Sylvie Sommerfield - Noah's Woman (29 page)

BOOK: Sylvie Sommerfield - Noah's Woman
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Gregory was silent, as was Glenda. She had her own plans in mind.

When all the guests had gone, Glenda searched Gregory out in the library, where he had retreated from her questions.

"What are you going to do about this, Gregory?"

"I told Van Buran, and I will tell you. I know how to handle Charity."

"How? By threatening to tell Noah about her past?"

"Exactly, but I need time. Noah and Charity are not back from their honeymoon yet, and no one knows where they went. Don't you think I have questioned everyone?"

"Gregory, while we are waiting, we may be able to find an even better weapon. You said Charity told you she was raised in an orphanage?"

"Yes, the Safe Home Orphanage. Why?"

"I think I know someone who might be able to find some answers for us. He has . . . dealt with this orphanage for some time."

"Dealt with?"

"Well, you might say he acquires his . . . playthings from there."

"My God, he takes girls from there for"

"His pleasure." She shrugged. "But that is of little

interest to us. What is of interest is that he might know about this Charity."

"Do you think he?"

"If he had the opportunity, yes, of course. He also might know where she could have hidden that packet."

"Then we must find some answers."

"I will see him tomorrow."

"Shall I go with you?"

"Perhaps you should. This is one man I think it's time you met."

Charles had just finished breakfast when his visitors were announced. But when he stepped inside the room where they were waiting, he was not in the best of moods. He had had his fill of Glenda. In fact, he had wished many times that he had never met her, enjoyed her bed, and made the foolish mistake of getting her pregnant.

He had paid dearly to keep his secret, up until Glenda's husband had met his sudden and very convenient demise. Now he presented her occasionally with some jewel or bauble that she coveted, and tried to keep her at a distance.

He had warned her a number of times not to bring Gregory here to his home. But when he entered the room and his gaze fell on Gregory, he needed no one to tell him who this was. Angrily he turned to Glenda.

"Glenda," he said with cool control, "why are you here?"

"I have something of the greatest importance to

talk to you about. And . . . I think it's time you met my son, Gregory."

Charles's gaze returned to Gregory, who was perusing him with the same arrogant regard. "Hello, Gregory."

"How do you do?"

"Glenda . . . I have told you"

"I have only come to talk, Charles. There is nothing I want from you . . . except perhaps some information."

"What is it you want to know?"

"Can we not sit down and talk?"

He had no desire to converse with them, but he knew the stubborn look in Glenda's eyes. She was not a woman to make angry . . . she knew too much.

"Of course, please." He motioned toward the couch.

"What is it I can do for you, Glenda?"

"I know you have had dealings with the Safe Home Orphanage," Glenda began, and she was surprised to see the look of alarm in Charles's eyes. "I have the name of a girl who was raised there and I would like to know what you know about her."

"Who is this girl you're so interested in?"

"Her name is Charity" She looked at Gregory for the last name.

"Gilbert," Gregory added.

"Charity Gilbert," Charles repeated.

"You do know her?"

"Yes . . . I do . . . did."

"She was one of"

"My employees."

"Your employees?" Glenda laughed. "Charles, do you know where she is now?"

"No, I don't."

"She is now the bride of Noah Morgan."

Charles considered this and then smiled unpleasantly. "I see. When were they married?"

"Over a week ago."

"So, what is this to me?"

Gregory went on to tell Charles how and where he had met Charity, and how he had brought her into plans of his own.

"And so, she has something of great value to me, and I want it back."

"Well, you have come to the wrong person. I know nothing about it, and have no interest in the girl anymore."

Glenda was much too clever to accept that glib response. She knew how to use blackmail, and she knew what Charles had in mind even before the plan was fully formed in his own mind.

"I have a feeling you know more about her than you will admit."

"I know of her and I know she was here for a while, and that she ran away. I have not seen her since. I'm glad you told me where she is. I might just pay her a little visit."

