“You should aim for riches, your looks alone will attract the best if you have a Season in London, as Dunham’s sister is so keen to offer you,” Stephen said, testing Charlotte with his words.
Charlotte laughed, “Now who is being silly and romantic? I have no dowry, a scarred face and an incomplete memory. Suitors with titles and riches will run for the hills, they will not want their lines of inheritance be tarnished by someone so unsuitable. I am not sturdy enough stock to provide them with their future generation,” Charlotte responded realistically.
Whether it was the thought of a houseful of young Charlottes running through his house, or whether it was the innate response he seemed to have to make everything right whenever she seemed vulnerable, Stephen did not know. What he did know was that he covered the space between them in two easy strides and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“They would be mad to take any of those into account. You are perfect and should have a title!” he muttered as he pulled her towards him.
Charlotte did not resist what Stephen was doing, but she did not encourage him either. She was too frightened to make any movement in case he pulled away. His touch had stirred something within her that was almost painful; she needed to feel closer to him.
Stephen pulled her into his arms and held her close. He should let her go, anyone could walk in and Dunham would not accept excuses this time. He had been angry enough when discovering them at the arrival of Charlotte’s uncle. He had just responded by instinct, he had not wanted her to feel anything other than she was perfect and worthy of any title in the land. She would make a fine bride. He squeezed harder at the thought of her with someone else.
Charlotte wriggled at the pressure. “Stephen?” she said quietly.
“I’m sorry, I was just carried away with my thoughts, that’s all,” he responded, releasing her a little, but not quite fully.
“Are you doing what I do, concentrating on memories that are just out of reach and hoping that something will jolt your memory?” Charlotte asked teasingly.
Stephen looked down into her laughing eyes, the green seemed to shimmer. She was beautiful and even moreso this close. He bent to lower his lips to hers. “Will this jolt your memory?” he asked before taking her mouth with his.
Charlotte had not realised how much she had wanted his lips until the moment they touched hers. She did feel a jolt, straight through the middle of her body. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was home.
Stephen moaned at her movement and pulled her closer. All thoughts of the dangers of them being disturbed gone. He wrapped her into an embrace that secured her body fully against his own. He wanted her to feel the reaction she caused in him.
Charlotte gripped the hair that she had remembered touching and pulled Stephen to her. She did not want the kiss to stop. It was as good as the first time, but this time without the fear and uncertainty. She pulled back in shock.
Stephen groaned and rested his head on her forehead. “Why have we stopped?” he asked, the hoarse tone in his voice showing how much the kiss meant to him.
“We’ve done this before!” Charlotte gasped.
Stephen paused before speaking, “What do you remember?”
Charlotte flushed, “I remember that it was as good as this, only before, there was fear and something else.”
“Every time?” Stephen asked, unable to stop himself.
Charlotte smiled, “There was more than once?”
“Oh yes,” Stephen said with feeling. “I think we should continue until you remember more.” He stopped anymore conversation by pushing her against the dining room table and kissing her as she had never been kissed before.
Charlotte could not have thought another coherent thought with the attack on her mouth that she fully welcomed. She pushed against Stephen as much as he pushed against her. His tongue explored hers as if he had never explored anyone else and his moans almost drove her to forget all of her previous memories, not just a few weeks.
Eventually Stephen pulled away and placed his hands on the table behind Charlotte. “We have to stop!” he said, but he was gasping for control.
Charlotte still had her arms around him and with a feeling of being almost wanton, she nibbled along his jawline and bit his ear lobe. “Why?” she whispered.
Stephen gripped the edge of the table. Never before had he come close to some severely lurid behaviour in a dining room. He fought for control while smiling at Charlotte’s attempts to encourage him to start kissing her again. He returned the kisses, he could not have refused her any at that moment, but eventually he gained enough control to move away from her.
“Tiger, you will be the death of me. If Dunham finds us like this, he is likely to call me out!” Stephen said gently, trying to fix his cravat.
Charlotte looked mortified at his words. “Oh my goodness! I’m sorry, I should have stopped you.”
Stephen smiled at her, her pupils were dilated, her lips bruised and her skin flushed, she had never looked so beautiful. He leant over and quickly kissed her. “No, you shouldn’t have, and now that you have remembered the fact that we have done that before, I am going to take as much opportunity as I can to repeat the process. I think it will help with your memory.”
Charlotte laughed and did not disagree with the proposal. The thought of kissing Stephen again, set her heart racing. After a few minutes Miss Fairfield re-entered the room. If she saw anything amiss, she did not give any indication of it.
“Miss Webster, Lord Dunham has left Elizabeth to write a letter to his sister and Elizabeth was wondering if you would like to spend a few moments with her before she has a rest?” Miss Fairfield said.
“Oh yes please!” Charlotte said happily.
Miss Fairfield smiled at the enthusiasm and once more led the way out of the room. Stephen was left to try to get the last vestiges of lust under control.
*
Charlotte entered Elizabeth’s bed chamber slowly. The room was darkened and it took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the dim light.
