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Page 17


  “Indeed, sir. I will ask Lord Valentinian to escort me and my chaperone one night.”

  “Now that,” he said softly, “is what I would particularly like to talk to you about.”

  With a swift left turn, he rounded a hedge and kept going, taking her to a small building at the end of the path. Nobody could see them if they entered. Greatly daring, Charlotte allowed Lord Kellett to take her between the twisted columns into the cool space within.

  He escorted her to one of the hard wooden benches lining the white-painted walls, and she sat, her smile fixed in place. He sat next to her, as close as he could get, gazing at her.

  He glanced down and then back up at her face. A small crease marked his smooth forehead. “Lady Charlotte, I find you charming and a delightful companion.”

  If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was making a declaration. However, he could not intend that. “Thank you, sir. I confess, it is delightfully cool in here. How clever of you to find it.” She laid her fan on the seat next to her and folded her hands in her lap. “The garden is beautiful from this aspect.”

  He barely spared the vista a glance. “I prefer the view from where I am sitting.”

  “Sir—” She got no further.

  “Madam, my lady…Charlotte. I have done my best to quell my feelings for you. But I can bear no more.”

  He paused, seemingly at a loss for words, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. Although his words made her uncomfortable, Charlotte stayed to listen. “Lord Kellett…” She laid a gentle hand over his, which proved a mistake, because he captured it in both of his.

  “Hervey, please call me Hervey, at least in private.”

  She should not, but she’d do it to pacify him. “Hervey, then. You are aware I am betrothed?”

  “Yes, and I am also aware that I am transgressing, not only with you, but with the hospitality of Lord Strenshall and his family.”

  She nodded. Being in their house, he most certainly was.

  “I cannot hold my emotions back any longer. Lady Charlotte, why do you allow Lord Valentinian to treat you so?”

  Now it was her turn to frown. What on earth did he mean? “He treats me with respect.”

  “I would not say so!” He spoke with such passion that she moved back. However, he did not let go of her hands. “He treats you with a great deal of carelessness. He is happy merely to have you in his sights, although he makes no move to further his connection with you.”

  “We like one another well enough, but we prefer not to live in one another’s pocket.” Wistfulness infused her. She would like to know what that felt like, to have a man devoted to her, one who could not wait to marry her. Val had enjoyed a number of mistresses. She had no idea if he had one now. The thought did not sit well with her, but she would have to endure many such once they married.

  Her mother had tolerated many before her death, but her father kept his women carefully closeted. There was never any scandal. He never used a society lady and he paid off his mistresses with enough of an annuity to keep their mouths shut. Charlotte only knew because she’d heard her brother talking about it with a friend. “My father has to pay for his pleasures because of his proclivities,” George had said with a sigh. George sent abroad for that transgression, to tour Europe with his tutor. Not that it proved any punishment, because he was soon setting Versailles on its ear.

  “You have been betrothed for an age,” Hervey gently pointed out.

  As if she needed reminding.

  “Two years,” she said, setting her jaw. In all that time Val had treated her more like one of his sisters than his betrothed, and he had never broached the subject of setting a date for their wedding.

  “Will Lord Valentinian not come to the mark? Because if he will not, there are plenty of people who will.” Was he speaking to her as a friend? He was caressing her palm with his thumb, which she found distracting. She wasn’t at all sure she liked it. His gesture made her want to scratch her hand. “I haven’t noticed a preponderance of men flocking to my door.”

  “You only need one. May I be frank, Charlotte?”

  She allowed the use of her first name. Intrigued, she nodded.

  “My dear, I have become very fond of you. More than fond, if truth be told.”

  “We have only been acquainted for three months.”

  “I only needed an hour.” His fervent voice echoed around the hushed space, bouncing off the roof and back to her. “I have tried to remain silent, but I can do so no longer. I adore you, Charlotte, and I would love nothing more than to offer you my hand and protection in marriage.”

  Shocked, she stared at him. Was he truly saying this? She’d had no idea he felt so strongly toward her. His blue eyes were wide and his mouth partially open, even though he had stopped speaking, revealing the gleam of sharp, white teeth. “I can say nothing, you know that.” What else could she say? The experience of having a man wildly in love with her had never come her way before, and she floundered, not knowing how to respond.

  She found his fervency somewhat alarming, but all the same it fascinated her. “How can you possibly know you want me?” She bit her lip, wetting the suddenly dry, delicate skin.

