The Christmas Heiress (25 page)

He kissed her swiftly on the lips. Charlotte held
her breath as she waited for him to leave her chamber, listening for the sound of the door clicking
shut. But the rush of relief she felt when she knew
he had gone was quickly followed by a sudden, puzzling urge to cry.

Surprisingly, Charlotte sat beside his mother at
the midafternoon meal. For a brief instant Edward
thought it might have been an intentional decision,
a way of avoiding him, since he would never willingly join her and put himself within his mother's
range of barbs, but after due consideration he dismissed the notion.

Charlotte was not a cowardly female. If she were
trying to distance herself from him, she would
hardly need to hide behind his mother's skirts.
Still, it was lowering to think she might be trying to steer clear of him, especially after all they had
shared last night.

He carried within him a certain measure of guilt
over those events, a sense of responsibility that bade
him to make amends for his actions and offer to
marry her. The notion pleased him on many levels
and yet he was honest enough to admit to himself
that he could not fully define his feelings toward
Charlotte.

He was drawn to her, found himself thinking
about her at odd moments during the day and
dreaming of her at night.

He could talk to her about his work, a subject he
would never consider mentioning in the presence
of a lady, yet with Charlotte the words flowed freely
and honestly.

He enjoyed sparring with her, became annoyed if
she was too willful, yet he admired her spirit and
courage, her determination to be herself. She was
beautiful and accomplished, though not in the traditionally womanly arts.

She had a quick wit and a sharp tongue and he
was probably more than a bit in love with her. He
definitely lusted after her, but there was more to his
feelings than desire.

Exactly how much more he could not say and
Edward strongly suspected that Charlotte would
demand that he did say.

He thought she looked particularly beautiful this
afternoon. The simplicity of the design of her day
gown emphasized her feminine curves and vibrant
beauty, while the deep rose hue of the fabric complemented her coloring. Her complexion glowed with health, her hair was sleek and shiny and gorgeous in the afternoon sunlight.

Edward inhaled slowly. The recollection of how
her hair had looked spread across her bare shoulders and down her naked back was making his
palms sweat and his pulse race. He wished now he
had stayed in her bedchamber earlier, had lifted
her wet, slick body from the confines of her bathtub, had run his hands over her delicate flesh, had
made love to her in the bright sunlight of the day.

He watched her nibble delicately at her meal, inclining her head and smiling, first at his mother,
who was seated on her right, and then at Lord Reginald, who was seated on her left. She was flushed
and bright-eyed but seemingly in control of her
emotions.

He marveled at her composure. Her back was
straight, her hair twisted elegantly high to expose
the lovely slenderness of her neck, her movements
fluid and graceful. It was hard to believe that a few
hours ago he had been staring at her gorgeous
body in the bathtub, and but a few hours before
that they had been making wild, passionate love in
her bed.

The memory made him restless, edgy and filled
him with an urgency he did not fully understand.
He willed her to look in his direction, yet she continued amusing her table companions, never once
shifting her attention away from them.

Edward had nearly given up hope when suddenly
she turned her head, looking directly into his eyes.
The knowing, assessing stare she gave him stripped
away all his defenses in a chilling rush. The exclusive connection, the sheer intimacy of the moment shocked him. Edward felt as if the wind had been
knocked from his chest.

Charlotte gave no outward indication of a similar
reaction and his heart sank. But then he saw the
slight trembling of her hand as she reached for her
goblet of wine and he knew she too had been affected. A comforting admission.

Edward kept his eyes and his attention on his food
and his table companions for the remainder of the
meal. The guests lingered over dessert, discussing
the Christmas-tree trimming that would take place
tomorrow, expressing their interest in seeing the
special glass ornaments he had imported from Germany. Even after the dishes had been cleared from
the table, the guests milled about, mingling and
laughing and wandering off in groups.

