Lady Charlotte's Marquess (The heir and a spare Book 2)

by Fiona Miers

  “Oh, did you feel that?” Charlotte grabbed his hand and pushed it in even harder.

  Archie felt the armor around his heart shatter as his heart swelled with love for this woman who had dragged him, kicking and screaming, into the sunshine.

  “I love you,” he whispered pulling her face to his for a kiss that had his body aching for her.

  “Come to bed,” Charlotte whispered against Archie’s lips, standing up and pulling him with her.

  Archie fought the urge to throw his wife over his shoulder and run up the stairs. Only her belly stopped him.

  “Lead the way my lady,” he bowed with a cheeky smile.

  They made it to London the week later.

  ****

  London had never looked brighter to Charlotte. She was married, with child and loved beyond comparison. What else could make her life better? Well perhaps, not being shunned by people who had known her, her whole life would be a good start. She had never been so disgusted with the ton’s behavior before.

  They had arrived in London a few days before and Charlotte had instantly set out to order new gowns for her expanding figure. She had actually been asked to come back at a later time when the shop was closed so that people wouldn’t know that she frequented that modiste. Charlotte had stormed out, found a small but beautiful shop with an English modiste pretending to be French.

  “I am the new Countess of Tother,” she announced to the modiste. “Would you like my business?”

  The young lady had blinked and curtseyed.

  “Indeed, I would your ladyship. Can I get you a cup of tea?”

  Charlotte had had a little cry, to be perfectly honest and then proceeded to order more gowns than she could wear in a season. She had money and she was beautiful. She would have the best of everything.

  Driving home in her carriage she started to realize that Archie had been right to worry about society’s reaction to them. She had known, of course what might happen, but to be affronted by a shop lady was just too much.

  She pasted a bright smile on her face and swept into her new town house.

  “Good day, my lady,” their ancient butler bowed deeply. Charlotte blushed brightly. She still hadn’t become accustomed to seeing the man who knew exactly when and where she had first made love to Archie. The poor man looked just as uncomfortable every time he saw her but Charlotte wouldn’t have changed him for the world. He ran a tight ship and he had saved her several times from embarrassing or insulting visitors.

  “Is his lordship in the study?” Charlotte asked, pulling off her redingote and gloves and handing them to a waiting footman.

  “Yes. Mister Rupert is with him.”

  The old butler’s mouth turned down slightly and Charlotte suppressed a smile. The butler was a stickler for tradition and disapproved of Rupert’s flagrant disrespect for drinking hours and disrespect towards married women. Rupert had visited on their first day in London and had given Charlotte a loud smacking kiss on the mouth in congratulations and the poor butler had almost expired on the spot. Truth be told, Archie hadn’t been too impressed either. But Charlotte knew Rupert’s weakness now and she would stop the rake in his tracks.

  “Thank you, Hill,” she said, gliding up to the door of the study.

  She heard two male voices within and a laugh she recognized as her husband’s. It was wonderful to hear him so happy.

  She knocked once and pushed open the heavy door.

  Both gentlemen jumped to their feet on her entry and Rupert gave her a sly smile and looked at Archie.

  “Countess,” Rupert greeted her, stepping forward to touch her, in goodness knows what way.

  Instead of moving towards him Charlotte flattened her palms on her belly and pulled the dress taut around the obvious bump.

  “Hello Rupert,” she greeted him with a serene, Madonna like smile.

  Rupert stopped in his tracks, his eyes falling to her belly. He flushed noticeably red and straightened to his very tall height.

  “You are looking very well my dear,” Archie said as he walked forward and greeted her with a bow and a kiss to her outstretched fingers. For good measure, he ran his hand possessively over his growing child and they both heard Rupert’s throat gurgle.

  “I’ve been shopping,” Charlotte announced with the air of someone very important.

  “Oh no,” Archie groaned dramatically. “Please tell me there is enough money left to pay the servants.”