"You
will
pay her a little visit," Glenda said firmly. "And you will ask some questions it is imperative that we have answers to."

"Such as?"

"You will ask her what she did with the packet of papers Gregory had her find for us. She'll know what

you're talking about. You have the power to bring her to her senses, and to get us what we need. After that, what you get from her will be your own business. I'm sure she does not want her new husband to know of that part of her life."

"What is in this packet that is of so much interest to you?"

"That is none of your affair. If you ask too many questions"she shrugged"you might find yourself facing some people you'd be better off not knowing."

"Sounds intriguing."

"Find that packet for us. Find what she did with it, where she hid it. There will be more reward than just the girl."

"I will find it. When I do . . . we will do business."

"Don't think to try force or blackmail with me, Charles. I hold too many cards."

"Me? Blackmail you? You are the expert in blackmail."

"She is?" Gregory questioned. "And what could she use against you?"

Charles smiled grimly but did not answer. But Glenda was angry and she did not like Charles's attitude. "He is your father!" she blurted out. "He was married to a woman of great wealth and was afraid to lose it, so he decided you would be our secret. I know your wife is dead, Charles. If I told everyone what I know about you, there might just be more questions about her death than you can answer. Perhaps even the name of the Safe Home Orphanage might come up."

"You have always been a bitch, Glenda. Don't

bother with gloating. I'll find out what you want to know.''

"I thought you might."

"And I'll find out all my answers, too. Maybe I would find it beneficial to know what you are involved in."

Gregory had been shocked at the revelation. "My father?" he asked. "Why did you not tell me?"

"It's not important," Glenda said. "He cannot acknowledge you, and you would have to give up all I have fought for to name him father. Look at him, Gregory, does he look like he is welcoming you into his life?"

Gregory did look, and he knew Charles would have liked nothing better than to see him vanish. He was enough like his mother to reach for the easiest way when a problem presented itself.

"I am Randolph Hamilton's son and heir. I don't need another father. I only need you to find where Charity could have taken that packet. After that, we can part company."

Charles was just as happy to do that as Gregory. Still, he wanted to know what was in this packet . . . and what use he might make of it himself.

"When is dear Charity Morgan due to come home?"

"Within a few days, I am told," Glenda said. "It seems the newlyweds have an invitation to see the queen. Noah has a great deal of influence at court. We need to rid ourselves of him . . . and another. Then your way will be clear to Charity. Who knows, she might make you an excellent mistress. I know she is thought very pretty."

"Yes," Charles said. He remembered Charity as if it were yesterday. The thought of forcing her to be his mistress was exciting. "All right, I will see to Charity and meet you afterwards. I'll send around a message when I have what you want."

"How very cooperative of you, Charles. Trust me, there are a number of us that will be grateful."

When Charles had closed the door behind Glenda and the son he found as cold as the mother, he considered his plans. There was a great deal Glenda was not telling him. She always played for high stakes, and he had no doubt there was something she was involved in that could make him a very happy man. Yes, he would look into all aspects of the situation . . . especially the possibility of making Charity his . . . yes, he would enjoy that, he would enjoy that very much.

Charity was as happy as she had ever dreamed of being. She and Noah had spent the past two weeks simply learning about and enjoying each other.

It was time to return home, yet both were reluctant to bring an end to their solitude. She sat by the window deep in thought, and was unaware that Noah stood in the doorway and watched her. What a portrait she made, sitting between him and the light of the setting sun. The past nights lingered in his thoughts, and he could still feel the heat of her passion. She was a miracle in his life. No matter how many ways he looked at her, or possessed her, he wanted her more and more. He knew this was a woman with whom he would be endlessly fascinated.

She was a mystery he might never solve, but he would give a lifetime to trying.

