Belong To Me (book 4) (The Fielding Brothers Saga)

by Marie Higgins

  Ian pulled back and gave her a strange look. “What was that about? Do you find the way I kiss comical?”

  She smiled. “No, it wasn’t that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I just couldn’t help it. I’m so happy,” she cried, feeling as though she was wrapped in a silken cocoon of euphoria.

  His hands stroked her face and neck. “What makes you so certain I’m the man for you, my darling?”

  “Because I’ve realized just how much I love you.”

  “You...love me?” His voice broke.

  “Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever loved you as much as I do right now.”

  * * * *

  The day of the party quickly came upon Charlotte, and she felt exhilarated, yet frightened. Could she pull it off? Would Jacqueline be able to put the drug into the men’s drinks before anything happened? Would Ian find the jewels, which would release him from these false crimes?

  Ian appeared much more in control. He helped her look through her closest to find the outfit she’d wear. After sorting through two closets, he pulled out a dress, and then shook his head, chuckling.

  “As much as I detest having the commissioner and Ewan ogle you, I think this is the only dress that will pass for your disguise.”

  When she noticed it was the dress she’d bought on impulse the day after the masquerade ball, she groaned. “I suppose if it’s the only dress that will pass.”

  “Unfortunately, it is.” He held up the garment. “Will you allow me to assist you?”

  She grinned and allowed him to assist. After the gown was pulled over her head and fastened, he dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, regret stabbed at her. Anymore, she’d rather be in his arms than doing anything else.

  He took her hand and led her into his room to the small corner where he kept his disguises. He opened a large case full of wigs and pulled out a long black one. The tresses were pitch as night with long tendrils of curls.

  “Have a seat, my love.” He pointed to the chair.

  She did, and once she was seated, he began his work, fitting the wig over her head until all of her hair had disappeared. He took a comb and fluffed up the black hair, making it wave all over her head and down her shoulders, seductively. He deftly attached a pair of diamond-studded combs at each side. She tilted her head toward the mirror, watching the stones catch the light.

  He then took out some colored powders and began painting her eyes, cheeks, and lips. When he turned her toward the mirror, she couldn’t believe the difference. She was the prettiest harlot she’d ever seen.

  “They’re never going to believe this is me,” she exclaimed.

  “That’s the whole idea.”

  “I look too high priced to be seen with the likes of those who will be at the party,” she teased.

  Ian’s laughter filled the room. “Oh, my darling, you’re going to be just fine. Just remember, though, I don’t want you acting the part. You can talk seductive, but do not let any of those men touch,” he warned. “I won’t allow it.”

  She studied him in the mirror with a scowl. “You’re the only man I want touching me.” She leaned back and looked at her reflection pensively. A grin crept onto her face as she realized she’d finally banished Adam from her mind and heart. She was free to give her heart and soul to Ian now, for her heart did indeed belong to him.

  He moved behind her and pulled her up against his body. “I’m glad you feel the way I do.”

  Laughing, she pulled away. “Come, let’s get you ready now.”

  She moved to his make-up case and rummaged through the disguises. “Who are you going as today?”

  “I don’t know. Help me decide.”

  She couldn’t believe the selection of facial hair and wigs. She picked up a gray wig and placed it on his head. “How about the one you wore when you were the old man who rescued me three years ago?” she suggested.

  He nodded. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  “How could I forget? That’s when I realized I wanted to be with a man like you…forever.” Their eyes locked and a sigh escaped her lips. She picked up another wig, curly and blond. “Oh, and this was what you wore when you were the haggardly old woman.” She laughed. “Now that’s an image I’ll never forget.” He laughed with her. She picked up another wig, grayer than the first. “Do you want to be an old man today?”

  He chuckled. “I’m going to have to be. Any younger man who is a footman to someone as beautiful as you is going to have to be immune to your body, and I’m definitely not that.”

  She picked up some matching sideburns and held them to the sides of his face. “Yes, I think these will work just fine. So, how do you put these things on?”