Elizabeth was sitting up in her bed; her cheeks flushed the exertion she had just been through. Her hair was still damp at the edges and clung to her cheeks and forehead. She was looking down at the bundle in her arms, but greeted Charlotte warmly.
“Charlotte, come and meet the new member of our family,” she said, her eyes glowing with pride.
“Are you well?” Charlotte whispered as she approached the bed. She had no prior experience of babies or the birth and felt a little unsure of what to do.
“I am very well now,” Elizabeth said with feeling. “There were points when I didn’t think that it would ever end, but now that she is here, I don’t mind so much.”
“She? You have a baby girl, how lovely!” Charlotte had reached the bed and was gazing down at the bundle of blankets and baby in Elizabeth’s arms. She could see the redness of the baby’s skin and a tuft of black hair.
“Yes, I have had to apologise to Michael for not producing an heir,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
“Oh, is he very disappointed?” Charlotte asked, a little worried that Lord Dunham would be disappointed when Elizabeth was so obviously happy.
Elizabeth laughed, “He’s not disappointed at all! He is the besotted uncle of three nieces, and now the besotted father of a beautiful girl. There is still lots of time for an heir to join our family.”
“What have you named her?” Charlotte asked, feeling sure that a father like Lord Dunham would ensure that his daughter behaved herself as she grew. Charlotte found him intimidating, and she was not related to him, so the bundle had immediate sympathy from Charlotte.
“Catherine Margaret Violet Birchall,” Elizabeth said softly, more to her daughter than Charlotte. “We have named her after each of our mothers and Violet of course. This little bundle has a lot to live up to, being named after three wonderful women.”
“She is lovely; and so small,” Charlotte said in awe of the littl
e baby. She felt a pang of something, whether longing, or hope, she was not sure, but she wanted her own little bundles that would have the blonde hair and blue eyes of their father.
It felt almost as if Elizabeth read Charlotte’s mind, because she turned to Charlotte and with her free hand, reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I have sometimes acted without thinking things through fully, but please believe me that I have only ever had your best interest at heart.”
“I know,” Charlotte said, flushing a little. “I didn’t mean the harsh things I accused you of.” She remembered with shame accusing Elizabeth of being jealous of Stephen’s feelings.
“I deserved them,” Elizabeth said with a grimace. “I have always been headstrong, maybe because I have had to be, but luckily I have married a man who is more considered than I ever could be.”
“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked.
“I should have kept my counsel about Stephen’s views on marriage,” Elizabeth said honestly.
“I’m glad I knew, it obviously helped me to make my decision in refusing his proposal,” Charlotte insisted.
“That’s the problem. My words influenced you and I think Michael was right. Stephen has changed since he met you; he has done things that he would have avoided at all costs prior to meeting you. You don’t realise it, but you have brought out the best in him. I am truly sorry that I have caused you both to be unhappy when I only ever wanted what was best for the both of you,” Elizabeth said.
Charlotte squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “I could never marry for convenience, and if that is what he was offering me, I could not have accepted his proposal, whether you had voiced your concerns or not,” she reassured.
“I want us to be friends,” Elizabeth said.
“We are and always shall be,” Charlotte said softly, but moved away from the bed. She had realised how tired Elizabeth looked and said her goodbyes, before leaving the room.
As she returned to her own bed chamber she mulled over Elizabeth’s words; so her friend believed that Stephen had changed because of the dealings he had had with her. The thought pleased her, although she did wish that she could remember everything, since if she could it would make life a little easier.
Chapter 26
Stephen found that his bruised pride could be soothed when he received kisses from Charlotte. Over the two weeks that Elizabeth was confined to her room because of the birth of Catherine, he was able to take full advantage of the change in circumstances. He was alone with Charlotte far more than he should have been, not only that, he kissed her far more than he should have done.
He took her on a walk and kissed her senseless in the rose garden. He took her for a ride and kissed her breath away by the fishing lake. He played billiards with her and made her legs weak by kissing her against the billiard table. In fact in every room that was free of servants, Stephen indulged in his desire to kiss Charlotte, fully, passionately and almost indecently. He barely kept a rein on his desire, but he did manage to stop himself from taking the next step. She was worth more than an illicit coupling.
Charlotte was a willing participant. It was strange to think that she was behaving in the most wanton way she had ever done and yet she was happier than she had ever been. Every moment she spent with Stephen was a moment to treasure. He made her laugh, made her insides squirm with pleasure and made her feel as if life was perfect.
The reality of it was that life was not really perfect though. He had never mentioned anything about marrying her, or renewing his addresses, but she was sure he must love her. He had never uttered the words, but his actions, the way his eyes lit up when hers met his, the way he sought her out, surely those were signs of love?
One afternoon Charlotte sat in the drawing room, trying to concentrate on her needlework, while being read snippets of the gossip columns by Stephen. Where ever she was, he was not far away, in some respects she thought that they must look like an old married couple, but she would not change a thing.
Michael entered the room and interrupted Stephen’s flow of trivia. “This letter has just arrived for you, Halkyn,” he said, handing Stephen the letter.