  “I know, dearest Charlotte. Believe me, I know. Is there any way our love can be fulfilled, or are we doomed to watch each other from afar?” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, letting his tongue dip between her knuckles with a flicker she wasn’t sure of until she saw the flash of pink that went with his gesture. He had tasted her.

  Charlotte knew her duty. “We cannot, sir. I have always been obedient, never gone against what my father wished…” Indeed, how could she? Unlike her sister, who she had not seen in over a year, the sister she was forbidden to talk about. A tinge of sorrow touched her when she recalled Sarah, her laughing face and the daring ways that had eventually led to her downfall.

  “You are a good and obedient daughter,” he said in an approving tone. “I have spoken to your father, told him how irresistible I find you.”

  Charlotte quailed. “Did he not forbid you?”

  “Not precisely. He reminded me of your contract to Lord Shaw, but he gave me permission to speak to you. However, he said the choice must be yours. You must speak to him yourself.”

  Her father was actually amenable to this change?

  “Will you not ask your father on our behalf? Surely he does not wish to see his daughter dwindle into an old maid while her betrothed gads about with not a care to his responsibilities?”

  Should he be talking about Val like that in front of her? But he had cause. However, honor demanded that she remind him of the proprieties.

  A bee buzzed by her nose, circling her, probably after the roses in her hat. It was doomed to disappointment, since they were made of silk. “Sir, Lord Valentinian and I are considering our wedding date.” They weren’t, but it didn’t hurt to say so.

  With his free hand, he made a grand dismissive gesture worthy of an actor. “Pah! Lord Valentinian is deferring his wedding for all he is worth. If I thought there was true feeling between you, that you were devoted to each other, I would never dare speak, but that is not the case, is it, dearest Charlotte? I can make you happy. I swear I can. I will devote my life to you and consider it well lost!”

  His fervency spoke volumes. Had he really lost his heart to her? Did she dare to believe that she, dowdy, quiet Charlotte, had engendered passion in a man?

  More importantly, his estate assured Charlotte that he was no fortune hunter. The fervency of his declaration and the suddenness with which he made it could have made her suspicious. Society took her for granted, gave proper due to her status as the daughter of a duke, but nobody took much notice of her.

  Or did he want a wife with status? Lord Kellett was a peer in his own right and possessed of considerable wealth. So no, he would not need her standing in society or he
r fortune, which, for a duke’s daughter, was relatively modest.

  He had brought her here for a private conversation, but he could easily have chosen this place to compromise her and force her decision. If she’d thought he’d have any degree of success, she would never have accompanied him to this secluded spot.

  Charlotte was no naive society miss with feathers for brains. Moreover, if he sought to compromise her, this was not the house for it. The Shaws had their own scandals, most of which society forgave, because the Emperors were society’s darlings. She stared at Hervey, a million different thoughts sparking in her head.

  Had he really lost his heart to her? That would make a refreshing change. She’d waited a year to see if Val would see her as more than a convenient excuse. When they had become betrothed he’d been frank, asking her to allow him some freedom before pressing him for a wedding date. He’d proceeded to use her as a useful way of dissuading the more importunate matchmakers who clustered around the Shaw family every season.

  Charlotte had allowed it. In the back of her mind, she’d waited for him to fall in love with her, or at least show her some affection, but he still treated her with the same careless but polite indifference he used with everyone else he knew.

  Hervey was handsome and passionate. She was sure she could come to love him in time. He would be hers, devoted to her. Moreover, she did not feel the same despairing love for him. She liked him well enough, in a way that could, she imagined, easily turn to love as time passed.

  Yes, she would do it, on one condition. “Would you offer my sister a home?”

  He gave her a quizzical look but nodded after a moment. “I would be honored to do so, should she be in need of one.”

  That was the answer she needed. Resolution took her. She could not continue as she was, with her sister and herself under their father’s thumb and with no prospect of actual marriage to Val. She had to move on with her life. If possible, she would take this man.

  Ever since he had appeared in London at the start of the season, Hervey had paid her particular attention, so his regard, while premature, was not totally unexpected.

  He clasped her hands, tightening his hold. “Please, my dearest one, give me an answer. If not now, tell me when you will be free. If you tell me to leave, I will never mention this again!”

  “You had better not,” a voice drawled from the doorway.