One Week to Wed

by Laurie Benson

  The ease with which he was comporting himself, as if this was the most natural thing in the world, was pushing any sense of self-consciousness from her mind. She wanted to give him as much pleasure as he had been giving her and moved his hand away so she could take up the task.

  Andrew dropped back on to his coat. ‘Bloody hell,’ he groaned.

  He was so hard in her palm. Was there any part of his body that was soft? If so, she hadn’t found it yet. Unless it was his lips.

  Leaning over, she placed her mouth above his. ‘Tell me you want me to kiss you.’ The air from her breath blew into his mouth, past his parted lips.

  ‘Kiss me,’ he groaned.

  The kiss was deep and filled with all the passion inside her. The buckskin of his trousers and the leather of his boots rubbed against her legs as he rolled them over so he was on top of her, propped on his elbows. When they finally broke apart, he looked into her eyes and her heart flipped over in response.

  ‘I want you, Charlotte, but I will stop if you tell me.’

  She could not lie to herself. She wanted him. She wanted to feel all the pleasure she knew he could give her and she wanted to feel, one last time, that close to a man. Instead of voicing her reply, she wrapped her legs around his.

  He brushed the tip of his nose gently against hers. ‘I will pull out before I come, but in order to do that, I need to set the pace.’ There wouldn’t be a child. He was telling her he would make certain of it, but he needn’t worry.

  This was the first and only time she would have to admit that out loud to a man whom she was beginning to care about. The words felt stuck in her throat. ‘There is no need. I am unable to conceive.’

  ‘You’re certain?’

  She nodded. ‘I was married for years and I never did. And my widowed sister didn’t either. It must be something in my family.’

  He brushed the hair away from her forehead and kissed it. ‘You’re perfect, whether you can conceive or not. Never let anyone make you feel that you are less than that.’

  If she had any doubts about wanting this kind man inside her before, she had none now. This time their kiss was soft and gentle. There was no urgency. Fireworks continued to explode across the valley as he shifted his hips and slowly entered her.

  That feeling of being filled by him was so amazing, she closed her eyes to focus on every bit of the friction pushing against her. As if he was giving her body time to adjust to him, he didn’t move his hips, until she raked her nails gently across his lower back. It was then that he slid out of her and pushed himself into her again.

  With fluttered lashes, she opened her eyes and caught a sweet smile on his lips. A slow but forceful rhythm was forming between the two of them and she held on to the curves of his shoulders to ground her. She felt secure and cherished in his arms and wished this moment could go on for ever.

  Chapter Ten

  Staring into Charlotte’s eyes as he thrust inside her as deeply as he could was having an odd effect on Andrew. From the moment he first saw her, he had wanted her. But after spending today with her, his need for her was more than physical.

  He would be leaving soon. In all likelihood, he would never see Charlotte again.

  Lowering his body, he carefully rested his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her. If only they could have done this the proper way—in a proper bed—able to completely undress. How he wanted to see her—all of her. But no matter how secluded they were up on this hill, it was still better to be somewhat clothed.

  Charlotte’s eyes held a fire and a passion, and she was so snug around him it was driving him mad. He wanted this to go on for ever, but just the feel of being inside her told him he would be lucky if this went on five more minutes. A bead of sweat slipped down his chest as he rocked his hips faster. Digging her nails into his shoulders, she let out a small cry. He wanted to give her so much pleasure. Knowing he would never get the chance to again was making his chest ache.

  ‘Andrew...’

  It was the first time Charlotte had referred to him in such an intimate way. She called out to him in a whispered plea. He had never liked the sound of his name more. Gently, he kissed her, as she met him thrust for thrust. He was about to explode, but he would not come until she did—and he was determined to make her scream.

  Within a few more moments, he got his wish. A sensual guttural groan passed her clenched teeth. It was beautiful and raw—something he would not easily forget.

  She grabbed the back of his head, pulling him down for a heady kiss. It was too much. She was too much. His head fell back as a sound tore through him that was close to her own, only much deeper.

  They were both breathing hard as he snuggled his forehead into her neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in the fragrance she wore. The warmth of her fingertips felt wonderful as she stroked his lower back under his shirt. Andrew had never come inside a woman before—not without French letters. Now a part of each of them was mingled together, scenting the air. This entire experience with Charlotte had been a revelation.

  He lifted himself up on his elbows and looked down at her. A sad, bittersweet smile was curving those full lips that he found so tempting. He kissed them softly, trying to memorise her taste.

  She traced her finger down the slope of his nose, over the bump where it had been broken, and outlined his lips, as if she, too, were trying to memorise him for some time in the future when she might recall this night. ‘Thank you for not embarrassing me when I became rather...rather...vocal.’

  It was distinctly possible he had smiled more in the short time he had been with her than he had in the past year of his life. He hoped she wasn’t regretting what they had done. He certainly wasn’t. ‘Charlotte, ever since we met I think you have been vocal...in one way or another.’ It felt as if he would remember her when he was old, sitting by a fire, sipping what he hoped to be rather exceptional brandy. He knew he had to leave her, but he wished they had more time. The thought of saying goodbye to her was making his chest hurt. Was it possible to miss someone even before they were gone?

