Noble Destiny (12 page)

Her chin went up and her eyes narrowed. “On the contrary, my lord, there is something I want him
not
to do.”

Dare rubbed his nose, leaving a slight smear of grease on his face. Charlotte stared at it, her fingers itching to wipe it off, to stroke the long planes of his face.

“What's that?”

“Hmmm? You have something just there…no, I'll get it.” She brushed aside his hand and ran her finger down the long length of his nose. He stilled under her touch. Her breath quickened in response.

“Charlotte?” His eyes, she couldn't help noticing, had darkened to the color of the ocean on a summer's day. He took her hand in his, his thumb making gentle circles on her wrist. Her heart leaped at his touch.

“Yes, Alasdair?”

“Wills?”

She blinked, withdrawing from the fantasy of just what part of him she'd like to be stroking at that moment. “Wills?”

Dare nodded at the lad. “You said you wanted him not to do something? What exactly would that be?”

“Oh. Wills. Yes, of course. Quite simply, my lord, I do not wish for him to be my maid.”

Dare looked at her, disbelief rife in his mind-meltingly handsome eyes. “Your maid?”

Charlotte nodded. She'd decided to stand firm on this issue. If she started giving in to every one of Dare's eccentric habits, who knows where she would end up. “That's correct. I do not wish him to be my maid. He's too young, he knows nothing about dressing hair, and frankly, I doubt if he can care for my clothing in a manner suited to my position.” Char leaned closer until her breath brushed his cheek. “The boy wipes his nose on his sleeve!”

“He does?” Dare asked, his breath mingling with hers as he turned his head to her.

“Yes,” she said, immediately losing the train of the conversation. God's toenails, the man was so handsome it made her feel positively dowdy in comparison. Char took control of all her parts that were clamoring to be cast into Dare's arms and stepped back. She had to be firm, that was all, firm and resolute in the face of the most tempting man on the face of the earth.

Dare raised his eyebrows at her, and asked mildly, “Why would you even think of Wills as a maid… Batsfoam, come back here! You have drafting to do!”

“What do you mean, why would I think of Wills as my maid?” Charlotte was outraged by the implication behind his words. Clearly he didn't feel she needed a maid at all and was regretting the loss of Wills at his regular tasks. Well, if that were the case, he could think twice! “The boy was assigned to me, that's why. I'm sure you have other things for him to do. From what Batsfoam has told me, every member of your staff seems to be doing the jobs of three people, but nonetheless, I simply must have a maid. It is impossible to undo the tapes at the back of my gown without assistance.”

“My most gracious and kind lord, I was just going to fulfill the other tasks that claim my time with the intention of returning to draft your new boiler design just as soon as I have seen to my lord and lady's comfort, health, and general well-being.”

“Stay where you are, Batsfoam. Charlotte, I never said—”

“Not to mention my hair. And who will take care of my clothing? I am willing to cooperate to my fullest on many things, Alasdair, but on this I am adamant. I must have a maid!”

“I promised Cook I would assist him with the blacking of the stoves, my august and benevolent lord. And then I must check the coal, see that the beds are turned down and warmed, attend to the doors and windows, bank the fires, polish the silver, clean the knives, check the pantry—”

“If you take one step from this room, Batsfoam, you'll regret it, so help me God. Now, Charlotte, if you would just listen to me—”

“Your own sister has a maid,” Charlotte said indignantly, poking him in the chest. “A female one, too. You cannot deny me one. Go ahead. Try to deny me a maid. I'll wager you won't find yourself with a leg to stand on if you dare try to deny me the simple necessities of life!”

“—and then there's the stables to be mucked out, the chimney pots to be checked, the privy door to be repaired—”

“CHARLOTTE!” Dare roared.

“WHAT?” she roared back, intent on giving as good as she got.

Dare breathed heavily for a few seconds, his hands fisted at his side, his jaw taut. “I have no intention of denying you a maid. I simply asked why you wanted Wills as your maid. Batsfoam—don't.” Batsfoam, reading quite accurately the threat in his employer's eyes, stopped trying to escape and resigned himself to the inevitable.