  “See this jar? It has a sticky substance that will help keep the hair to my face.” He took a small spatula and dipped it into the jelly. With great patience, he placed the film on his skin where the sideburns would go before carefully putting the facial hair in place.

  She pulled her attention away from him and back to his crate of disguises, wondering what else he should wear. Her fingers brushed against a black mustache that looked more used than the others, so she picked it up. Although the mustache wasn’t the same shade as his wig and sideburns, she turned and stuck it over the top of his upper lip for fun. “Here, put this one on.” She chuckled.

  After a few moments at looking at his mismatched reflection through the mirror, he joined in her laughter. She smiled at him as she admired his tempting mouth. Suddenly, she received the strangest feeling, almost as if she had seen this particular mustache before. In her mind, a picture formed of Adam. His mustache was like this one. In fact, Ian’s lips were…

  With shaky hands, she turned quickly and put the mustache back in the crate. Numbness spread through her body the longer Adam’s image remained branded in her mind. It wasn’t his face that she thought about, but the lips. She closed her eyes and tried to fight away the feelings of deceit consuming her very soul.

  It couldn’t be! But Ian was the master of all disguises. When he’d been the old man who saved her from kidnappers, the only thing that gave away his character was his lean fingers. And Adam always wore gloves…to hide his hands. Why? Because they were scarred? And even when Ian had played the part of the old haggardly woman, his eyes were the only thing that looked familiar. But what about Lord Adam Thatcher? She thought there was a resemblance in their eyes, but Adam had explained that it was because they were related. Now she doubted Adam’s story. She doubted Ian’s story, too. Who could she believe? There was only one way to tell.

  Fighting for control over her twisting emotions, she turned back toward Ian and watched him put on the gray mustache. The more she stared at his lips, the more unease washed over her. Those lips were just like Adam’s. The realization struck her in the stomach like a fist, and she released a long sigh.

  “If you keep looking at my mouth the way you’re doing,” Ian said, bringing her out of her confusing thoughts, “I’m going to think you want to be kissed good and hard.”

  Her gaze flew to his eyes. “I do,” she blurted out.

  His eyes widened, but he drew her into his embrace and lowered his head. She pressed her mouth to his, moving her lips over his softly and seductively, which made him groan. He tried to turn the kiss wild, but she wouldn’t let him. She kept the kiss gentle just the way Adam had kissed her until Ian responded the same way. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know who was kissing her right now. Even the tender caress of his hands was Adam’s!

  Once she was satisfied, she pulled away, and looked into his eyes. Why hadn’t she caught on before now? But then, the question was, why did Ian have to play the part of Adam at all? Her eyes narrowed suspiciously on his ruggedly handsome face.

  Ian grinned. “What was that all about?” he asked as he stepped back to the mirror.

  “I just wanted to see how it felt when I kissed you wearing a mustache,” she said slowly, trying to rea
d his expression.

  He laughed. “And how did it feel, my love?”

  “It felt like Adam,” she said, unable to contain herself any longer.

  His head jerked around quickly, his eyes met hers then quickly diverted elsewhere. As she studied his reaction, her first thought was she’d been mistaken, but the way he glanced at everything but her, said it all.

  “So...do you go by Ian...or do you prefer to be called Adam?” she asked sarcastically.

  * * * *

  Coldness rushed through Ian’s body, and his heart sank. But at least the truth was out. He didn’t want to deny it, yet he didn’t want to lose her. Lying was not the answer this time.

  “Can I explain?” he asked in a voice filled with despair. Tears filled her eyes and he reached out to her. “Please, let me explain.”

  “No.” She slapped his hands away and turned and ran out of his room. He chased after her. Her tiny feet echoed his large steps behind her. He caught her beneath the flickering lamplight, his fingers gouged deeply into her arms as she struggled to get away.

  “Please, Charlotte! Let me explain,” he pleaded.

  “No,” she cried, yanking her arms out of his grasp.

