by Jo Beverley
Unable to swallow, Charlotte choked on the bite of squash she had just placed in her mouth. Covering her lips with her linen napkin, she began to cough hysterically. Engaged? Gavin is engaged? He is getting married? Her coughing increased, growing louder and more violent. She could not stop.
Concerned for her daughter, Elizabeth cried, “Oh my goodness, Charlotte!”
Gavin, who was seated beside her, sprang from his chair and began patting her back. Charlotte continued to fight the terrible coughing spasm and the entire meal came to an abrupt standstill.
“Give her some water!” Alec exclaimed from the other side of the table.
As the coughing fit began to subside somewhat, Charlotte gratefully sipped the water from the crystal goblet that Gavin held to her lips. She gasped and sputtered, her eyes tearing.
“Are you all right, Charlotte?” Gavin asked, his hand still on her back. With one knee on the floor beside her chair, he stroked her with infinite tenderness, his hand moving up and down her back in a soothing motion.
She nodded as the need to cough continued to weaken.
Gavin urged, “Take another sip.”
She obeyed his command and drank from the glass he still held for her.
“Better now?”
“Yes, thank you,” she finally managed to utter, with another nod of her head.
“Take a deep breath.”
She inhaled with a shaky breath and the action seemed to calm her aching throat.
He still rubbed her back, his hand touching her possessively. “Are you sure you are all right now?” he asked, his voice soft and full of tenderness.
She sniffled a little, feeling foolish for her ridiculous display. His hazel eyes were intent on her. “I’m fine now, Gavin. Thank you.”
He set down the goblet and touched his hand to her cheek, gently brushing a tendril of hair from her eyes. “You must take more care, Charlotte. You gave me a terrible fright.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. How had he the ability to both calm and excite her with the merest touch?
“Ahem.” Alexander Forsythe cleared his throat with a pointed significance.
Charlotte looked up then and her eyes grew wide. Their mouths agape, her parents and her brother were staring at her in amazement. And at Gavin. Who was kneeling on the floor beside her chair and touching her rather intimately. For a moment it had seemed that there were only the two of them in their own little world. She now cringed at the sight of her family.
Slowly and with great care, Gavin removed his hands from her. Without a word he rose to his feet and sat back in his chair. He picked up his linen napkin and placed it in his lap.
An awkward silence fell over the table.
Mortified not only by her own behavior, but by the fact that her family had witnessed the affectionate exchange between her and Gavin, Charlotte avoided the peculiar looks her mother was sending in her direction. She could not face her stepfather or Alec either. She kept her eyes on the dish of barely touched food in front of her. The evening was interminable.
“Now that Charlotte has recovered, shall we finish our meal?” her stepfather suggested, breaking the tense silence.
They resumed eating, although Charlotte could not take a single bite and allowed the butler to remove her plate.
After a sharp look at her daughter, Elizabeth turned her eyes to Gavin. “I believe you were telling us of your engagement, Lord Langdon?”
Charlotte wished with all her might that her mother would close her mouth and cease her infernal questions to Gavin.
“I am not officially engaged yet,” Gavin explained, his lips forming a tight line. “I merely agreed to marry the woman my father thinks would be a good match. Her family’s estate is adjacent to ours and we could merge the two properties.”
“Again, very commendable,” Alexander Forsythe declared. “You have a good head on your shoulders, young Langdon.”
Charlotte could not believe her stepfather was speaking of Gavin. At least not the Gavin she knew in Spain. She doubted her stepfather would applaud Gavin so heartily if he knew of his affair with Charlotte!
“Yes, but what of the English woman you fell in love with in Spain?” Elizabeth questioned, her eyes moving sharply between Charlotte and Gavin.
A sudden wave of nausea swept over Charlotte. She wondered if she looked as green as she felt.
Gavin paused before answering. “It’s quite an unfortunate story, you see. The woman broke my heart. She left the country without saying good-bye. I have not seen her since.”
“Oh, how tragic!” Elizabeth said in a clipped tone. “But you’re not going to marry the other girl, are you?”
Charlotte definitely wanted to crawl under the table.
“My father would like for me to,” Gavin stated simply.
“Do you see how well the boy obeys his father, Alec?” Alexander’s teasing voice lightened the mood.
“Really, Gavin, you must stop showing me up in front of my father!” Alec said with a laugh. “Soon he will be choosing a bride for me!”
“Where did you say you were staying in Spain this summer, Lord Langdon?” Elizabeth asked.
“In the south of Spain, near a town called Málaga.”
“Charlotte,” Elizabeth eyed her daughter with avid interest, “isn’t that where you stayed with Aunt Louisa?”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“How funny that you were both in the same place at the same time!” Elizabeth again looked pointedly between her daughter and her son’s friend.
“Yes, it’s a very small world,” Gavin said with charming ease, flashing a smile that revealed his distracting dimple.
“Let’s adjourn to the study for some brandy, shall we?” Alexander stood, signaling the end of the interminable meal.
Charlotte would have held a parade in her stepfather’s honor so thrilled was she to be released from the table.