“I don't want Wills as a maid!” Charlotte cried. Why had she never noticed that Alasdair was all beauty and no brain? “That's just the point.
I
don't want
him as a maid, nor do I want Batsfoam. He is totally unsuitable, Alasdair, and even if you don't care if another man dresses and undresses me, I do! I won't have it!” She stamped her foot for good measure.

Dare slowly turned his head from his wife to the butler. “You offered yourself to my lady as her maid?”

A flicker of what might have been guilt was seen for a fleeting moment before Batsfoam's expression settled into its usual dour lines. “You instructed me to have the staff do as many jobs as possible in the name of economy, my lord. I felt the addition of a maid for the sole use of her ladyship would not be in best keeping with the sacrifices we are all making on your behalf.”

“Her
maid
, Batsfoam?”

Batsfoam pursed his lips and tried to look contrite. He didn't succeed particularly well, Charlotte thought.

“Perhaps I did err in my reasoning, but I assure both my lord and my lady that I had only my kind and most generous lord's goodwill in mind.”

Charlotte, all smiles once she realized that Dare hadn't intended on foisting his butler on her as a maid, allowed her dimples free rein as Dare unburdened himself of a brief lecture to Batsfoam about what consisted of proper duties and what didn't, ending with the order to hire Charlotte a female lady's maid in the morning.

“I will draft a letter to the agency this very moment, my lord.”

“If you do not return within ten minutes—” Dare growled.

Batsfoam assured him the note would take but the merest moment to complete.

“I'm sure Patricia's maid will help you tonight with…er…” Dare frowned at Batsfoam and Wills, waiting until they had left before gesturing toward Charlotte's midsection. “…with your gown and such.”

She nodded and waited for him to make reference to his participation in the activities on the schedule for later. She waited in vain.

“Would you like me to show you what I'm working on now?” Dare offered. “It's just the air pump and a condenser, but you might find it interesting.”

Charlotte thought that was hardly likely, but mindful of the newly born desire to make her husband happy, she bent forward to look at a collection of tubes, valves, and other assorted mechanical devices that Dare indicated.

“It's part of my double-acting engine. What you see here is just part of the engine; the whole thing is made up of a steam cylinder, a stern wheel, the boiler, and the air pump and condenser. Working together, they turn the connecting rod connected to a paddle wheel, and that propels the boat without it having to recourse to manual labor or wind.”

Charlotte, first inclined to yawn at the sight of the unintelligible mass of metal, couldn't help but notice the excitement in Dare's voice when he described—in terms she couldn't even begin to understand—the basic principles behind steam engine travel. She watched him closely as he talked and pointed out various bits and pieces to the condenser, explained how an air pump worked, and detailed the dangers involved in designing an engine meant to work with salt water. She listened and nodded, but all she really saw was how much regard he held for the project.

“This is important to you,” she said in dawning awareness. “Very important, isn't it?”

He bent an admonishing eye upon her as he took another rag—clean, she noticed—and polished the glass face of a gauge. “It's important to both of us, Charlotte. The success of my engine means our success, no more, no less. Without it…well, without it our future is dark.”

“Oh, you're overexaggerating.” She smiled. “How can our future be dark? You are an earl, an important man, you have a lovely and charming wife who is sure to take the
ton
by storm, thereby doing great credit by you. I am sure to give you handsome children, assuming, that is, that your manly instrument is agreeable, and I see no reason why it should not be, not that I ever understood why Antonio's wouldn't even twitch for me, but truly, that is neither here nor there. We have a perfectly glorious future—what could possibly threaten it?”

Dare stopped polishing and shook his head for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he said, “Let's take that slowly, shall we? In small chunks, so it's easier to understand. First of all, my title has nothing to do with our future happiness. All that I gained when the title came to me was a mountain of debts I couldn't possibly pay off in one lifetime, and three estates in such dire circumstances it would take a miracle to make them self-supporting.”