  This was not good—not good at all. He was leaving in seven days. If he felt this way now, how hard would it be to leave her five days from now—or six? He was a man who didn’t form attachments. He was a man who had secrets in his life and couldn’t afford distractions. Distractions could be deadly. And Charlotte deserved a much better man than he was.

  Suddenly, he pushed himself up, startling her.

  ‘I should escort you home. I fear Mrs Knightly will be waiting up for me to make certain no harm has come to you. If I arrive back there at sunrise, we will have much to answer for.’

  He couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her eyes—the sadness he’d put there by getting too close, knowing they had no future together. She lived in the country. He lived in London. She was a respectable widow and he was an agent of the Crown. Considering all of it was making his chest hurt more.

  He held his hand out and helped her up. Items from their once-proper attire were scattered around them in the grass.

  ‘I’m missing a bonnet and gloves,’ Charlotte stated, flattening her skirts.

  ‘Your bonnet is over there and I have found one glove.’

  ‘I have your gloves here and—’ she reached over and picked his waistcoat off the grass ‘—here is your waistcoat.’ She brushed it off and held it out to him.

  ‘There, that’s my cravat and your other glove. Is that all of it?’

  ‘Aside from pins from my hair which we will never find, I believe we have all the ingredients to make ourselves respectable. I’ll just stuff my hair into my bonnet. Thankfully, it’s dark.’

  She was becoming very practical about their passionate encounter, which made him smile. He really would miss her.

  They managed to find her prize arrow after she stated quite firmly she would not be leaving that hill without it and mad
e their way slowly through the woods hand in hand towards her home. Eventually, they reached a clearing. Ahead of them was a large field of grass and wildflowers, probably used for grazing. Without the cover of the tree branches above to block some of the moonlight, the field appeared inordinately bright, making it easy to see the lines in the bark of a fallen nearby tree. They both stood at the edge of the wood as if neither wanted to take their first step into the light.

  Charlotte pointed to a clump of trees across the field. ‘My home is just on the other side of those trees.’

  This was it. This was the end. For both their sakes he couldn’t see her any more. He would leave tomorrow.

  He tugged her hand to stop her progress. ‘I want to kiss you one last time in the woods. In these woods.’

  She took a step closer and, without a word, pulled his head down for a long drawn-out kiss before slowly pulling away. On their way across the field neither of them spoke, as if the enormity of what they had done together was now settling in. He tried to steal a glimpse at her face to try to gauge what was going through her mind now that they were reaching her home, but he couldn’t see past the brim of her bonnet.

  As they crossed the road to her house, she broke the silence stretching between them. ‘You may borrow one of my horses to return to Knightly Hall. I will have my groom fetch it tomorrow. Turn left out of my drive and follow the road until you reach the church. At the church, turn a left on to that road. It will eventually take you to the Knightlys’ estate. You will have to ride for a number of miles, but it is very direct so you should have no trouble finding your way.’

  She lived in a pale stone house of a respectable size, with a walled garden off to the side. Rose bushes and neatly trimmed privet hedges adorned the front garden. The stable was behind the house and she took him directly there so he could saddle up one of her four horses.

  The dirt from her drive drifted on to his boots as they left the stable, and he led the horse to the edge of the road. It was time to return to Knightly Hall, but all he wanted to do was to carry her inside and take her again. But her intent was clear when she took a step back, giving him room to mount the chestnut stallion. This was the horse of a soldier and he assumed it had once belonged to her husband.

  He hadn’t asked her about him. He knew she had worn mourning clothes for him for four years. That was all he had needed to know about the man. But now, as he was getting ready to leave for ever, he wondered what kind of man had stirred that kind of love and loyalty in her.

  ‘Would you like me to walk you to your door?’ He was having the hardest time riding away.

  ‘No, thank you. You should go before sunrise.’ She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something more, but then closed it and gave him a bittersweet smile. It was apparent she was trying to remain composed and pleasant with their parting, but he sensed she was feeling melancholy as acutely as he was. And she didn’t even know he had decided to leave tomorrow. She was stirring feelings inside him that needed to be locked away. She was no good for him or for the life he led. And he certainly was no good for her.

  Placing his foot in the stirrup, he mounted the horse and rubbed his hand on the shiny coat of its neck. ‘Goodnight, Charlotte.’

  She looked down at the arrow clutched in her hand and back up at him. ‘Goodnight, Andrew.’

  With a tip of his hat, he kicked the horse into a gallop and didn’t look back.

  * * *

  Charlotte entered her house on shaky legs. By the time she closed the door behind her and made it up to her bedchamber, she was a sobbing mess. She couldn’t see him again. Even if he was only going to stay for another week, she needed to avoid him. In her head, she knew she should have never done what she did with him. She tried to tell herself it was all about passion. That his touch had left her unable to think clearly. But that wasn’t entirely true and she hated admitting that to herself.