“Yes, why don’t you gentlemen enjoy your cigars?” Elizabeth stated. “We shall join you later.”
Gavin did not glance in Charlotte’s direction as he left the room silently with her stepfather and brother. The minute they were gone, Charlotte rose from her chair.
“Sit down, Charlotte,” Elizabeth commanded softly.
Slowly she sank back into her seat. The silence between them was palpable.
Her mother folded her elegant hands on the table in front of her. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
Charlotte swallowed. “No.”
Elizabeth paused for a moment and tilted her blond head to the side. “I have eyes, you know. You have acted strangely since the moment that young man entered the house. And your behavior this evening—”
“Mother, I’m sorry for how I’ve acted during supper. It’s just that …” Charlotte could not bring herself to finish.
Elizabeth waited patiently for her daughter to continue. When it was clear Charlotte would not, her mother said, “It is fairly obvious that you and Lord Langdon already know each other. Did something happen between the two of you in Spain?”
“I would rather not discuss it at present.”
A rather long silence ensued as her mother pondered her options. Charlotte wished herself anywhere but where she was.
“Very well.” Elizabeth sighed in resignation, clearly irritated. “But we will discuss it at some point, I promise you that.”
“Yes, Mother.” Charlotte left the dining room on unsteady legs and somehow made her way slowly up the stairs.
Her mother knew. Trepidation filled her heart. She would be forced to disclose everything. Yet would that be so terrible? To finally bare her soul? She had never told anyone what had happened between her and Gavin. Not even Aunt Louisa, although her aunt suspected something. Charlotte had fled Spain and buried all her tumultuous and intense feelings for Gavin that day for she did not know what else to do with them.
Now those feelings seemed determined to overwhelm her, to bury her.
On t
he verge of tears once again, she entered her pretty bedroom and closed the door behind her in relief. Then she almost jumped out of her skin.
“Gavin!”
“I didn’t mean to startle you so,” he apologized hurriedly.
“I just wanted to see you. Talk to you.” He stepped toward her and drew her into his arms. “Are you all right?”
Unable to resist, she instinctively curled her body into his. The warmth of him soothed her agitated state of mind and she breathed deeply of his familiar scent. He was being too nice to her and she did not deserve it. Not after what she’d done. Hot tears ran down her cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” she cried.
“I don’t know,” he whispered into her hair. “Charlotte, Charlotte, don’t cry.”
“You must leave.” If he left her house right away, she could pick up the pieces of her life and move on. No one would know and she could bury those feelings again. She could forget he had returned. She could forget she wanted him so much. Couldn’t she? Had she ever truly forgotten him? “If you don’t leave, everyone is going to find out.”
He asked softly, “About us?”
She shoved away from him, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t you have a fiancée to go back to?” Her voice was sharper than she intended it to be.
“Don’t make this my fault,” he ground out.
“Everything was fine until you came here!”
“Was it?” he challenged her. “Was running away from me the right thing to do?”
“I didn’t run away from you.” Her voice was weak and her protest sounded feeble even to her own ears.
“Didn’t you?”
“I don’t even know who you are anymore!” she burst out. “Lord Langdon? Who is that? Who is this responsible person who attends Cambridge and does everything his father wishes? Were you simply lying to me the entire time?”
His jaw tightened. “Is that what you think? That I lied to you?”
She glared at him.
“Charlotte?”
“If you won’t leave my house, at least have the decency to leave my room.” Her hand trembled as she reached for the door.
“I will leave you then.” Gavin gave her a cold look before he walked from the room.
Chapter 12
The next afternoon Charlotte sat curled up on a divan in the sunroom, attempting to lose herself in Wuthering Heights, which, as one of her favorite novels, usually captured her attention. But she had read the same page at least twenty times and had not moved on. Her mind was a million miles away.
All she could think of was Gavin Ellsworth.
She had barely slept all night, tossing and turning. And crying. Gavin had kissed her and seemed quite sincere in his concern during her choking fit at the table. He had acted hurt that she had left him in Spain and genuinely wished to discuss what happened. Had he truly cared for her? Was he not the rogue she had thought he was? This thought tortured her. As a consequence of her fitful and anguished night, she had slept through breakfast and by the time she had dressed and ventured downstairs, she had learned that Gavin and Alec had already gone out for the day but would be returning for supper. So he had not left to go back to school yet. Relieved she did not have to face him for a while longer, she had hidden in the sunroom, but not before her mother had reminded her that they needed to have a little talk later. Charlotte closed her eyes tight at the prospect.
“There’s a package for you, Miss Charlotte,” Roberts, the butler, announced as he entered the sunroom. “It just arrived.”
“There is?” she said in surprise. “Where is it?”
“Your mother had it carried into the study. It’s a rather large box. She asks that you join her while one of the footmen opens it for you.”
A large box had arrived for her? How odd! “Thank you, Roberts.”
By the time she reached the study, Elizabeth had already instructed the young footman to pry the wooden planks of the crate apart. The inside of the box was packed with padding.
“My goodness, Charlotte!” her mother exclaimed. “Whoever would send you such a large package?”
“I have no idea,” Charlotte responded, equally intrigued.
