A sense of pride welled up in her. She could just picture him standing tall and handsome before his peers, commanding their attention with his intelligence and ability to articulate his points.
“By the way, I almost forgot. He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry he’s been too busy to see you, but that absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.”
“And you’re just now telling me this?” she asked with some exasperation, since she’d spent the last half hour in his company, and it did seem when one was entrusted with a message, one ought to convey it sooner rather than later. Still, a warm glow of pleasure suffused her from head to toe at the knowledge William had been missing her company just as she’d missed his. She’d rather convinced herself that, for him, it had been a case of out of sight, out of mind. It made her unspeakably happy to know this wasn’t true.
“I only received the message from him last night,” Phillip protested. “And you know my brain isn’t at its best in the morning. At least I remembered to tell you now.”
William missed her! Charlotte floated through the day on a cloud of happiness.
The knowledge that he yearned for her company just as she yearned for his made her giddy with joy and filled her with a shivery anticipatory fervor for their next meeting. Surely Parliament would reach an agreement soon.
Two days later, she was thinking much the same thing—Parliament must come to a consensus soon. It had been a week since she and William had attended the Vandevere ball together. A week that seemed so much longer than a mere seven days, though she took satisfaction in what she had managed to accomplish in that span of time. Thanks in part to her efforts, the house at Red Lion Square was almost ready for occupants. And there were the two afternoons spent shopping for clothes with Elizabeth and Lydia—shopping trips Charlotte herself had instigated. But with the Rochester ball around the corner, and Elizabeth still forging ahead with plans for an engagement ball, she couldn’t ignore the need for new ball gowns any longer. Not that she confined herself to purchasing only ball gowns, because at the urging of William’s sisters, she also purchased a new evening gown, three day dresses, and various accessories to go with them.
She sighed, staring at the swatches she’d ordered from the linen drapers. Working on the house at Red Lion Square had inspired her to do a bit of redecorating closer to home. The furnishings in Phillip’s town house were adequate, but outdated. Reupholstering the sofas and chairs in the sitting room and replacing the drapes in all the first-floor rooms would smarten things up considerably without incurring a great deal of expense.
The late morning sun streamed into the sitting room as she studied the look of the different sets of swatches she’d draped over the sofa. She liked the hunter-green damask shot through with gold thread, but would it be too dark in the evening light? Maybe she should go with the royal blue. It was a brighter, more cheerful color, but she wasn’t sure Phillip would like it. She could ask him which he preferred, of course, but he hated when she posed that sort of question. More often than not, he’d shrug and tell her to choose. Now if she were to ask whether he preferred roast pheasant or rack of lamb for dinner…that was a question he’d happily answer.
Her mental debate of the green versus blue question was interrupted when William unexpectedly walked through the sitting room door, looking so impossibly handsome that she drew in a sharp breath, almost afraid he was only a mirage conjured up because she’d missed him so. He crossed the room swiftly, took her hands in his, and for several seconds they just stood there, drinking in each other’s presence.
“You are a sight for sore eyes,” he said at last. Then he bent down and kissed her, warmly, but too briefly.
“What are you doing here?” Her gaze roamed over his familiar features, taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the careworn lines, which his smile didn’t quite erase. “Phillip left two hours ago, and warned me it would likely be another late evening for Parliament.”
“I expect it will be,” he said, smiling down at her in a way that sent a tingling thrill of excitement through her. “But I stayed up all night drafting a new and, hopefully, final proposal to be brought to a vote this evening. I think I deserve a couple of hours to spend as I like.”
“You look like you should spend them taking a nap,” she replied.
One dark brow shot up and his eyes twinkled roguishly. “That might be a tempting suggestion…in the right circumstances.” And from the husky tone of his voice she knew precisely what circumstances he meant. “But since I doubt you’ve abandoned your adherence to propriety in the past week, I have another idea.”
“And that is…?” she prompted when he didn’t immediately reveal what his idea was.
“Maybe I should keep it a surprise,” he said, unable to resist teasing her. He’d missed teasing her, missed laughing with her, missed kissing her. He couldn’t wait for Parliament to reach a resolution on the war debt.
“Tell me,” she said, glancing up at him through her lashes, clearly trying to beguile an answer out of him.
“Resorting to feminine wiles, are we? This is a new tactic from you.”
“Is it working?”
He laughed. “All right, you minx. A picnic. I know the perfect spot for it, and it’s being set up for us as we speak. But don’t think you’ll flirt the location out of me, because that is a surprise. Now put on a pretty bonnet and let’s be off.”
“Bossy,” she murmured as he tugged on her hands and pulled her toward the doorway where a smiling Sally waited, bonnet in hand.
At her quizzical glance, he shrugged and said, “I might have suggested that Hopkins have your maid fetch the appropriate headwear for you.”
A short time later William drove his curricle into Berkeley Square and they drew to a halt outside an arched wrought iron gate, the entrance to the private keyed garden in the square’s center.
“Well? Does the location meet with your approval? I thought it might, given your comments about it that day we visited Gunter’s.”