  She liked him. She genuinely liked him and the thought that he’d soon be back in London and she would never see him again made her miserable. There was this driving need to feel close to him and to hold on to the feeling that he might care for her. His adventurous nature called to something inside her. It reminded her of a time long ago when she would take pleasure in climbing trees with her sisters, racing across the meadows and sneaking upstairs to the servants’ floor just to say they could without getting caught.

  That side of her had been buried when she’d become a wife. Domestic responsibilities demanded it. One couldn’t be the respectable wife of an Army officer and behave like a hoyden. The arrow was still clutched tight in her hands. It didn’t feel as though she was a hoyden today. Today she’d felt alive for the first time in ages.

  And that was wrong.

  Andrew had her thinking about things that weren’t possible. He deserved a woman who loved him and one who could give him a house full of children. Her heart belonged to Jonathan. There was no room for anyone else. Not that Andrew wanted more from her than what she gave him tonight.

  Jonathan’s signet ring thumped at her chest when she moved. How could she have betrayed her husband like that? She loved him. She always had. Never could she have imagined she would have given herself to anyone else. And yet, with Andrew, it had felt so right.

  Another sob escaped her lips. Her emotions were in a jumble. What happened with Andrew tonight was over and she would make certain it never happened again. A crushing sadness filled her and she slid down the wall to sit on the floor of her darkened chamber. Her legs were too weak. She mustn’t allow herself to fall for him. She had a respectable life to lead and one that would honour the memory of her husband who had sacrificed his life for her and their country.

  Some day, Andrew would be a vague memory. She would not be able to recall his face or the sound of his voice. Or how his smile made her insides flip. And she prayed there would come a day when she didn’t recall everything they had done together on the hill as fireworks lit the night sky.

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte had successfully avoided Ann’s house for four days. Each day she made a mark in her daily ledger indicating she had managed to find a way to stay apart from Andrew when all the while she was fighting the urge to go there to see him.

  Did he miss her? Had he thought about her? And had he enquired after her from their friends?

  When the slowest four days of her life had finally passed, she thought it safe to visit Ann and Toby. Now she should be able to face him without everyone in Ann’s household realising they had had a tryst. But when she arrived at Ann’s, she was told Andrew had left for London the day after the fair. According to Ann, he needed to return to London on business, but Charlotte suspected he had thought it best not to see her again and had ended his visit with Toby earlier than he intended. And he hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye.

  ‘I hope it was nothing dire,’ she said. Which was a lie, since she wished it was an outside circumstance that had pulled him away so suddenly. It was taking all of her strength to remain composed as her stomach fell with the finality of it all. Thinking she didn’t want to see him again was proving to be very different from surmising he hadn’t wanted to see her again.

  ‘All Toby said was Lord Andrew had urgent business and needed to be back in London. It all seemed rather sudden.’

  ‘He didn’t say what kind of business?’

  Ann shook her head. ‘No, and I didn’t think it was my place to enquire. Lord Andrew was a rather private guest. He didn’t appear comfortable conversing about himself or his family. Our discussions tended towards general polite topics. The most animated I had seen him was when he was talking with you at the fair. Until then, I had the impression he was a rather reserved man.’

  He hadn’t appeared the least bit reserved when he was speaking with Charlotte. In fact, Lord Andrew was anything but reserved with her. Although, now that she thought about it, he hadn’t really
discussed his personal life with her either. She didn’t even know how he spent his time. After she’d practically accused him of being a good-for-nothing wastrel, who could blame him for guarding his privacy. He was gone now...for ever. The less she knew about Andrew, the easier it should be to forget him. At least that was what she hoped.

  ‘I thought you were going to give him a reason to prolong his visit with us,’ Ann said.

  ‘We were simply congenial with one another.’

  ‘Congenial? You liked him, Charlotte. A great deal from what I could see.’

  ‘What you saw was merely polite behaviour.’

  ‘You hugged him.’

  ‘I hit the centre of the target.’

  ‘I haven’t witnessed you do something so inappropriate or express such an unguarded feeling of excitement since we were young. There was something palpable between the two of you. Even Toby remarked on it and he tends to be oblivious to matters such as this.’

  Oh, heavens, could Ann tell what she’d done? Would everyone know her shame? ‘What are you insinuating?’

  ‘I’m insinuating that there was something between the two of you. Some connection that, as much as you want to deny it, was there. You know I believe you should give yourself a second chance to find happiness with a man, but you believe that isn’t possible. Well, I witnessed that connection that day between you and Lord Andrew and was hesitant to leave the two of you alone at the fair because of it.’

  ‘Did you not trust me? Do you think so little of me that I would do something scandalous? You of all people know how much I loved Jonathan.’ The lies were rolling off her tongue so easily.

  ‘Your love for Jonathan has nothing to do with this. There was just something between you and Lord Andrew. I can’t describe it, but I could feel it in the air.’

  ‘Do not romanticise this, Ann. There was nothing between us.’

  He was gone. It was over. She needed to forget it even happened.