She watched him with guarded eyes. No doubt wondering if their circumstances were a thing they’d ever manage to overcome. Truly live without regret. “What do you want from me, Alex?”
“A chance.”
Slowly, contemplatively she nodded. “I need to think.” Charley dashed from the room in a flurry of skirts, thick braid flying behind her. Alex made no move to stop her, merely sat before the hearth frustrated in more ways than one.
The fact he may have been cuckolded by his wife and best friend—or some other conveniently available gent—gnawed at his gut. True she’d seemed sincere in denying the accusation, but who was to say she wasn’t lying?
Steeling his nerves he stood, the sideboard littered with bottles and brandy decanters catching his eye.
A drink, that’s what he needed. The stiffer the better.
Hell he needed to get bloody foxed. Exhausted to the point of physical illness he stumbled toward the cupboard, but stopped short beside the pianoforte, another vision haunting his mind. Charley dressed all in white, perched on the bench, happily banging away on the keys… she loved the damned instrument. How many times had he, his brothers, and Thomas begged her to stop playing as children? With a heavy sigh he tapped a few of the ivory keys. Without Charley’s youthful enthusiasm the chords echoed hollow and empty off the walls. Ruefully, Alex shook his head. What he wouldn’t give to hear her play today. He struck one last note, holding it out, letting the sound fill the room.
“I’ve hardly heard her play since the day you left.” The soft voice of his mother-in-law mingled with the waning note.
“Which time?” Alex asked without looking up. He sat on the bench feeling somehow closer to Charley.
Gentle footfalls padded across the room. “The last time I heard her play was the day she turned seventeen.”
Ah, yes, that fateful day… An image of the carved knight burned before his mind’s eye. Something in the universe had shifted that day, between he and Charley, around them, mayhap even for them. “Why did she stop?”
“True talent stems from the heart.” A thin smile touched Evelyn’s lips. “When the heart is broken, joys of the heart, like music, tend to disappear.”
Lovely. He’d broken Charley’s heart and trampled her purest talent. What a wretch. “I never meant to hurt her, Evelyn.”
“We rarely intend to hurt anyone,” she said softly. “In time she’ll come to see that everyone makes mistakes, especially those we love.”
Alex shifted uncomfortably. He’d intentionally hurt a lot of people, and all for his own ends. “I fear she’ll never trust me again, and after everything that’s happened I don’t blame her. I don’t deserve forgiveness from her or anyone else.”
“Have a bit of faith, Alex.”
“I’ve never been much good with leaps of faith.”
“Fortunately for you Charley is. She’s never given up on you, you know.”
She left him then to contemplate her words. Wise words. It would behoove him to heed them, and he knew it, however, the female species baffled him and he was still left with no idea how to prove his sincerity to Charley.
He ran his fingers the length of the keyboard and stood. “Bloody muck I’ve made of everything.”
As if on cue one of the hulking wolfhounds came lumbering into the room, tail wagging, and tongue hanging out one side of his mouth.
“Well, hello, boy.” Alex knelt before the animal, ruffling the loose fur behind both ears. “Tell me, where can I find the good brandy? Not the watered down wine and sherry sitting out for guests, but the good stuff.”
The hound leaned into his hands and moaned. Alex gazed into those big liquid brown eyes. Happy eyes. The innocent happiness privy only to dogs and children. Alex sighed. It was a sad day indeed when one found himself envious of a dog, but he would give his title, his fortune, even his left arm to reclaim a measure of such sweet innocence. To go back to a day when he wasn’t a miserable bastard who’d lost his entire family and continued to drive his wife away at every turn.“Coverstone, a word?”
The voice of his brother-in-law pulled Alex from the depths of his thoughts. He wiped a hand over his face, preparing for the confrontation which was bound to be ugly. He splayed his hands, inviting the younger man to speak.
Tall, blonde and perfectly reformed the young viscount exuded a confidence far beyond his four and twenty years. “This is about my sister and you may not like what I have to say.”