“There was a letter with it addressed to you.” Her mother gave Charlotte an envelope addressed with an unfamiliar hand.
Curious, she broke the seal and removed the letter within. In an instant her heart began racing as she read the sprawling script with a mounting sense of dread. Charlotte now knew exactly what was in that large crate. And there was nothing she could do at this point to prevent her mother from seeing it.
“Mother … There’s something I need to explain to you,” she began hesitantly.
Elizabeth was already standing over the crate as the burly footman lifted the enormously framed portrait from within and placed it on the floor, propped against the wall near the mantel.
Elizabeth’s shocked gasp echoed Charlotte’s own.
Without needing to be told, the footman discreetly left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Good God in heaven …” her mother whispered, placing her hand over her heart.
Speechless, Charlotte stood in awe at the portrait that Doña Yvonne Bautista-Martín had painted of her while she was in Spain.
It was the most beautiful painting she had ever seen.
The pastel colors illuminating the dawn light bathed the scene in an ethereal glow, setting the figures of the goddess and god depicted within to be almost otherworldly in their perfection. Every detail was exquisite. The carefully draped silk seemed to flow like liquid silver over their almost naked bodies, clinging to every curve of their bare skin. Her blond hair glistened in golden waves around them. And the pose! The intimate positioning of their glorious bodies made it difficult to tell where the female form ended and the male began, so close were their arms and legs intertwined.
Charlotte barely recognized herself as the woman in the painting, so lovely was the rendering. How blissful and radiant the expression on her face! Had she truly looked that euphoric? And Gavin! How had Doña Yvonne managed to capture the absolute essence of his masculine features, his perfect aquiline nose and strong chin? His tawny blond hair glowed on his head. There was an amorous gleam in his hazel eyes and a hint of his devilish dimple at the corner of his sensuous mouth, which was pressed seductively against her alabaster cheek. The taut, sculpted muscles in his upper arms held her with such assured possession and his hand gently cupped the underside of her breast. The very strength and handsomeness of him came alive and leapt from the canvas.
But it was the two of them together … This was a man and woman passionately in love with each other portrayed with elegance, grace, and mystic splendor.
For days Charlotte had posed for that painting but never had she seen what she and Gavin looked like together from this point of view. Had it been so obvious to everyone else? Never had she suspected …
The effect was astonishing. She remained motionless and speechless before the painting. The portrait so as- tounded her that she forgot to feel embarrassed by the romantic nature of it. Charlotte was the woman in the painting and Doña Yvonne had managed to capture her true essence. When Charlotte had been that woman, it was the happiest she had ever been. It suddenly dawned on her that the woman in the painting was the real Charlotte.
“Good God in heaven, Charlotte!” her mother echoed once again. “What on earth did you do in Spain?”
“I posed for a painting …” she offered weakly.
“Yes, I see that! But this?” Elizabeth cried, scandalized. She gestured angrily to the painting. “This is indecent, Charlotte!”
Charlotte turned to face her mother. “You are only saying that because I am in the painting.”
The painting was beautiful. That point could not be disputed. It was a true work of art. Anyone with eyes would have to agree.
“Yes! My daughter is undressed with an equally unclothed man!” Elizabeth looked distraught
enough to faint. “And that young man is now a guest in my house! Lord Langdon! What is the meaning of this? What if your brothers see this?”
The thought of Adam, Addison, Allen, or Andrew seeing this painting made her very uneasy. She wasn’t comfortable having her mother see it right now, let alone her stepfather or Alec. But it was simply because it was her. Her emotions and her body were on display for all to observe, yet the portrait was not in bad taste or offensive in any way. If it had been a pair of strangers in the scene instead of her and Gavin, she would still find it artistically appealing. Elizabeth would most likely hang it in the gallery. Or in the main parlor. But it was probably not the best time to bring up that point to her mother right now.
“What possessed you to do such a thing, Charlotte? And where was Louisa while this scandalous picture was painted? How could she have allowed something like this to happen?”
“Aunt Louisa did not know that Doña Yvonne was painting us in that way, so please do not blame her.” Charlotte defended her aunt instinctively.
“It was her responsibility to know about it! You were under her care!” Elizabeth exclaimed, righteous anger shaking her voice. “I knew we never should have let you go with her!”
“Let me go?” Charlotte burst out. “You sent me away!”
Her mother came up short and looked at her oddly. “Is that what you think, Charlotte?” Her face softened, as well as her tone. “That I sent you away?”
“Yes.” She blinked back the tears that suddenly threatened.
“I thought that you wished to go,” Elizabeth said in confusion. “That you were tired of another unsuccessful Season and wanted a change of scenery, a bit of a break from the business of finding a husband.”
“I did … I just thought … you were weary of me and too busy with the boys …” Charlotte’s voice trailed off.
Her mother put her arms around Charlotte’s shoulders. Together they sat on the leather sofa. “Oh, Charlotte. I am very busy with the boys and I am quite weary with your stubbornness at not choosing a husband from an array of suitable gentlemen, but I would never send you away from home because of that. I am sorry if I ever made you feel that you were not wanted. I love you, darling.”