by Bree Wolf
“Retiring already?” he asked, dimples forming on the sides of his mouth as he smiled at her in such a way that the breath caught in her throat.
Taken aback, Charlotte swayed on her feet, her eyes fixed on his, before she took a step backward to maintain her balance. For a split second, she thought that his arms had moved forward, prepared to steady her, before he had thought better of it and they had dropped to his sides once more.
“I’m quite tired,” she mumbled, averting her gaze and dabbing a handkerchief at her burning eyes.
Instantly, the smile vanished from her husband’s face, and his eyes narrowed. Again, he lifted his hand as though wanting to raise her chin so as better to inspect her face. However, he thought better of it yet again. “Is something wrong?” he whispered instead.
Unable to meet his eyes, Charlotte could still feel them touch her face, following the line of her brows and the soft dip of her nose. They traced the tear that she hadn’t even been aware of before it spilled over and ran down her cheek, touching the corner of her mouth.
Swallowing, Charlotte lifted her head and met the deep, penetrating blue of his eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, feeling herself tremble as her body suddenly became aware of the minimal distance between them. She could feel his breath on her skin, and the warmth of his body warmed her chilled bones.
“I believe a kiss is in order,” Victoria’s delighted voice cut through the silence.
Confused, Charlotte turned to look at her and found her sister-in-law pointing at something above their heads.
Mistletoe!
The sudden realisation hit Charlotte before she had even lifted her head, and panic welled in her heart. Meeting her husband’s eyes, she felt her own breath quicken as she recognised the desire she saw there.
For a long moment, his gaze held hers before it travelled down to her lips and he drew in a deep breath.
Was this it? Charlotte wondered. Would he break his promise, ultimately blaming a silly tradition for his own lack of virtue?
Could she stop him? She wondered, remembering her sheer helplessness when Lord Northfield had cornered her in the library. Nothing she had done then had made a difference.
But it would now, wouldn’t it?
Indeed, it would. Whether her husband liked it or not, she could simply walk away or refuse his kiss, could she not?
As her insecurities bubbled under her skin, stealing her breath and clouding her mind, Charlotte found herself quite unexpectedly wondering what her husband’s kiss would feel like. Would it be hard and demanding? Forceful? With no regard for her?
Worrying her lower lip, Charlotte glanced up yet again, her hands clasped together to still their trembling.
With his head slightly bent toward hers, her husband looked down at her, his eyes studying her face. They slid over her quivering lips, down to the tense rigidness of her shoulders and farther on to the strained sinews standing out white in her clasped hands.
“What are you waiting for?” Victoria called, a touch of excitement in her voice.
Chapter Twenty-Three – Moment of Truth
At his sister’s question, Sebastian swallowed.
Indeed, what was he waiting for? If he was honest with himself−and he at least ought to be honest with himself−he had to admit that the thought of kissing his wife appealed to him greatly. Not until this moment when they stood before one another and the possibility of a kiss hung in the air had he realised how much he longed to have a physical relationship with his wife.
And yet, one look into her warm, hazel eyes told him that this was neither the time nor the place.
After all, even a blind man would have noticed the terror that held her rigid. Tense to the point of breaking, she stood before him, eyes slightly widened, unable to meet his, and yet, unable to look away as though he would pounce the second she averted her gaze.
Seeing her fear and understanding her need for reassurance, Sebastian sought her eyes and a gentle smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
For a moment, she seemed to freeze before she exhaled slowly, relief shining in her beautiful eyes.
Then he lifted his head and met his mother’s and sister’s expectant gazes. “I’m afraid I cannot,” he said, and his wife beside him tensed even more. Did she truly fear he would reveal the nature of their agreement to his family?
“Why ever not?” his mother asked, her eyes slightly narrowed as she glanced from him to his wife. “Is something wrong?”
Wishing to put his wife at ease as well as resolve all doubt that something was indeed wrong, Sebastian chuckled, his chest swelling with unexpected pride as he finally found himself able to protect someone he cared for deeply. Even if this was merely a small matter. “Well, if you insist on knowing,” he laughed, a touch of mischief in his voice, “the lady and I made a wager.”
While his wife looked up at him with a frown on her face, his family seemed eager to demand details. Sebastian, however, quickly interfered, hoping to silence them. “I can see that you’re most impatient to know more. However, all I am at liberty to reveal at present is that I lost and am, therefore, in no position to steal a kiss.” He glanced at his wife, a confidential smile on his face. “It is the lady’s prerogative, and as far as I can tell she is determined to see me suffer.”
His heart skipped a beat as a soft smile flashed over his wife’s face and she dropped her gaze, a touch of red stealing into her cheeks. Never had they shared such an intimate moment, conversing without words, understanding the other’s thoughts without the need to express them.
For all the times when Sebastian had felt at a loss, knowing that there was something hiding in her past that stood between them like a gigantic wall, keeping them apart, he now cherished this moment even more as they stood side by side, and he realised that he wanted more.
He wanted to be her confidant. He wanted her trust. He wanted her to confide in him. He wanted to know, and he wanted her to want him to know.