The earl thought it the perfect time to steal Charlotte away and have their long overdue private talk,
but she surprised him again by announcing she
would be joining the older ladies on their afternoon calls to the local gentry. In a flurry of cackling
high-pitched conversation, the women departed.

He did not see her again until the evening meal,
where she somehow managed to seat herself between Lord and Lady Haddon, while he was again at
the opposite side of the table. Bidding his time while
the men lingered over port and cigars, Edward plotted his next move.

However, Charlotte somehow outflanked him,
joining a lively card game that had no room for additional players. Broodingly, he watched her as she
played, trying to devise a way to insinuate himself
into the game. She sat beside his brother, her eyes twinkling with amusement and delight, the pile of
coins in front of her growing steadily.

After hearing a particularly gleeful laugh, Edward
had enough. Deciding he would somehow get his
brother to give up his place at the card table so he
could take it, the earl moved forward. But he had
taken only two steps before he felt a tug on his arm.

"Finally I have you all to myself. Come, sit and
talk with an old lady for a few minutes, young man.
I need your opinion on a new venture my man of
business is recommending."

The earl's initial annoyance at the interruption
softened when he saw it was Lady Johnson-Meyer
holding his arm. Of all of his mother's friends, he
liked the matronly aristocrat the best. She was witty
and full of mischief, the only one who had ever acknowledged the true depth of his business empire
and did not pretend he merely dabbled in finance
for his amusement.

Though she was nearly seventy years of age, Lady
Johnson-Meyer had a keen mind and a good business sense and over the years whenever she was in
London, she had solicited his advice regarding her
own investments. She had placed a sizable portion
of her assets in several of Edward's companies and
doing so had proven to be a profitable relationship
for both of them.

Normally, he enjoyed their conversations, but
tonight her presence was keeping him away from
Charlotte. Still, he could not be rude.

They found a quiet corner and each accepted a
cup of tea from the footman, though Edward left
his untouched. He managed to keep up his end of
the conversation for several minutes, but the sound of Charlotte's distinct laughter pulled his attention
and eyes away.

He saw Jonathan and Charlotte with their heads
bent close together, their hands nearly touching as
they fingered the pile of coins that was placed between them. Edward felt a jolt of annoyance as something unknown twisted in the pit of his stomach.

"She is high-spirited and more than a bit spoiled,
but I always thought she'd make the right man an
excellent wife," Lady Johnson-Meyer murmured
near his ear.

Edward cleared his throat and turned to the
older woman. "Are you speaking of Miss Aldridge?"

"The very same." Her eyes were bright and lively.
"She and your brother make a most handsome
couple. They are such a striking, attractive pair and
seem to get on very well together. Don't you agree?"

"They have known each other for years," he said
dismissively.

Lady Johnson-Meyer sipped delicately from her
teacup. "I have suggested to your mother on several
occasions that it would be an advantageous match
for your brother. She has a substantial dowry. And
I believe Miss Aldridge should be pleased to have
such an attentive, amusing young husband."

Edward thought he surely must have misheard.
Jonathan and Charlotte? He peered at the two
more closely, taking note of the intimacy of their
arrangement, how close together their chairs were
positioned, how they whispered and signalled to
each other during the game.

Then he noticed Charlotte slip something flat
and white into Jonathan's hand beneath the table. The earl's eyes widened in puzzlement. A card?
Were they cheating?

He stood. "Please excuse me, my lady."

The older woman blinked innocently. "Of
course. 'Tis necessary to protect one own's interests, is it not?"

Startled, Edward nearly tripped over his feet. "I
am sure you are mistaken. Miss Aldridge and I
share no more than a brief acquaintance."

"Oh, I am sorry." Lady Johnson-Meyer's eyes
seemed to twinkle. "Though I must say that even
without my spectacles I can see very clearly."

The earl ignored the older woman's words and
headed directly for the card table. The game was just
ending, the players leaving the table. Edward tried to
corner Charlotte for a private moment. She gave
him a dazzling smile of welcome that rendered him
nearly speechless, then looped her arms through
her grandfather's and held on as though she would
topple over without Lord Reginald's support.