  Charlotte just laughed and sat down.

  Archie looked at Rupert with alarm but Rupert only laughed.

  “You’re lucky you don’t have any sisters.”

  Rupert had three sisters and more than ten nieces. He was surrounded by women.

  “I found a new dressmaker that is making everything I need for the season and she also recommended a baby shop I’m going to visit tomorrow.”

  “That sounds great, love.” Archie said absently, moving back to his chair. “New dressmaker? I thought you only wanted to go to that French modiste on Bond Street. You’ve been waiting for three days to see her.”

  Charlotte flushed, but refused to look away from her husband’s keen stare.

  “That shopkeeper decided I wasn’t important enough to serve on priority, so I found one who wants my business.”

  Archie gave her a startled look and even Rupert looked uncomfortable as he too took his chair.

  “Do you mean to tell me you were denied service because of your new status?”

  “Not at all. She was still happy to make my clothes, but she didn’t want me seen in her presence. So I refused to come back and found someone more than happy to have me patronize their shop.” Charlotte told them both honestly.

  “You were denied access because of me.” Archie choked out.

  Rupert, looking uncomfortable, stood up and bowed.

  “I think I’ll be going Archie; I’ll see you at the Christening on Sunday?” Rupert said, giving Charlotte an apologetic smile. She didn’t blame him for wanting to leave such a conversation.

  “Yes, indeed,” Archie recovered enough to say, the look in his eyes showing his mind was far away.

  Rupert headed for the door but as he opened it, he turned back to say something, “We still love you both,” he said and with that rather shocking statement, he fled.

  Charlotte smiled fondly as the rogue ran for cover.

  “He has a heart of gold somewhere under all that swagger, I’m sure of it.” Charlotte declared, laughing despite herself.

  Archie dropped to his knees in front of her and kissed her tenderly for a moment before pulling away once again to sit in the chair closest to her.

  “Tell me what really happened today. Did they upset you?” Archie asked, holding her hands in a time old gesture of support.

  “I am the daughter of a Duchess and a future Marchioness, Archibald. No one upsets me.” She declared as haughtily as possible. Yet her husband knew her too well.

  “They did,” he declared, sitting down in his chair and pulling her down into his lap.

  “Archie, please don’t be upset. It’s true, I was a little shocked, but it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does!”

  Charlotte gave up and just kissed him. Kissed him until they were both panting and desperate and he made love to her right there, in the study, where it had all began all those months ago.

  ****

  After Charlotte’s traumatic experience of buying a new gown, Archie decided to find out just how bad it was.

  He went to his club the next day, dressed in full mourning, but very fashionable clothes. He was lucky enough to find John instantly and sat down quickly with him. The club was quiet, owing to this time being the end of the season and Archie was grateful. His jumping belly and sweating palms were great indications that he was suddenly feeling not so courageous.

  “Archie,” John greeted him with an enthusiastic handshake and cleared his throat.

  “I saw Charlotte this morning, she is looking wonderful.”r />
  Archie blinked. He hadn’t realized Charlotte had visited her parents alone. He had been too busy with his bank manager this morning to even ask her of her plans.

  “She is.” Archie agreed quietly, his eyes darting to a man in the corner of the room who was giving them black looks.

  “I’m not sure if I should be sitting with you, John.” Archie apologized, beginning to rise.

  John grabbed him by the sleeve and unceremoniously hauled him back down.

  “Archie, you’re not only a best friend, but my brother in law as well. If you should be sitting anywhere, it is here.” John called for whiskey and a footman scurried over with two.

  Archie picked his up and drank it in one gulp, the burn making him gasp and hiss.

  John chuckled and called for more.

  “Don’t tell me married life isn’t as good as Oliver makes it out to be.” John joked, watching Archie as he gulped down more whiskey.

  Archie almost choked, and put his glass back down with a hurry.

  “No, Charlotte’s wonderful.” Archie answered quietly, twirling his glass between his palms and not looking up as the liquid warmth began to help his cold belly.

