Belong To Me (book 4) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (16 page)

She rushed to the roaring fire, hoping her shaky limbs were due to the cold air on her wet skin. As she pulled her brush sharply through the tangles, she began the process of drying her hair. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked to see if he was watching her. He was.

“I received a visitor this afternoon that greatly surprised me,” she said. “He gave me a proposition.”

His brows creased into a scowl.
“He?
Your visitor was a man? And he propositioned you? Who was it? George?”

She threw him an agitated look and rolled her eyes. “Quit acting the jealous part. It wasn’t George.”

“Who then?”

“My visitor was Lord Thatcher.”

His eyes widened. “Adam Newton?
Earl of Thatcher?”

Taking long strides, he crossed the room to her side. Heat from his breath whispered over her face.

She laughed lightly and nodded. “Yes, the one from the castle.”

“How do you know him?”

“Umm—” She swallowed hard, quickly concocting a story. “I met him a few days ago while Allison and I were out riding in the country.”

He casually folded his arms over his chest again, his brow arching in disbelief. “You don’t say.”

“Lord Thatcher has offered his help. He suggested you and I stay with him at the castle until you can straighten out your problem with the commissioner.”

Ian snorted. “Why would Lord Thatcher offer his help? Why would the cold-hearted man be so generous—” He paused and his gaze hardened.
“Unless it was to impress my wife?”

She rolled her eyes heavenward, and then turned toward the fire. “Don’t be a fool, Ian. Think how appropriate his offer is, especially now.”

“So, then why would a beast like Lord Thatcher want us to come and stay with him?”

Without thinking, she quickly spun around, her hair flying around her head and falling over a shoulder. “He’s not a beast! If you knew him at all, you’d know he is really kindhearted and caring.”

Ian took a step closer. “Oh, my sweet, be careful how you speak of the man. Your husband might get the wrong impression of where your loyalties lie.” His fingers curled around a lock of her damp hair and caressed it gently. “Do you want me to prove what a jealous husband I really am? Because, Mrs. Fielding, you’re the most beautiful woman I know and it’s hard to stay sane around you. How can a man like me help but have jealous feelings when other men look at you, especially when you give them kind words but cannot do the same for your own husband?”

She tilted her head. “Perhaps they have earned those words and you have not.”

“Ooh, so cruel.” His fingers left her hair and caressed her cheek. “Where is that She-Devil I met the other night? That intoxicating woman wasn’t mean with her words, but seductively charming instead.”

“I fear, Mr. Fielding, that woman departed when her identity was unveiled.”

“Is there no way to get her back?”

The fire behind her suddenly became too hot, or was it the fire inside her, because his words were enticing. His suggestion wasn’t totally unpleasant, but did she really want him to seduce her?

“Ian, please.” She pushed his hand away. “We have gotten off the matter at hand.” She tried to move past him, but his arms slipped around her waist and brought her body against his.

“No, I believe this is the matter at hand.” His lips descended quickly, giving her no time to protest.

He pressed his mouth to her stiff lips. Through his tender caress, he coaxed her to relax. She wanted to fight off his advances, but her struggles were all for naught because his hands moved over her, assisting with the seduction. Gently and sensuously they roamed over her back. His fingers traced tiny circles up her spine, slowly, so slowly, weakening her resistance.

A soft moan tore from her throat, and without being able to help it, she softened her lips beneath his. With a grunt of satisfaction, he wrapped his arms tightly around her. It wasn’t long before she moved her arms upward to embrace his neck as her body melted against his. Everything felt so wonderful, just like it had the other night at the mask ball. The intoxicating urgent kiss was exactly the same, making her want more.

Breaking the kiss, he breathed hot against her cheek. “Charlotte? I want to claim you as my wife now.
Fully.”
His lips moved across her cheek to her ear, nibbling slightly on the lobe then down her neck.

Although her body’s temperature rose dangerously high, confusion plagued her mind. Ian’s passionate caress was the very thing she craved, and even through the mist of chaos, his hands burned her body out of control. When his hand pulled open the rope around her neck, cool air touched her and brought her out of the cloudy haze filling her mind. Panic settled in her thoughts.

“Ian, no.”
She tried to pull away, but he continued in his efforts as his lips made their way down her throat. “Ian, please,
don’t
do this.”

He drew back and lifted his head. Passion was etched on his handsome face, and especially in his dark eyes, making him much more handsome than she thought possible.

“What am I doing to you except what you want?” His voice was husky, seductive.

Tears filled her eyes. “But I don’t want this. It’s too soon. I’m not ready.”

“Yes you are.” His thumb grazed over her skin. “I can tell.”

“No, Ian.” She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back, and then clutched her robe together. “You don’t understand. I don’t even understand, but I know I’m not ready.”

Sighing heavily, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Is it because you don’t trust me?”

Charlotte couldn’t control the hysterical laughter that left her throat. “Do you think I should trust you with my body and mind, especially my heart?” She shook her head. “Please forgive me if I don’t just hand you my heart. How many times do I have to keep reminding you that you left me?” Tears slid down her cheeks and her emotion broke.

“And how many times are you going to make me pay for my mistakes?” he snapped angrily.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Until I can see you’re truly sorry, but I don’t think you’ll ever be. You’re nothing but a cold-hearted, inconsiderate man.” She turned and ran to her bed, throwing herself on the blankets as her sobs echoed loudly through the room.

Ian didn’t stay to comfort her. He left her room the same way he’d entered, quickly and unnoticed.

