An Unwilling Earl

by Sharon Cullen

  Good Lord, but all the blood had drained to his cock, and it was standing at attention, ready and willing to make the sacrifice. He hoped to God he wasn’t walking funny.

  The silence was becoming awkward. Was she thinking the same things? Did women even think about making love? He’d heard that men were far more driven by the need than women. Though, Cora had been energetic in the bedroom.

  Sweat was beginning to form on his forehead, and he was fairly certain he was not walking normally.

  Maybe it was best to get it out in the open. After all, a good marriage was based on trust and honesty, right? “Where do we go from here?” he asked. “What is our next step?”

  They walked a few paces, and he let her have the time she needed to form an answer. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Was that too crass? Good God, he needed to know if he could make love to Charlotte. Now. As soon as they got home.

  “I think we need to pay a visit to the detective,” she said. “We need to do that right away, before others get wind of our marriage and my aunt realizes what we’ve done.”

  He wanted to groan in defeat and frustration. She hadn’t understood his question.

  They were walking on the street, passing others. He was nodding to the couples they passed as if he didn’t have a raging erection and a near-uncontrollable desire to bed his wife.

  “I agree,” he said. “I’d like to get it done and over with as soon as possible.” Heaven help him, but he wanted to do something else as soon as possible. This was painful and so uncomfortable. He willed his body to calm down, but it raged with an unholy need that had been denied for too many years.

  It was getting darker, the shadows longer. The crowds on the streets were thinning, and light was spilling from windows of the homes they were passing. A slight breeze had blown up. The day of their wedding was coming to a close. How many more days did they have left?

  “What if I’m wrong?” she asked quietly. “What if Edmund isn’t the one killing those girls?”

  “If you are wrong, then you’re wrong, and the police can move on to other suspects.”

  “If I’m wrong then we didn’t need to get married in the first place.”

  His heart hurt a little at the quiet statement. “Is it that bad?” he asked. “Being married to me?”

  She grinned, and it was such a change from their serious conversation that it made his breath catch. “We’ve only been married half a day. Time will tell.”

  He chuckled as he led her up the stone steps to his house and opened the front door to let her in.

  He shrugged out of his coat and took her shawl, such a domestic scene, as if they’d been performing it for years, instead of days, and he hoped to God she didn’t see the bulge in his trousers.

  “It smells like Mrs. Smith has been cooking a delightful dinner for us,” she said, completely unaware of the war raging inside of him. He looked longingly at the steps that led to his bedroom. Hell, he didn’t care at this point. He would take her anywhere, but she seemed oblivious.

  Charlotte closed her eyes and lifted her head to sniff the air redolent of spices and some sort of beef. Jacob closed his eyes, too, and swallowed his groan.

  Suddenly his hands were cupping her face and his lips were descending upon hers and then devouring her with the hunger that he had been fighting since leaving the Crystal Palace.

  He kissed her like he was starving, like he would never get enough of her. And he was starving. Ravenous. Completely out of control. But he couldn’t help himself.

  Only when they heard Mrs. Smith clomping down the hall did he reluctantly pull away, cursing his housekeeper.

  “Oh, good, you’re here,” Mrs. Smith said, completely unaware of what she’d interrupted.

  Charlotte was looking at him with a dazed expression, her lips glistening. “I’ve prepared a nice wedding dinner just for the two of you. I can serve it whenever you are ready.”

  Charlotte looked away and touched the back of her hand to her lips. “I um… I’m ready for dinner.”

  She turned away from him, and Jacob had no choice but to follow her into the dining room while his body screamed in fury. How in the hell was he supposed to eat in his condition?

  Mrs. Smith served them then let them be, telling them to not worry about the plates, that she would get to them in the morning. A subtle hint that they were on their own for the rest of the night and would not be disturbed.

  Thank the Lord.

  “I don’t regret it,” Jacob said, halfway between the meal. They were the first words they’d spoken to each other since he’d kissed her, and he was feeling reckless, although he’d been careful to have only one glass of wine. Charlotte had had none.

  Charlotte looked up at him, her brows drawn in confusion. “Regret what?”

  “Marrying you. Earlier you had said that if we were wrong about Edmund then we needn’t have gotten married. I just want you to know that if we’re wrong, I don’t regret marrying you.”

  He felt like a weight had been lifted with the admission. He didn’t regret marrying her. He liked that he was married to her.

  And maybe Armbruster was right. Cora would understand.

  “Oh.” She looked down at her plate. “I just meant that if we are wrong then we didn’t have to get married.”

  Jacob put his fork down to consider her. “Do you think we are wrong? About Edmund?”

  She fiddled with her fork, still not looking at him. Thankfully, his body had cooled and was somewhat under control, although his erection was not as painful, it was still there, hoping.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to believe I’m right, but the parallel between how those girls were killed and what he did to those cats…” She shuddered. “It seems like something we can’t overlook.”