Alex respected a man who did not beat around the bush. “Very well, go on.”
“Charley has overcome a great deal in the last few years.”
“I’m well aware of what she’s been through, Huntfield.” More than a little irritated by the reminder, a twinge of infamous tempter flickered at the surface of his self control, threatening to rear it’s ugly head.
With measured strides Thomas strode forward, green eyes flashing with brotherly warning. The twins fought with unprecedented rancor, but defended one another just as vehemently. “You’re a cold son of a bitch, Alex, and if you hurt my sister again, I’ll kill you.”
Alex laughed. “Pistols at dawn for a disagreement with my own wife?” He’d faced down countless seas of blue clad French soldiers, weapons loaded and bayonets fixed, if this wet behind the ears youngling thought Alex could be intimated he had another thing coming.
“I didn’t say anything about pistols at dawn,” Thomas said evenly. “I’ll just kill you.”
“Noted, Huntfield.” Alex shook his head. “I don’t understand, three years ago you stood with your father and all but steered me to the altar with a gun to my back. Why the sudden concern for Charley’s happiness now.”
“Because you were supposed to take care of her,” Thomas said huskily. “But instead you left. The look on her face when you rode out…” he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve been warned. Take care of her and treat her right or you’ll answer to me.”
“A word of caution, Thomas, before you threaten a man,” he fixed his brother-in-law with a hard glare, “be sure you’re prepared to follow through.”
Thomas sneered and stalked away without further comment.
Alex shook his head. Less hostility had been displayed by the damn French. Odd he should be reminiscent of his war days, but he had the sneaking suspicion he’d left one battlefield for another much more cunning set of foes.
Seven
The conversation with Thomas set the tone for the entire evening. Despite their brief, tender interlude by the fire Charley avoided Alex like the plague, Thomas glared at him all through dinner, and Lord Grayson insisted upon calling him Richard. Only Evelyn and the dogs seemed pleased by his presence and oblivious to the turmoil. Christ he was tired, but entirely too keyed up to sleep.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Charley rose delicately from the table, Alex, Thomas and lastly Lord Grayson quickly followed suit. “I’m going to retire for the evening.”
“As will I,” Alex added, attempting to catch his wife’s eye.
Charley hardly deigned to glance at him as she tapped toward the door.
Alex ground his teeth, clenching his fists behind his back. How could she be so indifferent to his every glance and caress when he so keenly sensed her between rooms? Not to be deterred Alex followed her. “Where will I be staying?”
Her eyes locked briefly with his before fixing straight ahead of her. “With me.”
“Really?”
“You’re welcome to take up residence in the barn,” Charley clipped.
“Quite alright. A warm bed beside you is bound to be much more comfortable.”
She gasped, and quickened the pace.
“If you lower your quills that is.”
“I don’t have quills.”
“Then what do you call this bit of attitude? Prickly?”
She turned back to him and scowled. “I’m not prickly, I’m—I’m… guarded.”
“Is that what they call the cold brush off these days?” Alex knew he sho
uld shut his mouth and work toward getting back in her good graces, actually be worthy of the chance he’d asked of her, but needling her seemed to be the only way to spark her into decent conversation. He needed information to know what he was up against. Was he competing with another man? The past? Or both? She put on an excellent show of brimming inexperience and chaste innocence, but there was one foolproof way to know if her emotions were otherwise entangled. Bed her… revel in her experience or the lack thereof. The prospect was entirely too tempting.
Charley led the way down the dark hall leading to her bedchamber, Alex followed a few steps behind, pondering the scheme. She reached the door to her bedchamber, turning the knob with notably shaky hands and shoved into the dark room.
Alex sidled in, hot on her heels, and quickly shut the door. She jumped. He grinned. She certainly pervaded an air of untouched naivety.
“Now, listen here,” she said officiously, planting a fist on her hip and shooting a finger in his direction. “I’ll have you know—whoa!” Her toe caught on the edge of a trunk and she cried out, pitching forward.