“Oh?” Stephen asked, laying the periodical down. “I’m not expecting anything.”
He opened the letter and from the moment he started to read, his demeanour changed. He frowned and hunched forward, taking careful note of every word contained in the letter. When he had finished, he crushed the letter in his grip and banged his fist on the arm of the chair.
“A problem?” Michael asked.
“There wouldn’t be if this country wasn’t run on the system of advancement because of who you know,” Stephen said with annoyance.
“What’s happened?” Michael persisted.
Stephen shrugged, “The letter is from Peters; it seems that Kersal has friends in high places after all. He should be swinging for what he’s been doing, but there is an appeal being submitted by the Duke of Lingston, which means he will win. Who ever heard of someone hanging when a Duke steps in to vouch for one?”
“Surely Peters has enough solid evidence to support the case? I’m surprised Kersal has such a high level supporter, he is only a Baron and as far as I was aware did not have any great friends.” Michael guessed correctly that the Bow Street Officer was efficient; he had seen him in action long enough to recognise real skill.
“Peters will have done his job, but obviously Kersal has something on Lingston that guarantees his support. Perhaps he is one of the men with unusual tastes. Laura seemed to suggest that a lot of our contempories have needs that would disgust most of the population,” Stephen said.
Charlotte gasped, immediately drawing the attention of both men. “I’m sorry Charlotte, Halkyn should not have been so graphic in your company,” Michael apologised, cursing himself for not stopping the conversation sooner. He had forgotten that Charlotte was in the room, she had been so quiet throughout the exchange.
“I-It’s not that,” Charlotte stammered. “I remember! I remember everything!”
“What do you remember?” Stephen demanded.
“Everything,” Charlotte said and then her needlework fell to the floor as her hands flew to her cheeks in horror. “Oh my good God, what did I do?”
“Charlotte....” Stephen started, immediately wanting to protect her from suffering any kind of distress, but he was interrupted by Charlotte.
She looked at him in horror. “I remember everything!” she said. “I acted like a hussy, oh my God, I am so sorry.”
“You did not act like a hussy, you did the only thing that was available for you to do,” Stephen said quickly. He noticed Michael watching with interest, but he had to ignore him, he would answer his questions later. “You had to get out of there for your own safety, the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about!” he insisted.
Charlotte covered her eyes. “Everything that happened with Christopher, oh my goodness how could I have been so foolish? I am nothing better than a common doxy.” She stood and looked at Stephen, meeting his gaze with eyes that were filled with a mixture of shame and remorse. “I am truly ashamed and sorry for what I have done, and for involving you. You acted like a gentleman, while I behaved appallingly. Please excuse me.” She left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
“Halkyn? What on earth was all that about?” Michael asked.
“It looks as if I have just been taken for a fool!” Stephen responded, not sure whether to be angry or amused that someone had fooled him so completely.
“You had better explain,” Michael responded.
Stephen told him of the way Charlotte had gained his attention. “I didn’t tell you at the start because there was no need. She was embarrassed enough at having to tell you the rest of it, without adding to it that she had dragged me into a room.”
“I can understand why you both wouldn’t make that common knowledge, but why does that make you a fool?” Michael asked, referring back to Halkyn’s comment.
“Who d
id she mention? The footman that persuaded her to elope and the comments she made were about what she had done with him. She obviously didn’t tell me the whole truth when we met. It sounds as if she went further than words and kisses with him, and yet here I am thinking that she was an innocent!” Stephen said bitterly.
“I’m not convinced that she meant it like that,” Michael defended his young guest. “She doesn’t seem the sort to let someone compromise her. I’m more inclined to believe the story she told us at the start, she’s just shocked at remembering. Don’t forget it was a difficult experience for her, I think you should find her and talk to her.”
“I think I need a drink first!” Stephen said sullenly. The reality was that he did not really want to know if she had been compromised by the footman, because it would destroy him. How could he look at her knowing that she had been with another when all he wanted was for her to be with him? He was being selfish, he acknowledged that, but he wanted Charlotte and his feelings reacted badly at the thought of her with someone else.
Michael was right though, Stephen needed to talk to her and find out the truth once and for all. Although he cursed his foolishness, he also wanted to make sure she was not too upset at remembering. After all this time it must be difficult to be suddenly faced with memories, especially as they were not pleasant ones. He took some moments to drink a brandy and collect himself. He needed to be able to speak to her calmly or he would never find anything out.
Michael left the room, making some excuse. He thought it best to leave Stephen to speak to Charlotte alone. It was going to be a difficult conversation for them both and they did not need his interference.
Stephen pulled the bell and asked the footman to send a message to Miss Webster to join him. He waited, trying to remain calm, when his insides were churning. He started to pace the room, but was interrupted when the footman returned to say that Miss Webster had left the house over half an hour ago.
An Inconvenient Trilogy - Three Regency Romances: Inconvenient Ward, Wife, Companion - all published separately on Kindle and paperback Page 40