  John cleared his throat meaningfully and Archie dragged his eyes up.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Turner.” An older gentleman said to Archie, his head held high, a walking stick gripped in one hand. Archie recognized the man as an old friend of his father’s.

  “I have every right to be here, Sir,” Archie replied respectfully. He stood and bowed to the older man. He wasn’t being shown any manners, but he hadn’t forgotten his.

  “Your brother was a disgrace.” The old man snarled, obviously eager to get to the crux of the matter.

  Archie nodded his head once in agreement. He couldn’t help feeling the hypocrisy of the situation. The men in this room were the very worst whore mongering rogues and yet his brother was a disgrace?

  “I’m going to ask the club to bar your admittance.” The older man snarled now, his lip quivering in his anger. Several of the older men looked amongst themselves. Some looked resolute, ready to back him up, others looked embarrassed and worried.

  “You must do what you must do,” Archie declared, comfortable in his ostracism.

  John stood up next to him.

  “Then you can ask for mine too, because the day the future Marquess of Hunting is barred from this club, is the day I have no wish to be a part of this club.”

  The reminder of who Archie would be in the future seemed to deflate some of the older man’s anger and John’s presence took care of the rest.

  John threw some money down onto the table and gave Archie a look that said that it was time to leave.

  They gathered their coats and left without speaking.

  As they walked back towards their town houses Archie gathered his courage and spoke to his friend. “Thank you John, but you don’t need to lose your position for me.”

  John harrumphed and kept walking. He was mumbling under his breath and Archie couldn’t help the slightly hysterical laugh that escaped.

  “What’s so funny,” John asked, scowling at him as they made their way along the street.

  “Nothing, nothing at all. It’s just that, after ten years of waiting for the worst to happen, it has. And you have stood by me.”

  John flushed lightly, his handsome face pinkening in a way Archie had never seen it.

  “Archie, you’re not your brother. You have proved that a hundred times over the last ten years.”

  “But the ton doesn’t recognize that.” Archie pointed out.

  “Blast the ton,” John muttered, walking even faster and kicking at the cobblestones with his polished black boots.

  Archie walked along the road next to his brother-in-law and wondered why he wasn’t angrier. He should be, after all. He’d lost everything he’d once valued. The respect of his peers and his place in society.

  But the warmth of the sunshine on his face and John beside him gave him a greater sense of self-worth than he’d ever had, and that was something he must ponder on for a while.

  ****

  Archie got home to the message that his wife was feeling ill. He rushed straight to their room to find her not there. On enquiry, he found the countess was asleep in her own bed. Her own bed! They hadn’t slept apart in almost four months and tonight she had decided they would?

  Archie stood at the door that linked their room and paused with his hand on the knob. How could he go to her when he had been asked not to do so? Their marriage was strange in that she had always come to his bed, not he to hers. He knew that all husbands across the English aristocracy had separate bedrooms and only visited their wives when required. It had never been that way for them and it felt horrible now. Archie moved back to his lonely bed and climbed, naked, into it. He had slept in this bed alone for more than ten years, and yet tonight it felt as cold and as empty as a Scottish Loch. Archie pulled the blankets around him tighter and shivered for effect.

  What could he do? Perhaps Charlotte really wasn’t well? And if so, why didn’t she tell him so herself, or at least allow him to hold her. It was true, they had never spent a night in each other’s arms without making love, or some variation. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t control himself. Perhaps that was it? Perhaps she was sore, or tired, and was scared to rebuff him in bed? If that was so, he would strive to be a more considerate husband. Perhaps he had worn her out the previous night? He cringed at the memory. Or this morning when he had made love to her again? He had known that the honeymoon would not last, he had just foolishly believed that she had been as happy as he.