“It’s perfect,” she said softly, and for a moment he found himself captivated by her happy, unguarded expression. This was the version of Charlotte he glimpsed too infrequently.
“I’m glad you think so,” he said at last.
He handed the reins to a waiting groom, exited the curricle, and came around to help her down. Extracting a key from his pocket, he unlocked the gate, and they proceeded down a graveled path into the heart of the garden where a pair of footmen were just finishing laying out the picnic refreshments.
An assortment of platters with cold meats and cheeses, fruits and biscuits, and a basket of rolls sat on the snowy linen tablecloth. A pitcher of iced lemonade, the outside dewy with moisture, sat beside a pair of crystal glasses. Two places had been set.
Thanking the footmen, William dismissed them, then he reached for Charlotte’s hand and brought it to his lips for a swift kiss before leading her to one of the chairs. “Shall we?” he asked as he pulled it out for her.
“I can’t believe you arranged this on such short notice.”
“I’ve had it in mind for a while, but there was no opportunity to put my plans into action before now.” He settled himself in the other chair, which wasn’t opposite her, but was more cozily placed on the adjacent side of the table, immediately to Charlotte’s right. Around them the greenery grew thickly, providing a natural screen from the rest of the garden, as well as from the houses that ringed the square.
“It’s lovely here…a peaceful oasis in the midst of a city block,” she said. “Thank you for bringing me, although I still think you ought to be resting. You look as if you’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”
“Sleep can wait.” He took her hand in his, lightly stroking his thumb along her knuckles. “I needed to see you more. I’ve missed you terribly, and I felt all adrift without you there to keep me in line this week.”
Adrift was putting it mildly. The truth was he’d felt her absence from his life more k
eenly than he’d have thought possible. There was more he wished to say, but he hesitated. Her eyes had assumed a guarded look, and he was afraid he’d pushed her into retreat yet again when her gaze shifted to a point past his shoulder.
“I missed you, too,” she said at last, the words low and tentative, almost as if she were making the admission against her will.
“I think we should talk about that.” At her frown, he added, “Not now. Our time this morning is too short. But later. When this war funding debate is behind us.” He relinquished her hand. “Let’s eat, and while we do I want to hear what you’ve been up to this past week. You already know what’s claimed my time the last several days.” He passed her one of the platters of food. “I gather from the swatches I spied this morning draped over your sitting room furniture you’re thinking of redecorating.”
“I am, although nothing too drastic,” she said, putting some cold chicken on her plate before passing the dish back to him. “If Phillip ever marries, I expect his wife will want things to reflect her taste, so I don’t want to make extensive changes. On the other hand, it seemed a good time to update things a bit.”
“And what else have you been doing besides that?” he prompted.
She gave a little laugh. “Nothing particularly interesting, I assure you.”
“Tell me anyway. I’m interested.”
“Well, while you’ve been occupied with the weighty matters of government, I’ve spent quite a bit of time with Serena. She’s put me to work writing dozens of letters seeking donations for a new property she’s leased to house more war widows, along with their children. In fact, that’s partly what inspired my redecorating project. It only seemed right to come up with a few useful items myself.”
“Sounds as if you share Serena’s passion for helping others.”
“I do. Her enthusiasm is so infectious, one can’t help but be inspired by it.”
He shook his head. “I can tell you not everyone finds her actions inspiring, though that’s partly because she occasionally defies convention in the pursuance of what she views as right.”
“Sometimes defying conventions is the only way to change them,” she said. “But don’t worry. I’m not as bold as she is. Still, she’s helped me discover a desire to do more, to live with more purpose than I have in the past.” Suddenly, she looked self-conscious. “I didn’t mean to turn so serious on you.”
“I don’t mind, and I understand the need to make a difference. What kind of world would we live in if nobody felt that way?”
“You do,” she said swiftly. “Feel compelled to make a difference, I mean. It’s why you were willing to risk entering into a temporary betrothal with a girl you’d never met. At that time, you couldn’t possibly be certain I’d cry off.”
He smiled at that. “After doing such a thorough job alienating you, I was pretty confident of it. But not risking my chance at the chairmanship wasn’t my only motivation. Chairmanship or no, I wasn’t willing to let you be hurt.”
“I hope you get it,” she said. “I truly do.”
He thought she’d never looked so beautiful. Her cheeks were tinted a delicate pink, and the breeze had worked some tendrils of hair loose, softening her features as they lay in loose curls against her cheeks and forehead. In that moment he wanted to kiss her more than anything.
But before he could act on the thought, she spoke again, “We ought to eat some of this food before we have to leave. You said you only had a couple of hours.”
“And so I do,” he said. “If we don’t linger over our plates too long, we could take a turn about the garden. There are some lovely flower beds at the north end.”