  “I agree.” He picked his fork up and was prepared to spear another piece of meat but put his fork back down and looked at her intently. “And what about our marriage? Do you think we were wrong to do that?”

  He was in a strange, intense mood. He hoped he wasn’t scaring Charlotte, but there were all of these emotions inside of him, and he didn’t know how to deal with them.

  “I think it’s far too late to wonder such a thing.” She grinned, and a bit of his anxiety lessened.

  “I don’t think we were wrong.” He picked his fork up again and speared his meat rather viciously.

  “I’m glad,” she said softly.

  He continued to eat while Charlotte just moved her food around on her plate.

  “Are you not hungry?” Jacob asked, eyeing her plate. “Mrs. Smith made your favorite dessert.”

  “I know. I’m just too nervous to eat.”

  “What are you nervous about?”

  Making love? Because despite his body’s obvious anticipation of it, he was nervous as well. He’d never bed another woman before. Only Cora.

  “This.” Her fingers fluttered through the air. “Everything.”

  “Meeting with the detective tomorrow?”

  “That, too.”

  She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and suddenly appeared pale and nervous, exactly as she had when he saw her right before the wedding ceremony. He’d been nervous then, too.

  “What do you expect from this marriage?” she blurted out. Her hand covered her mouth, and her eyes widened, as if she were appalled that she had voiced the question.

  But Jacob was glad to have it out in the open. “I guess I was waiting to find out what you wanted from this marriage,” he said.

  “You know what I want.”

  “Safety. Security. You have all of that. For as long as you want it. Even if you go to America and we are still married.”

  “You would let me go to America while we are still married?”

  “If that is what would make you feel safer.”

  “But why? Don’t you want to be free to find a wife?”

  His heart twisted. “I have a wife.”

  She folded her hands in her lap and looked at her plate
. “I like to think I’m a strong woman,” she said. “I survived my time with my aunt. I survived my time in the rookery. And yet, so many things frighten me.”

  “Strong people are scared all of the time. Facing their fears is what makes them strong.”

  “I don’t feel strong right now. I don’t know what the future holds. I used to think about my future when I was living with my aunt, and I knew that whatever it was, it couldn’t be as bad as the present. There had to be a better future for me. I clung to that, and I think it was that thought that gave me the courage to escape. But now, I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t know what path holds the rest of my future.”

  “What are the two paths?” he asked.

  She looked up at him. “America.” She paused. “Or England.”

  His breath caught in his throat. “I’m surprised to hear that you would consider staying.”

  “But if I stay the stain of divorce would follow us.”

  “If you stay is there a reason to divorce?”

  Her eyes glistened with tears in the candlelight. “We’ve not even been married for twenty-four hours. Is this really what we want to discuss on our wedding day?”

  “You were the one who said you were frightened of the future. Are you frightened because you do not know what it holds, or are you frightened because you suspect what it can hold?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Let’s abandon talk of the future of our marriage and concentrate only on the immediate future—tonight and tomorrow,” Jacob said. “Let’s take this one day at a time.”

  Tonight.

  It was the only word that her mind grabbed onto and the one word that she had avoided thinking about all day.

  Her future was an unknown, but more importantly, tonight was an unknown as well. What did Jacob expect of her? Did he want a true marriage in every possible way?

  She should not want that. This was temporary, right? Just until this murder investigation was cleared. And then she would go to America and all of this would be in the past.

  But it wasn’t as uncomplicated as all of that. In fact, it was very complicated.

  “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Charlotte.”

  “But what do you want?” Two made up a marriage. She might be naive to most of this, but she did know that it took two for a marriage to work.

  So did that mean she wanted this marriage to work?

  His eyes had darkened, and it was as if he became a different man, larger, more formidable. Instead of frightening her, it did something else to her. Made her stomach clench and her thighs tremble.

  “Do you really want me to answer that?” he said.

  “I want to know.” Her voice had grown soft, but not timid. “I need to know what you expect out of this marriage.

  “I want to take you to bed and make this a real marriage in all ways.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and she blinked, not expecting him to be so forthright.

  She could deny him. He said she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. She could say no on the pretense that eventually she would go to America and why complicate things?

  Or she could say yes and tie herself to him even more. They would be man and wife in all ways then.

  And then what? What did that mean for her? What did that mean for him? For their marriage? For her future plans?

  How had this all become so complicated?

  “I…” She should say no. But she didn’t want to say no. She wanted to say yes and lie with Jacob and know what it felt like. She wanted a true marriage, and she was well aware that doing so would compromise her future plans.

  He tilted his head and studied her, patiently waiting for her answer.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  What have I done? What have I just done?

  “Does that mean you agree?”

  Oh God, he was giving her a second chance. A way out.

  Take it.

  But she didn’t want to.

  “Yes,” she whispered again.

  He scooted his chair back, making her jump. “I see no need to waste any more time then.”

  More than likely he was afraid she was going to change her mind.

  He was suddenly standing next to her chair, his hand out to help her stand, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them before. She looked up at him, hesitating.