How he would go about to make this happen Sebastian didn’t know. However, this small moment allowed him to believe that it was possible … if he were patient, if he were considerate above all else.
And he fully intended to be, no matter what it would cost him.
Although disappointed, his mother and sister ultimately gave up when he continued to refuse them the answers they sought.
Seeing the strain on his wife’s face, he offered her his arm. “Allow me to escort you upstairs?”
Again, she hesitated as though first needing to gather her courage before she could bear his touch. The thought pained him greatly, and yet, he thought he could understand. For all he didn’t know about her, her behaviour spoke volumes about the atrocities of her past.
“Thank you,” she finally whispered, hesitantly sliding her hand through the crook of his arm.
Silence fell over them as they slowly made their way up the large staircase and then turned down the corridor toward their bedchambers. Acutely aware of the slight tremble that ran through her body, Sebastian did his best to maintain his distance. However, when he leaned forward to open the door to her room, his body touched hers in a more intimate way, and she immediately shrank back, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly assured her, cursing himself for his thoughtlessness. “I didn’t mean to … I merely meant to open the door for you.” Gesturing to the door at her back, he smiled at her apologetically.
Understanding as well as a touch of embarrassment came to her face, and she nodded. “I’m sorry as well.” She swallowed, then met his eyes. “Thank you for what you did, for keeping your word.”
“Did you doubt that I would?” he couldn’t help but ask, wondering if he truly wanted to know.
Again, she took a deep breath, and for a moment, her eyes became distant. “No, I did not,” she mumbled as though realising it just then. “However, there’s a part of me that … lives in constant fear. It’s like a reflex. I cannot help it. It always resurfaces at its own will, overpo
wering everything I think I know.”
Surprised at her willingness to share such personal thoughts with him, Sebastian swallowed. “Who hurt you?” The moment the question left his lips, Sebastian knew it to be a mistake, and yet, he had been unable to control himself.
For a moment, her eyes widened in shock before she stepped back and shook her head, a new tremble seizing her body as she sought to retreat from the memories his question had undoubtedly conjured. “This is … It doesn’t matter.” Gritting her teeth, she raised her chin and met his eyes. “I’m not yours to protect, remember?” She swallowed, and he thought to see a hint of regret on her face. “Ours is a marriage of convenience. Take care of Victoria.”
Swallowing, Sebastian nodded, knowing that he could not force the matter. One day, she would tell him, but he had to be patient. Very patient. And yet, he needed her to know that he would not walk away.
Holding her gaze, he took a careful step toward her, doing his utmost not to appear threatening in any way. “Can I not protect you both?” he asked, savouring the moment as her eyes looked deep into his and her breathing hitched ever so slightly as though temptation had just seized her unexpectedly.
Maybe all was not lost after all.
“Good night,” she whispered, then forced her eyes away and retreated to her chamber, closing the door behind her.
“Good night,” Sebastian said to the empty corridor, vowing to find a way to protect them both.
Chapter Twenty-Four – A Heart’s Desire
Despite a certain awkwardness whenever she would come across her husband, Charlotte had to admit that she enjoyed the following few weeks they spent at Hartridge Hall. While the earl had to keep to his bed, the rest of his family rejoiced in being together under the same roof once more. Although Charlotte could not be certain, she suspected that, at least for the moment, they had all wordlessly agreed to pretend that things had never changed, that Victoria had never gotten married and moved away.
The days were filled with laughter and music, with excursions into the gardens despite the icy weather with games of chess and good books read in front of the fire. Occasionally, one of them would be touched by a bit of melancholy, but usually it was quickly chased away by a firm determination to enjoy what little time they had together.
Then the new Season came, and with it a return to London … and reality.
Since the earl was still too sick to be moved and cared very little for the company of his kin, the remainder of his family soon found itself bundled-up warmly in a carriage on their way back to Town.
“I’m certain this Season will be just lovely,” the countess exclaimed with forced joviality, eyes gazing out the window as London came in sight. “Just lovely.”
Glancing around the carriage, Charlotte noticed that comparatively few words were spoken as each sat lost in their own thoughts. As much as they had tried to will away reality, it had finally caught up with them. Charlotte couldn’t help but wonder what waited her in Town.
Terrified by the thought of destitution, Charlotte had never once stopped to contemplate what it would mean for her to marry a man of the ton. Naturally, such a decision led her back to the upper society who believed her dead. The thought of stumbling upon her parents in some ballroom choked the air from her lungs, and her eyes misted with unshed tears.
“I always loved the beginning of the Season,” Victoria mumbled, eyes fixed on her hands folded in her lap. “Now, it is very different.” She sighed and glanced at her family. “Choosing new gowns and accessories for ball after ball as the excitement built with each dance, it was a truly wonderful time. Carefree and full of promise.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “I had such hopes. Now, that is all gone.”
“Oh, my dear,” her mother exclaimed, pulling her into her arms. “You can still dance and mingle and enjoy yourself. Nothing can ever take that away. We are a family, and we will always be here for you, for the laughter as well as the tears.”