Charlotte smiled sympathetically at her husband. Imagine believing an earldom had nothing to do with happiness. Still, he clearly had some strong feelings on the subject. An indefinable need to comfort him by some wifely means swept over her, generating a bright, shining idea in her mind. She
would
comfort him! He was upset, and she was his wife; therefore, it was her duty to comfort him. She wondered briefly how to go about doing that since she'd never actually comforted a man before, let alone a husband. Whenever Antonio was upset, he'd just go off to be with his sheep. Still, it couldn't be that difficult. People, she was sure, were comforted all the time. She was an intelligent woman. If she put her mind to it, she could deduce the proper steps needed to undertake a successful comforting.

“Secondly, you won't be in town long enough to take the
ton
by storm.”

Charlotte racked her brain for comforting gestures. From a distant corner of her mind the memory arose of when she was a little child, and of how her mother used to rub her back when she was ill. That was just what he needed! A tender smile graced her lips as she glided over to where Dare stood and placed her palm on his back, gazing up into his eyes with what she hoped looked like wifely concern. Inside, she was sure, it looked like desire, but hopefully he wouldn't notice it. She was almost certain that desire had no part in general comforting.

“Third, you seem not to be listening at all when I tell you that I'm not a rich man, so I will tell you again: I am not exaggerating, Charlotte. I told you before we wed that you would have to manage with economizing most stringently. I don't have the money to buy you a new wardrobe, or take you on trips, or any of the myriad other things you will no doubt demand as your due. All the household are doing their part to help, and I expect no less from my wife.”

Charlotte let her fingers wander over the muscled planes of his back, her entire being focused on the sensation of heat that flowed from his flesh through the soft linen of his shirt to her fingertips. She started rubbing small circles on his spine as her mother had done, but soon she was mapping out the terrain of his back with long, languid strokes that made every part of her aware that she was a woman, he was a man, and they were alone together. Legally wed. Able to procreate without censure or condemnation.

“Fourth,” Dare stammered, his eyes a bit wild around the edges as she moved around behind him to use her other hand as well. She felt a bit flushed, but she was determined to see the comforting through to the end. It was her duty, and she was ever a dutiful wife. “About your expectations with regards to my manly…er…”

Charlotte was suddenly desperate to touch his flesh. She tugged at the shirt until it pulled free of his trousers, slipping her hands beneath to where his flesh beckoned and called to her.

“So hot,” she breathed, running her fingers over every muscled bulge and valley, tracing the line of his ribs, overwhelmed with the sense and feel and scent of him until she had to lean forward and press her face against his shirt. “You make me feel so hot, husband. You make me feel as if I'm on fire.”

Dare groaned and quickly ripped his shirt off even as he turned to gather her in his arms.

“Charlotte, it's very important that you listen to what I'm going to say,” he told her, his breath hot on her lips, but she didn't have the time or energy to focus on his words. Words weren't important—the heat that was building inside of her was. Fire, she thought to herself as she molded her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. He was like fire in her blood, making her burn with desire and need and all sorts of sensual, shameful things that her womanly parts were demanding with each breath Dare drew. She threaded her fingers through his golden hair and tugged.

“It's your fault I'm on fire; do something about it,” she demanded, tilting her head back, offering her mouth even as she wondered if she could stand the inferno his kiss was sure to cause.

“I'm sorry you're on fire,” he said, his lips teasing hers with tiny little nips that made her squirm against him.

“Are you truly?” She rubbed herself against him, her body needing the hard touch of his.

“No,” he said just before he claimed her mouth. Charlotte pressed herself even closer as his tongue swept inside her. She was eager to taste him, welcoming his outrageous demand that she submit to him. Charlotte had never submitted to any man in her life, but there was just something truly phenomenal about Dare—she thought it might be his tongue—that crumbled all her resistance until it was only the vaguest memory.