“Careful now.” Alex looped an arm around her delectably slender waist, pulling her up, and trapping her against his chest. Plump breasts crushed against his chest. Charley gasped, attempting to wiggle out of his hold, but Alex held firm, one arm securely fastened about the small of her back. “I wouldn’t want you to survive that awful ordeal last night only to break your neck safe and sound in your own room.”
“So sorry,” she mumbled. “I can’t see very well in the dark.
“Lucky for you I have excellent night vision.”
A lone beam of silvery moonlight sliced through the inky darkness, lighting Charley’s youthful face. Alex cocked his head to the side, she was so completely lovely, and also entirely his to have and hold as he pleased. The thought sent a jolt of pure heat through him, erasing any last notion of fatigue.
Charley relaxed a bit, leaning into him. Their hips nestled intimately together and his wife’s petite, slender hands settled on his chest. “Are you going to let go of me?” The crackle of fire still laced her tone.
“Not quite yet.” He traced a thumb along the milky smooth curve of her cheek. The liquid green seas of her eyes widened and her bottom lip quivered enticingly. He pulled his thumb across the moist petal, wanting nothing more than to sample the rosy sweetness once more. A dreamy sigh slipped from her lips and she rested her face in his palm. Encouraged Alex laced his fingers through the strawberry tresses falling half-hazard around her heart shaped cheeks. Pure silk.
Deftly Alex plucked the braid apart with his fingers, letting her hair tumble unbound down her back. The strands were dangerously long, falling clear past the small of her back. If wet how long would it be? How would she be wet? Oh, God… his entire body went hard with the thought and he groaned aloud. Charley’s eyes widened impossibly, and he suspected she’d stopped breathing altogether. Mesmerized he ran his fingers through the luxurious waves. “You’re hair is so soft,” he murmured, leaning forward, burying his face in the curve of her sweet smelling neck. Oh, yes, Charley was a luxury indeed. Unable to resist he stroked his lips across the velvety soft flesh of her throat. So smooth.
She trembled beneath his touch, tentatively trailing her fingers down the camber of his chest; his skin burned beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. How would those dainty fingers feel against bare skin? Quite likely her untrained touch would be the death of him. Never had he been so affected by the mere essence of a woman. He was near to wrecked, lost in a haze of her scent and taste.
“Tell me, love,” he hummed against her throat, sliding his hands along her shoulders. “Why is it that whenever I’m in your presence I have the overpowering urge to kiss you?”
Those delicate little hands stilled. “I think you’re already kissing me.” The sultry lilt of her voice clinched his gut, drawing him in until the haze clouding his mind shrouded all else, leaving the world around them blurred in obscurity. Only Charley stood out in surprising clarity.
“Oh, sweet Charley, this isn’t a kiss.”
“No?”
“No,” he groaned, grasping her face. “This is a kiss.” Alex’s lips eclipsed hers, pressing hard and firm, demanding against hers. If he thought she’d tasted sweet before, he’d been wrong, miserably so… She was better than anything he could have imagined. Her lips were made for kissing, perfectly manicured for his mouth. Better… she kissed like a virgin. His virgin. Charley swayed into him, melting like sugar in the rain.
She whimpered, parting her lips a bit more boldly than she had that afternoon. Alex answered the unwitting invitation with zeal even he’d not anticipated. He groaned, roughly running his hands along her nymph’s body, grasping her against his hips. The physical attraction between them was undeniable and he dared her to deny it with his touch.
Charley stroked her tongue against his, unsure, experimenting, it nearly killed him. He had to have her. Now. Fumbling with the buttons and stays of her gown he finally ripped the fabric at her back. He’d buy her another. Hell, he’d buy her one hundred. The gown pooled on the floor, revealing Charley’s lacey stays. A tiny pink bow nestled enticingly between her breasts, begging him to reach out and smooth his fingers over it. He dropped his head down and kissed it instead.
She froze.
Lost in a fog Alex hardly noticed. He lifted her up, pressing his lips to her throat once again. “Oh, Charley,” he murmured in a voice he hardly recognized. “I never imagined you’d be like this. So beautiful… so perfect… I want you.” He settled her on the bed, moving to cover her petite frame with his body.