  She wouldn’t look at him, and he feared she would never forgive him. He caught her again before she could turn to run, and pressed her body against his, pinning her arms to her sides. “Charlotte, you need to know the truth. I won’t let you leave until you’ve heard it all.”

  “You...you...lied to me!” She sobbed.

  His heart tore in pieces as he watched sorrow leak from her eyes. “I know, but I did it for a reason.”

  “No reason can be good enough for hurting the woman you proclaim to love!” She twisted in his arms to free herself of his tight embrace.

  He sighed heavily and loosened his hold. Thankfully, she didn’t turn and run this time. “I really wanted to tell you, but I had to know if you could love me,” he began quietly. “At first, I started the charade because you were bored and needed a good mystery to solve. Before you had walked back into my life, I began to write a novel. The notes you read in my office were those from my manuscript.”

  Her tear-stained eyes lifted and met his. He continued, “Then, problems with the commissioner arose and I needed somewhere to stay, and yet still be myself. When you met Adam and actually liked him, well, I knew I couldn’t tell you at that time because I so desperately had to know how you felt about me. It was important the servants thought of me as Adam. At that time, I didn’t trust anybody.”

  He reached up and wiped a streak of tears from her cheek. She withdrew, her eyes narrowing in anger.

  “You couldn’t even trust me?” She glared at him with burning, reproachful eyes.

  “As Adam,” he went on slowly, “I became your friend, but I couldn’t hold back my desire for you. That’s why Adam fell in love with you and tried to seduce you. Then I noticed you were more at ease with Adam than you were with me. Never in my wildest dreams did I think you’d desire a man like him, and when you did, I definitely couldn’t tell you the truth.”

  “Why did you think you couldn’t tell me?”

  “Because I feared when you discovered the truth, you might hate me.” He paused, searching her eyes and pleading with his own for her forgiveness and understanding. Then he asked, “Do you hate me for not telling you?”

  She lowered her gaze and his heart dropped. She did hate him, he could sense it, and the pain tore viciously at his gut. But he had to make her see...make her understand. He couldn’t lose her now, not after everything they’d been through together. It couldn’t end like this. He wouldn’t let it.

  “I don’t know how I feel right now,” she whispered with emotion. “I do know that because you’ve withheld the truth from me, you’ve hurt me all over again. You could have told me, Ian.”

  “Oh, Charlotte, my love.” He tightened his arms around her, but she pushed him away.

  “Please, don’t touch me,” she snapped. “You have to get ready for the party. I’ll be downstairs waiting.”

  She fled down the hallway, and he didn’t stop her this time. His whole world had shattered into a million pieces. He never wanted things to end like this. He was going to tell her after she confessed her love, but their lovemaking kept his mind sidetracked. It was too late, now. How could he make amends with her at this point in time? Well, no matter how difficult it seemed, he had to try. He must make her realize she loved him. He also needed to make her see she was an understanding and forgiving woman. It would take time. He, of course, would have to hold her and kiss her, making her see how she melted in his arms—and then everything would be all right.

  It just had to.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Charlotte sat in one corner of the coach and stared blankly out the window, slightly bouncing to the rhythm of the vehicle. Jacqueline sat beside her. Opposite them, Ian’s attention rested only on Charlotte, but she refused to look his way. He’d tried many times to apologize since this afternoon, but she informed him she needed time to think. His treachery had left a gaping hole in her heart, and she felt as if she’d been used—like she’d been the victim of a cruel joke.

  Now she understood why she had craved Adam’s touch as well as Ian’s. They were the same man. Yet, she’d suffered through guilt because of having these feelings. And to think if Ian had confessed the truth, she wouldn’t have suffered. The ride to Ewan Stout’s estate was almost unbearable, but Charlotte held her silence for the duration of the journey.