Charlotte stepped into the cobweb-laden rooms and sighed heavily as her slippers pushed through the half-inch layer of dust on the floor. When she thought about the work that would be needed to make the place livable, a shudder ran through her, but her strong will said she was up for the challenge.

The rooms Lord Thatcher had chosen pleased her. They were far enough away from his private chambers, but not too far from the library. Lord Thatcher moved past her with an awkward limp and set a trunk down on the floor. His breaths were labored. “Forgive me for not having these rooms ready for your arrival.”

She smiled. “They are just fine, I assure you. I’ll put on an apron, and between my servants and me, we’ll have these rooms clean in no time.”

“Oh, Mrs. Fielding, you mustn’t get your hands dirty.”

She passed him a playful scowl. “Don’t you think I can handle it? Besides, more helping hands will make the work move quicker. I need to keep busy.”

He returned a smile and nodded.

“Now get out of my way and let me clean.” She shooed him with her hands. “It’s not every day you’ll see me in this kind of mood.”

His deep laughter echoed throughout the hall as his uneven footsteps moved away.

She instructed Ian’s servants where to clean then took up a broom herself and began sweeping. Her eyes watered and she sneezed, but stubbornly, she kept at the task until her rooms were livable. During one of her breaks, she let herself think about Ian. She hadn’t let him know she’d moved into the castle, but he’d find out one way or another. It’d been three days since their argument, and he hadn’t returned.

The commissioner had stopped her momentarily as she tried to pass, but she bluntly told him she couldn’t live with his men constantly under her feet while he made her feel like a prisoner in her own home. When the commissioner asked where she was headed, she simply replied that she was going to stay with a friend and taking some servants with her. The servants packed most of Ian’s belongings just in case Commissioner Franklin and his men wandered back inside the house once she was gone. She didn’t trust those men with Ian’s possessions.

She swiped her hand across her moist brow and looked at the sparkling floors. With a nod of satisfaction, she moved to her bedchamber to put her clothes away in the many armoires provided in the room. She didn’t worry about Ian’s clothes. His servants would put his things away.

Leaning against the clean wall, she scanned the meager furnishings. Tomorrow she’d travel into town and purchase some necessary items for the room. A nice rug for the floor would be perfect for cold mornings, and a new washbasin and tub would make her baths more enjoyable.

She walked on sluggish feet as she made her way to her bed that evening. Her maid had drawn a warm tub of water and helped her bathe before getting her ready for bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, her exhausted mind gave into dreams.

* * * *

The sweet fragrance of a rose drifted through Charlotte’s senses, arousing her from a deep sleep, and the delicate softness swept against her cheek and lips. She fought to remain asleep, but the continuous stroke of the rose brought her to awareness. She forced her heavy eyelids open, and then squinted from the brightness of the room as the sun’s rays poured through the window’s diamond paned glass. Through the streak of light, Ian leaned over her with a rose in his hand, moving it slowly across her face in a tender caress.

He smiled. “Good morning, my sweet.”

Blinking a couple of times, she cleared the fuzziness from her eyes. Ian was certainly in a chipper mood. Had he forgotten about their last argument? She’d play along to see what he wanted.

“Good morning, Ian. I see you have located my room easy enough.”

He chuckled and straightened. “Yes. Lord Thatcher escorted me. I have to say how surprised I am, though. He informed me you were the one to clean them.”

She yawned and stretched then winced when her stiff arms and back wouldn’t cooperate. She struggled to sit. “Yes, I cleaned them, with help from your servants, of course.”

“I think you did an amazing job putting everything together.” He helped by placing more pillows behind her back.

When her mind was alert enough, she cocked her head and met his gaze. “Have you figured out why you’re being accused of thievery?”

“No, but I have a few suspects.”

Disappointed, she sighed.
“Who?”

“I know for certain somebody is setting me up, and a couple of people are top of my list.”

“But nothing conclusive, right?”

He shook his head.

“Are you still disguising yourself as an old lady?”

“No. I’ve been masquerading as an older businessman from out of town. I’ll keep that role until the commissioner’s men get suspicious.”

Her gaze swept over his attire, plain cream-colored shirt, and coffee trousers. “But you are not disguised now.”

“I thought it would be nice to be myself for a little while. Maybe you’ll enjoy my company better that way.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Do you plan on spending time with me today?”

“Of course, my sweet.
How else are we going to get to know each other? Although you might think differently, a month’s time will really pass by quickly.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.” She paused, and then asked, “What do you have planned?”

He toyed with the loose sleeve of her nightgown and when his finger touched her skin, a tingle ran up her arm. She quickly withdrew from his touch.

Ian placed his hand by her leg. “I’d like to escort you outside the castle for a walk and take in this very beautiful morning with you.”

“Aren’t you afraid of being discovered?”

“By whom?”

“Some of the servants.”

His happy expression dropped and he stood. “I didn’t stop to think about the servants turning me in.”

She reached out and touched his shirt. “Maybe they won’t. I think they’re very loyal to you.”

“But who can say for certain? And I don’t want to take that chance.” He shrugged. “Perhaps we should dismiss them.”

“Can you afford to keep them around, Ian?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard about your money probably…and that you haven’t been getting many clients for your business.”

His gaze narrowed. “Who told you that?”

“Does it matter? Is this information true?” She knew his answer by the way his shoulders wilted.

“Some of it’s true. I haven’t been getting many new clients, but I’m not out of money.”

“How long will it last?”