“Alex, wait. Please stop.” Charley sat bolt upright, crossing her arms over her chest. The dreamy glow drained from her eyes. “This is too fast.”
“Too fast?” He stumbled back a step, breathing heavily. They were man and wife for Christ sake. Alex shook his head, trying to grasp some shred of logic or composure, but the only thing he knew is how damned edible she looked perched on the bed in naught but her under things, the burnished expanse of her wavy hair tumbling in disarray about her face and shoulders, kissing the rounded breasts just peaking over the splash of lace lining her white chemise. He wanted to devour her. Give him one more kiss, maybe two, and he would convince her that she did not want him to stop. Alex took a step back toward the bed and stopped short; her huge, terrified eyes bore into him, delving straight into his soul.
“Why did you kiss me again?” She snatched a pillow from beneath the heavy quilt, shielding herself from his gaze.
“Charley…” He opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came. All he could think to say was Charley and the name rolled so perfectly off his tongue that all he wanted was to say it again… preferably in that bed… with her arms and legs wrapped around him.
“Why?”
Because I haven’t had sex since God only remembers when. Not the best approach. “Because you’re my wife.”
“I am not your wife.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. Still not the best answer. Suddenly Alex had serious doubts about his logic that if she kissed like an innocent she hadn’t been with another man. “I am your means to an end. Your means to an heir. I heard you and your mother talking. All you want is to see me bedded and round with child so you can go back to your military career. Sidney warned me as well.”
Alex recoiled as if she’d struck him. Return to duty? The concept was laughable. Had she seen him walk? “Is that what you think of me?”
A single tear dripped over her bottom lid, tracing a forlorn path along her cheek, and that single tear appeared as lonely as he felt inside. “It’s the truth, Alex. We both know you don’t think of me as your wife any more than I consider you my husband. Do not mistake me for one of those silly females who will fall giggling into your arms over a few pretty speeches and a kiss.”
“If I’m not mistaken you were falling into my arms just a moment ago.”
She gasped, thoroughly affronted. “I tripped.”
; A bark of ironic laughter burst from his throat. “And fell right into my arms. Would you deny the truth?”
“Yes.” She faced him stubbornly, a defiant gleam in her eye.
Pure fire pumped in his veins, dragging his tightly controlled emotions out of the hole he’d stuffed them in so many years ago. Christ above did she have any idea how close she was to being thoroughly ravished? Probably not.
Challenge sparked in her eyes. “You think that because I looked to you with the moon in my eyes as a child I’ll fall into bed with you without a single question, but you’re wrong. In fact I think it’d be best if we just dissolve our marriage.”
Dissolve the marriage? Abruptly he stepped forward, trapping Charley between the mattress and the flat of his rock hard chest. The heat of her vivacious figure flowed freely through him, heating his blood to a boil. “No,” he growled. “Out of the question. You’re mine.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?” Her voice softened… changed. “Please, Alex, tell me what’s different from three years ago? Give me proof.”
“I’ve had a lot time to think.”
She shook her head. The mess of fiery curls swirling through the air. “Three years isn’t so very long.”
“Then perhaps dying had something to do with it.”
Charley’s jaw dropped a foot, and Alex could have kicked himself for blurting the truth behind his charge of heart. She’d believe him mad if he told her of his experience on the battlefield. Hell, half the time he didn’t believe it himself.
“D-dying?” Charley stammered. “What do you mean?”
Alex put his arms up and stepped back defensively. “Forget it. You’d never understand.” He scooped his discarded jacket from the floor and headed for the door. “Rest assured, my lady, I will not touch you again unless it is upon your implicit request.”
* * *
Charley licked her lips—still tingling from Alex’s searing kisses the night before—tossed the cool rag resting over her eyes aside, and rose irritably from the chaise in her bedroom. The cloth hit the floor with a distinctive squish.
Light to Valhalla Page 11