  The coach stopped in front of Ewan’s little two-level house, and many fancy carriages parked along the street. Ian climbed out first and helped the ladies down. Charlotte let Jacqueline go ahead of her, and when it was her turn, she hesitantly placed her hand in his. Shooting waves of pleasure filled her from the warmth of his skin, and she cursed the effect his caress had always created. After her feet touched the ground, she tried to slip her hand from his, but he held tight and turned her to face him. He waited until she grudgingly met his stare.

  “Please forgive me,” he whispered. “It’s killing me to see you this way. I love you.”

  It tore at her heart to see such painful emotion written on his face, but it made her that much angrier. She yanked her hand away and marched toward Jacqueline without giving him any kind of verbal response.

  Jacqueline and Ian huddled together near the coach as he quickly explained what he wanted her to do, how he wanted her to act, and especially what she should not say. Jacqueline kept casting glances at Charlotte, but she didn’t join the conversation. She wrapped herself tightly in her own self-pity.

  When Mr. Stout opened the door of the house, Charlotte put on a mask of cordiality and entered her new role, wondering why she continued this farce as she walked into the house with Jacqueline.

  If Ian had lied to her about Adam, maybe he had lied about the theft. But deep in her heart, she knew Ian had not committed the crime. Besides, the sooner they found the real thief, the sooner Charlotte could go back home and get far, far away from Adam and Ian.

  As she passed by a window, she saw Ian peeking in. Mostly, he watched her. She willed him to keep his mind on their objective. His presence, although hidden from the others, made her feel comforted.

  “Welcome ladies,” Ewan greeted Charlotte and Jacqueline warmly.

  Charlotte buried her feelings deep inside and returned Mr. Stout’s greeting as Jacqueline introduced her as Jennifer. Charlotte held herself strong and was determined to become Jennifer…in words only. She could not have the commissioner suspecting her true identity.

  * * * *

  “I can’t believe there’s nothing here,” Charlotte shouted in fury as she marched out of the last room, closing the door behind her. Jacqueline came running out to meet her in the hallway. After the men had fallen asleep, she and Jacqueline spent an hour looking in every room of Ewan’s house, but their search had turned up nothing. “It’s got to be somewhere!” Charlotte cried in frustration.
r />   “Charlotte, we’ve looked everywhere. Ewan’s going to be livid when he sees the place.”

  Charlotte chuckled nervously. “Let’s hope he merely thinks the party got out of hand.”

  “Do you think it’s possible you were wrong about Ewan?” asked Jacqueline in a small voice.

  Charlotte sighed. It was beginning to look that way, but she wasn’t willing to give up quite so soon. She’d never been a quitter and wasn’t about to be one now. Hopefully Ian was having better luck. Although she was still very angry with him, she sincerely wished he’d found what she and Jacqueline hadn’t.

  “I really do like Ewie,” Jacqueline continued in a hopeful tone.

  “If he didn’t steal the bracelet,” Charlotte said, more to herself than to her companion, “then where did he get it? It was definitely the bracelet stolen from Mrs. Pendleton’s house.”

  “Do you want me to just ask him?”

  “Not yet. Let’s wait and see what Ian finds.”

  “Let’s return downstairs and see how they are doing.”

  Charlotte shuddered with dread. “Do I have to? Seeing that filthy commissioner again is something I’d rather not see.”

  Jacqueline laughed. “Then I shall go down first.”

  Charlotte followed Jacqueline down the hallway. Charlotte sucked in a breath as she stepped into the room and bumped into Jacqueline, who had stopped. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a man’s voice overrode her thoughts. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Fright took on a whole new meaning.

  “Whot’s goin’ on ‘ere?” The voice boomed through the room.

  Charlotte’s first reaction was to turn and flee. Instead, she stepped up boldly beside Jacqueline. Although the man wasn’t fancy dressed, he wasn’t a miscreant either. His clothes were rugged and fit his large frame perfectly. Deep scars marred his ugly face, one by his left eye and two by his cheek and mouth. Even so, it was his expression that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Green eyes, dark as midnight, pierced the six feet that separated them. The gaze held a mixture of emotions, none of which were pleasant.