He did not believe that anyone had ever been as happy as he. It was not a wild and clamorous happiness. His happiness was as clear and still as a summer dawn, and as quiet. It seemed to run through him like cool water over hot sand. The love he had for Charity was like a coat of armor that covered all his uncertainties and kept out all fear. She was so much weaker than he, so trusting and loving and tender that he became stronger in the urge to protect her.

Charity had given him the ability to see what he had never known, and might have never knownthe ability to see the loveliness and beauty of life. Until her, he thought, he had never lived, and now that she was part of his life, he intended to live life to the fullest.

Charity was considering what she would do on their return to London. She would go to Amiee and get the packet she had taken from Noah, and not only return it, but tell him all the truth.

He had given her all of himself, his trust and his confidence, and she knew she could not live with her deceit any longer. She meant to make the most of her marriage, and that meant honesty between her and Noah. If he grew angry and refused to look at her again . . . well, she had to face that. She would beg for his understanding if she had to, but she would not live with the lies any longer.

"A penny for your thoughts, my love," Noah said.

Charity turned to face him and smiled. How she loved him. She watched him walk toward her and

was frightened of the idea of losing him.

"It was nothing, really. I was just thinking how wonderful it would be if we could stay here forever."

"It would get rather lonely, wouldn't it?"

"No, not if we were together."

He sat down and put his arms about her, drawing her close to him. "This has been the best two weeks of my life. I wish we could stay longer, but there are some pressing matters in London that need my attention."

Charity laid her head against his chest and sighed contentedly. "Oh, Noah, I'm so very happy. I don't think I ever knew what happiness could be until I met you."

"I intend to keep you that way for a lifetime if I can. I know how hard it has been for you, and I want to make sure the rest of your life is filled with all that makes you happy."

"Then you must stay in it until we are very, very old, for you are what makes me so happy."

"I promise you I shall endeavor to do just that." He bent to kiss her, and his lips lingered against hers, gently savoring the now familiar and sweet taste of her pleasure.

"Must we go back tomorrow?" she whispered.

"I'm afraid there is no help for it, love. I have arranged for the carriage to come for us. But for tonight . . . there will be no intrusions."

Charity looked up into his eyes and felt the same magnetic drawing that pulled her into his arms almost without thought. He lifted her against him, and the kiss they shared had nothing to do with gentle

tastings. It was filled with unrestrained passion which she answered with joyous surrender.

He carried her to the huge bed they shared and stood her on her feet beside it. They stood together and he reached out to stroke her hair. He raised a wayward curl against his lips and inhaled the scent of it. It was as fragrant as he remembered. Then, again he bent to touch her mouth with his. Charity's breath fled as pleasure swept through her. Her breathing was shaky as she whispered his name.

He sat on the edge of the bed and drew her close to him, then, lying back, brought her against him. Charity was carried away by the warmth of his kiss. Her love for Noah welled up inside her like a flood. She loved everything about himthe hardness of his tall, lean body, his touch so filled with fire, his mouth on hers. She savored being held against him so tightly, and the taste and the scent of him. She moaned at the pleasure his strong yet gentle and sensitive hands wrought. She could not seem to control her body's trembling, or the need for more and more of his heated kisses.

Charity reached to twine her fingers in his thick hair. She closed her eyes and let the magic fill her as he tasted the enchanting warmth of her flesh. He wanted her so fiercely that he had to use all his will to leash his desire until he could carry her with him to the pinnacle.

She cried out for him, though she was unaware that the sound of her need reached him. He knew her need matched his, and he could restrain himself no longer. He wanted to be inside her, to feel her close

about him and hold him. But he entered her with slow, easy strokes, lifting her passion higher and higher.

He rose on his elbows so he could watch her face. She had never seemed so dear or so exciting as she was now, at this perfect moment, when he entered her and blended them together into one. The ecstasy he found within her burned to a wild fire inside him. She was a flame in his heart, a vision that would never leave his mind if he lived forever. He knew the rightness of it all, for she was the woman he would always want to share his life, to give him sons, and to spend the years beside him.

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