  The next morning, Archie arose early and set out for a ride. He rarely rode in London, but he needed to get out into the fresh air today. He rode around the parks and over as many hills as he could find. When the horse was tired, Archie headed home and went straight to his study. He attacked all the estate business he had put off and tried very hard not to think about what he would say to his wife later that day.

  ****

  That evening, dinner was a stilted affair. Neither person knew what to say. The only conversation went as following.

  “Are you feeling better today Charlotte?”

  “I am, thank you, Archie,” she said and then silence again.

  Charlotte retired to her bed and sat up waiting for her husband. She was testing him again. She had never slept in her own bed before yesterday and yet Archie didn’t seem annoyed by the sudden change. Snuffing out her candle finally, she burrowed down into her bed with a small sob. Why wouldn’t he fight for her? Charlotte had told her own mother to ‘go to hell’ and yet Archie wouldn’t even open a door. She buried her head into her pillow and started crying.

  Minutes later, Archie thrust open the door and walked straight into her room. He was carrying a candle and wearing a night shirt. Charlotte looked up at his entrance and blinked. Archie put the candle down on his side of the bed and put his hand on the covers. He didn’t make any move to slide into the bed, just quirked an eyebrow.

  Relief and love overflowed within her. “Oh Archie,” she sobbed, holding out her arms for him.

  Archie pulled back the covers and climbed in next to her. He sat up against the pillows and pulled Charlotte into his strong arms. She burst into a fresh round of tears and sobbed on his chest. Archie held her whilst she cried and cried, crooning and stroking her hair.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

  “I just want you to love me, nothing else matters...” Charlotte burst out into hysterical sobs. All she wanted was her husband’s love. Why had she felt the need to test him?

  Archie lay back against the pillows and pulled Charlotte to him. She was no longer sobbing, but she still clung to him in desperation.

  “I love you, Charlotte I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you.”

  She shook her head against him, wiping at her dripping nose and eyes. “No, no, please don’t be sorry. That’s what I didn’t want.”
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  Archie sighed and held her tighter. “Just sleep, my love.”

  Charlotte fell asleep almost instantly, the exhaustion of the previous day’s emotional upheaval too much for her. Archie loved her and that was all that mattered.

  ****

  The following Sunday was David’s Christening. Archie wore half mourning and Charlotte wore a beautiful new pale blue dress from her new dressmaker. They had made love all morning and were both in high spirits.

  “I cannot believe you are showing your face here.”

  Charlotte and Archie turned around to find a richly dressed older lady staring at them.

  “We were invited,” Archie calmly replied. He didn’t even know the woman in front of him. How could he have offended her?

  “Then you should have refused. You shouldn’t be allowed to enter society after what your brother did.”

  Archie felt his stomach drop but took strength in the solid warmth next to him.

  “My brother has paid for his crimes my lady, unlike most men of the ton. Don’t you agree that death was payment enough?”

  “Yes I do actually, but what about you?” The old woman snapped again.

  “Me?” Archie let his eyebrows rise comically high on his forehead.

  “Yes, how dare you marry Lady Charlotte? She could have married anyone she wanted, and you chose to drag her into a family that is diseased. You could give it to her or her child.”

  The lady eyed Charlotte’s waistline critically and smiled smugly.

  “And that is not a three-month belly. So either you married her when she was with child by someone else, or you are as bad as your brother.” The old woman, who in her day would have been very handsome, was smiling nastily now.

  Archie felt anger, hurt and embarrassment in equal quantities flood his belly and was finding it hard to work out which was strongest. Heat flooded over his face and chest making it hard to breathe.

  But before he could open his mouth to answer the old battleaxe, he felt Charlotte’s hand on his arm, squeezing tightly.

  “I married Archie because I love him.” She declared hotly, her sincerity ringing out clearly. “His poor brother was unlucky, but was not unusual in his habits as I’m sure you know. Also, I wouldn’t be casting stones about the size of my belly. Your own daughter had a six-month babe if my memory serves, and I can guarantee you, at least I know who the father is.”