As mother and daughter clung to each other, Charlotte glanced at her husband, who sat beside her with a stony face, guilt edged into the strong line of his jaw. “Victoria will stay with us, won’t she?” Charlotte asked, knowing the answer full well but feeling the need to speak.
Her husband drew in a long breath. “I’m afraid not.”
“Do you have fond memories of London?”
Again, he sighed before he glanced at her, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Like Victoria said, London used to be a wonderful place. Only now, all that is in the past, and everything that once held a joyous memory now only serves to remind us of what will never be again, of what we lost.” He cleared his throat, his brows drawn down in anger. “Of what my father stole from us.”
For a long moment, silence returned to the carriage before her husband once more cleared his throat, the look on his face apologetic. “I’m sorry to have spoken so,” he said, casting a gentle smile in her direction. “I cannot deny that this is a hard time for all of us, but maybe it is unwise to dwell only on the darker side of life.” He took a deep breath, willing the clouds away. “What about you? Do you have any fond memories of London?”
Understanding exactly how the family felt, Charlotte, too, felt drawn to the pain and misery she now associated with this city. However, as their overwhelming weight began to settle on her shoulders once again, she lifted her head and took a deep breath, forcing her thoughts in a different direction. “We would always cross Westminster Bridge on our way into London,” she began. “When I was little, my mother would hand me a coin, and I would hurl it as far as I could toward the Thames.” To her surprise, a slight chuckle rose from her throat at the memory. “If it hit the water, my mother would encourage me to make a wish, urging me not to reveal my heart’s desire to anyone for then it couldn’t come true.”
A smile on his face, her husband gazed at her. “And did it come true?”
“Sometimes. Depending on the wish I’d made.”
“And what did you wish for?”
Meeting his eyes, Charlotte smiled. “But my lord, were you not listening? If I were to reveal my heart’s desire to you, it couldn’t possibly come true.”
“Your heart’s desire,” he repeated in hush tones, gazing down into her eyes. As he shifted in his seat, his shoulder brushed against hers for the barest of moments.
A jolt went through Charlotte, and yet, the panic that usually seized her in such situations failed to appear. Had it been too innocent a touch for it to serve as a reminder of what she had suffered? Or could it possibly be an indication that her soul was beginning to heal?
Whatever the answer, Charlotte couldn’t help but smile, seeing an equally delighted expression on her husband’s face when she didn’t shrink back from him.
After delivering Victoria to her husband’s townhouse, they continued, their spirits even more subdued than before. The remainder of the day was spent in a quiet fashion, each one of them tending to their own thoughts as the servants carried trunk after trunk into the house, readying everything for the season ahead.
Standing by the window of her bedchamber, Charlotte gazed down at the busy street, its sounds and smells more familiar than anything she’d experienced in the last year. Again, she felt certain that if she were to turn around, she would find herself back home in her old room in her parents’ townhouse.
When a knock sounded on the door, Charlotte took a deep breath and turned around. “Enter.”
Surprised to see her husband walk toward her, Charlotte swallowed, then lifted her chin.
“Do you have everything that you need?” he asked, his eyes searching her face as though trying to reclaim the moment of intimacy they’d shared in the carriage.
“I do. Yes. Thank you.”
Standing before her, he simply looked down into her eyes, seemingly at a loss for words, and although Charlotte could not bring herself to object to his presence in her chamber, the silence that stretched between them began to grow heavy. “If you don’t mind my saying
, my lord,” she began, turning away and reclaiming her spot by the window, “I believe it would not be such a good idea for me to attend social events.”
“It would not?” he asked, a touch of humour in his voice.
Charlotte drew in a deep breath as her fears hammered in her chest. “If I did, people would immediately know that I’m not one of them and treat me accordingly. I admit I’d rather not see their pity and disapproval.” Glancing over her shoulder, Charlotte wondered if he believed her. “Do you not think you punished your father sufficiently simply by marrying me? Or do you truly intend to ruin his reputation−as well as your own−further by parading me around upper society?” Once more turning her back to him, Charlotte held her breath, hoping that he would release her from the agreement they’d made.
For a moment, he remained quiet, and she almost thought he’d slipped from the room unnoticed. Then, however, the soft footfall of his steps carried him closer until he came to stand behind her.
Goose bumps rose on Charlotte’s skin, and her breath caught in her throat as she felt his presence with every fibre of her body. As the silence stretched on, Charlotte could barely keep herself from turning around. Yet, she feared to meet his eyes and see his heart’s desire plainly and unveiled.
“For as long as I’ve known you,” he spoke into her ear, his breath tickling her skin, “I’ve never seen you behave any differently than the well-brought up lady that you are.”
At his words, the blood froze in Charlotte’s veins, and before she could stop herself, her head snapped up and she spun around, her eyes searching his. “What did you say?”
As his penetrating gaze held hers, a gentle smile curved up his lips. “You have the manners and graces of someone belonging to upper society. I suppose I would have realised it sooner,” he explained, “had I not been so determined to marry a woman of inferior standing in to spite my father. It was a foolish plan. I realise that now; yet, I cannot regret what happened.”