn’t possibly tell her mother that. There were certain things one could not—and should not—say to a parent.

  “I am very happy,” she assured her mother, and that was no lie. “My writing is fulfilling. I feel blessed to have such a passion in my life. I know that I could never be bored, for there is always a pen and ink jar nearby. Or a book to engage my mind.”

  “You were always far too bright for your tutors,” Adelaide said with a laugh. “What a voracious reader you were, from a very young age.”

  “I love words,” Charlotte replied, “and good stories.”

  Thankfully her mother left it at that and did not press her further about loneliness or her spinsterhood.

  The path began a gradual incline, and Charlotte looked up to see a man walking toward them from the other direction. She recognized him instantly, and her heart swelled with happiness.

  Dr. Thomas! Her father had come after all—at the very hour she had suggested. Was it possible he had changed his mind?

  Quickly she glanced over her shoulder, fearing suddenly that he was here to meet his lady friend, but there was no one behind them.

  “Good afternoon!” Adelaide called out, letting go of Charlotte’s arm and increasing her pace along the path. She walked ahead to meet him. “What a pleasure to see you, William.”

  He took hold of her gloved hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace. How are you? It has been almost two years, has it not?”

  Charlotte caught up with them. Her father gave her that familiar look of affection, which always made her smile.

  “Yes, two years exactly,” Adelaide replied. She lowered her voice. “Those were difficult times, as you well know.”

  She was speaking of the duke’s lingering illness and demise and how helpful Dr. Thomas had been through it all.

  Charlotte noticed they had not yet let go of each other’s hands.

  “Have you been well?” he asked.

  “Very well, thank you,” Adelaide replied. “I have moved into the dower house and the garden there has provided me with many hours of happy distraction. You should see my roses, William.”

  With a charming smile, he said, “I have no doubt they are exquisite, for you always had a wonderful appreciation for flowers, and such a gift with color.”

  “As did Theodore,” Adelaide replied, out of respect for her late husband.

  “Indeed.” Dr. Thomas turned to Charlotte. “And how are you on this fine day, my dear? Looking lovely as always.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Have you ladies just begun your walk?”

  “Yes,” Adelaide said. “We arrived only a few minutes ago. Will you join us, William? I would like to hear about your work since we last spoke. Garrett often tells me about your lectures at the university. I am so pleased that you and he have been able to spend so much time together. You have become a tremendous influence in his life. I hope you appreciate how much it means to me.”

  “It means a great to me as well,” he replied as he offered his arm and turned to escort Adelaide down the path in the direction from where he had come.

  Charlotte felt suddenly invisible and wondered uneasi
ly if she should have told her mother about Dr. Thomas’s involvement with another woman. But would that spoil her mother’s hopes, if in fact she had any? Perhaps he would tell her of his lady friend today.

  Falling back a few steps, Charlotte left them alone to walk together and catch up on old times. As she watched her mother’s parasol twirl before her eyes, she felt a happy little thrill move through her. It had been a most eventful day, full of possibilities. It was difficult to believe there was more yet to come.

  Chapter 6

  Charlotte waited for her mother to retire for the night before she snuck out. It was now almost midnight and she was entering the hotel through the back door in accordance with Mr. Torrington’s instructions.

  Her belly turned over with a strange mixture of apprehension and eagerness, for she had not been able to erase their morning kiss from her mind. All day long she had been reeling with frustrated desires, dreaming about the moment when she would be back in Mr. Torrington’s arms.

  Charlotte entered the hotel, closed the door behind her, and found herself in a pitch-dark entryway. Unable to see her own hand in front of her face, she backed up against the wall and stood very still. Perhaps this had been a mistake. Could she really trust a man she had only just met? What if he had not even come?

  Then the floor creaked, a shadow moved in front of her, and she felt the light brush of his lips across her cheek.

  “I wasn’t sure if you would come,” he said in that raunchy voice that singed her mind with suggestive images of what might happen over the next few minutes.

  “I couldn’t possibly stay away,” she replied. “You have been in my thoughts since we parted.”

  “The waiting was pure hell,” he said just before his lips found hers in the darkness.

  Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck and met his kiss with abandon. His body was snug up against hers while his hand slid down over her hip. He laid a trail of kisses down the side of her neck and whispered, “I have a room for us. Will you join me there now?”