Conversation lagged as they focused on the food. He hadn’t had a proper meal since breakfast yesterday morning, so he ate with unusual gusto. She ate with much more decorum, and he found himself fascinated with watching her eat. Or more precisely, he was fascinated with those rosy lips of hers. Thoughts of kissing her again had never been far away from his mind even while his parliamentary duties had kept them separated this week.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, pushing aside her plate, then dabbing at her mouth with a napkin.
“Looking at you like what?”
“Like I have crumbs on my chin or something,” she said. “I don’t know. It just seemed like you were looking at me differently somehow.”
“No, no crumbs. I’m just enjoying your company, that’s all.” He pushed his chair back and stood, then went and pulled her chair out for her. “I think we have just enough time for a stroll, and then we must head back.”
Walking about the garden was mostly an excuse to remove some of the physical distance between them. With her hand tucked so snugly around his elbow, their bodies bumped together from shoulder to hip. They followed the meandering graveled path that crisscrossed the five acres that made up the square’s parklike setting.
He wanted to kiss her again, to hold her in his arms, to bury his face in her rose-scented hair, but afraid that she’d erect that wall of reserve she threw up whenever he acted lover-like, he bided his time. A kiss could wait, though he did intend to take advantage of the privacy offered by some leafy-bowered corner of the garden before it was time to leave.
He asked her to tell him more about the war widows project and she did. He hadn’t realized just how big Serena’s plans were, but he was greatly impressed with the scope of her vision.
“I daresay you ladies have planned a much better program than if the government had been involved.”
“Perhaps, but we don’t have access to the type of funds the government could provide if they’d taken up the cause.”
“The war debt has hampered the treasury’s ability to fund much of anything at present beyond the essentials to keep the government running, which is why it’s imperative that we find a way to pay it off. But once the state of England’s coffers have improved, your efforts could provide the template for some governmental involvement. I’d certainly be willing to bring it up on the floor. And no doubt, Huntington would support it.”
“Do you expect that will be anytime soon?” she asked.
His glance was regretful as he said, “Realistically, not very soon.”
“In that case…” She tilted her head up to give him a saucy look. “You don’t happen to have any extraneous household linens or furnishings you’d care to donate to a very worthy cause, do you?”
“As a matter of fact, you’re in luck. Libby oversaw an extensive renovation of my town house a couple of years ago, and I’m sure there are items that went into storage that could be put to better use. I’ll speak to my housekeeper about it.”
“See that you do,” she said with a mock severity he found adorable.
“I kind of like it when you turn bossy like that,” he said.
They’d nearly returned to the picnic area, and since the foliage was obligingly thick here, and he’d waited long enough, and that saucy attitude of hers was so very seductively appealing, it was time to indulge his long-held inclination to kiss her. When he paused in the shelter of a leafy bower, she let go of his arm and turned to him with a questioning glance.
“Oh,” she said, comprehending his intentions. “But we shouldn’t. Someone might see.”
“I think this spot adequately protects us from prying eyes, but so what if it doesn’t?” he asked, pulling her unresisting into his arms. “What will happen? I’ll have to marry you? We’re already betrothed, remember?”
“But not actually betrothed,” she whispered.
“Ah, but we are, though heretofore temporarily.”
“But—”
“Charlotte, can we save the debate for another time? I’m desperate to kiss you.”
She blinked, then nodded, and there was no more talking for the next several minutes. At last, William lifted his head and loosened his hold on her. Nearby church bells were ringing the hour, reminding him that this time with her was, by necessity, fleeting. Charlotte was lookin
g at him uncertainly, her lips parted and with a rosy fullness that betrayed what they’d just been doing. He loved it when she looked like that…when she looked like his, marked by his kisses.
Had he been marked by hers? he wondered. For she had kissed him just as greedily, just as urgently, just as passionately. In fact, if they hadn’t been in the middle of a garden square, he doubted that they would have confined themselves to merely kissing.
“I have a meeting in an hour, and I need to prepare for tonight’s debate sometime. Would that we could stay here longer, but I’m afraid we can’t.”
She stepped back, and smoothed the front of her gown, while he retrieved her bonnet which had, at some point during their passionate embrace, fallen to the ground. William had a hazy memory of untying the bonnet ribbons, the better to kiss the sensitive skin of her jaw and throat.
“I know,” she replied, setting the bonnet on her head. “I have plans this afternoon as well. We’re meeting at Lady Beasley’s to discuss an idea Serena has for a new fundraising campaign.”
“Back to work then,” he said. “But soon, very soon I hope, I can monopolize your time shamelessly.”
Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte was jubilant. At breakfast, Phillip had shared the glad tidings that in the wee hours of the morning Parliament had finally passed the comprehensive measure to fund the war debt. Although she’d felt like dancing a jig right there at the table, she’d refrained, but inside she was exultant. Life could return to its normal rhythms, and that meant she’d have the pleasure of William’s company tonight at a dinner party the Peytons were hosting.
She was bubbly with anticipation at seeing William again. Already this morning a large bouquet of red and yellow roses had arrived from him. The accompanying note had been brief: Thinking of you and counting the hours until I can see you this evening. Ever yours, William.
Not the Kind of Earl You Marry Page 23