Declaring a slight headache, Charlotte next bid
everyone good night. His offer of an escort upstairs
was firmly denied. On the surface he accepted her
decision with good humor, but deep inside he felt
an impotent sense of something precious slipping
from his grasp, an almost unreasonable fear of
losing something he had not known he wanted.

Charlotte was very glad to have her grandfather's
escort to her bedchamber. It had been such an unsettling day. She had not set out deliberately to
avoid the earl, but soon discovered it had been
easier to cope when he was not near her. She knew he was puzzled, perhaps even hurt by her actions,
and she regretted it. Yet she also knew it would be
pointless to have a conversation with him when she
did not know her own mind-or as of yet, trust the
feelings in her heart.

She gained the safety of her bedchamber without
further incident and silently congratulated herself
on her clever manipulations. Jones was nowhere in
evidence, so Charlotte moved forward to ring for
her servant.

Her heart jumped when a shadow appeared in
front of her and her hand went reflexively to her
mouth. "Who's there?"

"Don't scream. 'Tis only me," the earl said.

He struck a match. An an oil lamp flared to life
and his handsome features became clearly visibly.

"Grandpapa and I left you in the drawing room,
surrounded by several other guests. How did you
manage to extract yourself from their company and
arrive in my bedchamber before me?"

Edward smiled faintly. "I grew up in this house. I
also have longer, faster legs."

"And thus the advantage."

"Over you?" He smiled broadly, implying the
notion was laughable. "Since there seemed to be no
opportunity during the day, we shall have our conversation now. We need to be making plans, decisions about our future."

"What sort of plans?"

"The obvious ones."

"Marriage?" Charlotte smiled weakly. "Is it truly
necessary?"

His nostrils flared, with either surprise or annoyance. "In this situation it is the appropriate solution. There is certainly no pretending it did not happen.
Nor pretending it will not happen again."

Charlotte felt her face flush with color. "Are you
implying that I am a woman of loose character?"

Edward's visage darkened. I am telling you that
I find you nearly irresistible," he said tartly. "Until
last night, I never suspected that I was capable of
overcoming a lifetime of strict moral training and
behavior to become a seducer of innocents."

His declaration hardly pleased her, especially
since he sounded so annoyed. "You did not seduce
me. Well, not entirely. I lay with you willingly." Charlotte removed her heavy diamond earrings and
placed them on her dressing table. "We cannot
marry simply to soothe your guilty conscience. It is
ludicrous."

His eyes glinted as he ran his gaze over her from
head to toe. "You were innocent and inexperienced.
I was not. Therefore, I feel responsible and as such
am compelled to do the correct and honorable
thing."

"Saints above, Edward, I am not a weak-minded
imbecile. I was not unknowingly seduced. Honestly,
you give yourself and your charms far too much
credit."

He became very quiet and very still. Charlotte had
the absurd thought that he was counting to ten.
Slowly. "I do not know how I will survive being
around you if you continue being so brutally honest,
Charlotte. Your opinions most certainly wreak havoc
on a man's confidence."

A flush of guilt brightened her cheeks. She had
never meant to hurt or insult him. "I will concede
that there are sparks between us."

"Sparks? There is fire."

"Sparks fade," she replied flatly, refusing to remember how tender he had been toward her, how
he made her feel special, wonderful, incredible. He
had cared. But was it enough? She remembered
her feelings of jealousy over his attention to Miss
Dunaway last evening.

As a young girl she had always had difficulty sharing
her toys. As an adult, Charlotte now discovered the
sentiment applied even more strongly to her men.

Her men? Was that what Edward was in her life? Her
man? Her current man? But if he were her current
man, that implied there would eventually be other
men in her life. The idea seemed impossible. How
could she ever share the same sort of intimacy with
anyone else?