  “You can always change your mind.”

  Slowly she put her hand in his and stood. She was shaking all over, her knees trembling, her stomach quaking, and her fingers quivering in his. Gently he pulled her to him and put his arms around her waist so that they were chest to chest.

  “I remember when you saved me from the rearing horse,” she said, her voice not at all steady. “I landed on top of you. I was afraid you would discover that I was a girl under my disguise, so I quickly jumped up and ran away.”

  “I remember,” he said, his voice husky. “And I was a fool not to see what was right in front of me.”

  “I’m glad I came back that next day and followed you.”

  “I’m glad you did, too.”

  “Will you kiss me again?”

  He tasted of cherry pie and the essence that was only Jacob. She put her arms around his neck and folded her fingers in his hair and held on. Maybe that was what she needed to do, just hold on and trust.

  When he pulled away they were both breathing hard. His body was tight, and her legs were trembling so hard she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own. She was leaning against him in an improper way, a way that her aunt would call sinful, but that Charlotte called delightful.

  “I need to know that this is what you want,” Jacob said.

  “This is what I want.” There was no going back now. She’d set her course, and she wanted to follow it.

  Silently he took her hand and led her upstairs. He hesitated by the door to her room then tugged lightly on her hand, and she followed him to his bedroom. She’d never been in here before. It was masculine with touches of femininity, no doubt left over from Cora. The room was done in different hues of blues from the lightest, almost white, to the deepest royal. The curtains were blue and silver chintz.

  It was strange to think that this was not Jacob’s first turn at being a husband. She felt naive and had no idea how to even be a wife. She’d never seen one in action. The exception could be Sarah’s mother, but Sarah’s mother and father were rarely in the same room at the same time, so Charlotte didn’t even really have that to go on.

  The bed was a monstrosity displayed prominently in the room, a large, white elephant that took up most of the space, and Charlotte tried to avoid looking at it.

  Jacob dropped her hand to stoke the fire. The flames lit the room in tones of golds. There was a chair by the fireplace. A comfortable chair with the seat worn to a permanent indentation. A book lay open, facedown, on the small table beside the chair. She could only make out one word of the title, and that was “law.” The man didn’t seem to read for pleasure.

  A large wardrobe, with its doors closed, was against the far wall. There were no unnecessary clothes lying about. No shoes kicked off and abandoned. It was neat and tidy, just like the man who inhabited it.

  Jacob turned to face her, his face an expression of many questions.

  He took her clenched hands in his, raised her fists to his lips, and kissed her fingers.

  “I’ve never done this before,” she whispered.

  “I’ve never done this before with you.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “It can be as simple or as complicated as you want it to be.”

  Her aunt’s words came back to her. Fornicator. Sinful. Whore.

  But she was none of those because she was married to this man. Just like her mother had been married to her father.

  Charlotte cleared her throat. “I just want you to know that I’m not here to replace Cora.”

  “Ah, Charlotte. I know that.”

&nb
sp; “I know you still love her and another wife was not something you had wanted. I respect your love for her and would never presume to replace it.”

  He tilted his head and studied her. “Maybe there is room for two loves in one lifetime.”

  She wanted to believe that was true, but she also didn’t want to hope that someday the two of them could have a love like Jacob had had with Cora and Charlotte’s mother had had with her father.

  “I’m just happy to be here,” she said, surprised that she meant it. For weeks her sole goal had been to get to America, or rather, get away from England. Her path had taken a different, unexpected turn, and she wasn’t as upset as she thought she would be about it.

  “I’m pleased that you don’t regret your decision to marry me.”

  “I appreciate the sacrifice you made to keep me safe.”

  “It was not as much of a sacrifice as you think it was.”

  She grinned because his words warmed her heart, made her feel special and wanted. It had been so long since she’d felt wanted.

  He tugged on her hands, and she took a step closer, her head tilted up as his descended, and they kissed, standing before the fire, his hands covering hers.

  “You were beautiful today,” he whispered.

  “Thank you. And thank you for gifting me this lovely gown.”

  “We’ll get you more.”

  She wanted to demure but knew she couldn’t keep wearing Cora’s gowns. It was time to shed Cora, for Jacob’s sake as well.

  Jacob led her to the bed, and Charlotte’s knees were knocking together, she was so nervous. He kissed the spot where her neck and shoulder met, and she shivered at the unexpected thrill that shot through her. He moved his lips to her ear where his tongue explored the soft whorls and dips. Her breath was coming fast, and she felt heavy between her legs.

  She tilted her head to the side to allow him more access, a silent invitation to continue. His breath was warm and moist upon her skin as gooseflesh erupted up and down her arms.

  Her spine was tingling, and an unexpected wetness seeped between her legs.

  His lips moved down her neck. He pushed her gown off her shoulder, and he kissed her there, small, light kisses.

  “Turn around,” he said, his voice so husky that she barely recognized it.