The Christmas Heiress (4 page)

Of course there were several married women in the
party, and three dowagers, to lend an air of respectability. The older women rode together in an
open carriage, their legs covered in heavy blankets,
their heads covered in fur hats. Everyone else traveled
on foot.

However, when they reached the edge of the
woods, the carriage was unable to follow on the
narrow path. Those on foot were organized into
four groups and Charlotte found herself in the
party comprised of the Chambers sisters, Lord
Edward, Jonathan and Lord Haddon, the pleasant
viscount she had danced with last evening, who was
reputed to be sweet on Miranda Chambers.

With Lord Edward in the lead, they walked in
companionable silence as they entered the thickest
part of the woods. Sunlight glittered through the
canopy of bare interlaced branches, creating a mystical atmosphere. Privately, Charlotte thought it was
wonderfully romantic. Luxuriating in her surroundings, she slowed her pace and breathed deeply.

"We should probably find a Yule log first," Lord
Edward said. "Though we will of course decorate an
evergreen tree, my father prefers the older traditions and it usually takes the gardeners hours to
find a Yule log he deems suitable."

Everyone nodded in understanding, then set
themselves eagerly to the assigned task.

"There." Miss Elizabeth Chambers pointed to a
fallen branch. "How about that one?"

Jonathan went over to inspect her choice. "Much
too small," he decided. "The log must be wide
enough to fill the hall hearth and solid enough to
burn for days."

"Is this a better choice?" Charlotte called out merrily. She had hoisted herself onto the base of a fallen
tree trunk and settled comfortably in the center.
Her feet dangling, she swung them back and forth,
feeling quite pleased with her discovery.

"Clever girl," Lord Edward said with an approving smile. He came up beside her and patted the
log to test the soundness of the wood. "I will send
out the gardeners with a cart and a team of horses
to fetch it. Once they cut it to the proper size it will
be perfect."

"It will burn until spring," Miranda Chambers
said with a shy grin. "Excellent find, Miss Aldridge."

"Thank you." Charlotte was warmed by the com-
pli ment, which was sincerely given.

"Now on to the mistletoe," Jonathan exclaimed,
hopping onto the log and walking carefully along
its length. "It grows best and fullest in the tops of
the older oak trees. I shall retrieve a choice specimen to show all of you what we need."

"No, that honor will be mine," Lord Edward declared in a voice that let them all know he would
not be put to shame by his younger brother.

"I'll take a piece of that challenge," Viscount
Haddon said, not to be outdone. "Though I have
not done so since I was a lad, I still remember how
to climb a tree."

The gauntlet thrown, each man turned in different directions and started off on their quest, leaving the
women standing alone. The three women stared at
each other for a quick moment and then also scattered. Miss Miranda dogged the viscount's heels, and
without hesitation Charlotte took off behind Lord
Edward. With a philosophical shrug, Miss Elizabeth
trooped behind Jonathan.

The fingers inside Charlotte's gloves tingled from
the cold, her cheeks and nose felt tight and nearly
numb, yet she could not remember the last time
she had had so much fun out of doors. The sun had
disappeared and the sky had darkened considerably, making her wonder if it truly would snow, as
everyone had hoped.

Lord Edward seemed unaware that she was
behind him. Fearing she might get separated,
Charlotte kept her eyes pinned to the many capes
of his dark green greatcoat and did her best to keep
up with his long strides. But it was difficult.

She was very thankful indeed when he suddenly
stopped, though she nearly plowed into his broad
back.

"Miss Aldridge! How thoughtless of me. You
should have yelled at me to slacken my pace."

He put out his arms to steady her and Charlotte
grasped them, even though her balance was not
threatened.

"Ladies do not yell, Lord Edward," Charlotte said
in a steady voice. "Besides, I am unsure you would
have heard me if I had been so vulgar as to screech.
Your mind is exclusively focused upon the task at
hand. Apparently, you are taking this lighthearted
competition rather seriously."

He shrugged. "'Tis the way of men."

"And small boys."

He had the grace to smile. Charlotte decided she
liked the way his eyes sparkled with amusement and
crinkled in the corners. It was very attractive.

"Take my hand," he commanded. "I do not want
to lose you."

"I would never allow that to happen, sir," Charlotte replied with a flirty smile as she set her hand
in his outstretched one.

He seemed different. Gone was his customary
quiet dignity, gone was the cautious attitude she remembered so well when he was a boy. His eyes were
bright with animation, his face flushed from the cold
and exercise, his manner commanding and determined. He looked virile and handsome and incredibly appealing. Winter, and challenges, suited him.

Charlotte wondered briefly if this change had
anything to do with the sips of brandy she had seen
him taking from his silver flask, but she quickly discarded the notion. It was the spirit of the competition that brought out the transformation.

They walked past a thicket of holly bushes and
came to a cluster of stately oak trees. Charlotte
tipped back her head to scan the upper branches,
unsure if she would be able to see any mistletoe
from this great distance. She turned to ask Lord
Edward's opinion and discovered he was not looking up into the tree. He was staring at her.

"You are an extremely lovely woman, Miss Aldridge,"
he said in a surprised tone, as though he had just
realized it.

She snapped her eyes up to his and caught her
breath. He took a step closer and her eyes widened.
Then he raised the hand he still held in his own up to his mouth and pressed his lips against the tips of
her gloved fingers. His amber-gold eyes were sharp
beneath the lazy lids. She gazed into them and then
reached over and removed her glove so he could
repeat the gesture on her bare flesh. He willingly
complied.

Charlotte sighed, feeling the delicate press of his
lips all the way to her toes. Parts of her body that had
been chilled in the cold winter air were now heating
with warmth. It was the most romantic moment of
her life and she felt herself slowly slipping toward a
host of new and wonderful sensations.

Was this how seduction felt? It seemed as if the
functions of her mind were now dominated by the
feeling coursing through her body. Delightful, exciting, forbidden feelings. And if she leaned forward just a bit ...

"Oh, look," she whispered in a breathy tone. "You
have found the mistletoe. We are standing beneath it."

He gazed skyward for the briefest instant. "So we
are." He laughed. The deep, rich baritone of mirth
sent a shiver of anticipation down Charlotte's spine.

"That means you must kiss me," she demanded.

"And so I shall."

He spun her behind the large oak tree. Charlotte's back met the rough solid tree trunk the same
moment Lord Edward's lips descended upon hers.

Warmth invaded every fiber of her being. At first
he kissed her with playful bites and nips. She tried
to imitate his actions, and then his hands adjusted
the angle of her head, holding her in place. The
pressure of his mouth increased as the tip of his
tongue played with hers.

Charlotte struggled to control her breathing. His lips were hot and restless, a temptation she was
powerless to resist. Her knees began to weaken, yet
she kissed him back, willingly allowing the wondrous sensations to wash over her.

The next kiss was a passionate caress of lips and
tongue that filled Charlotte with unfamiliar pulsing
heat and need. Something primal within her stirred
and her entire body tingled. She slid her arms
around Edward's neck to keep herself upright. He
was solid and lean and muscular and it felt so good
to be pressed tightly against his strength.

They kissed again and this time she felt the force
of his response. It thrilled her to realize she was capable of inciting such passion within him. She
could not seem to stop herself from touching him,
running one hand over the broad contours of his
back while the other gripped his upper arm, fingertips digging into the hard muscle of his biceps.

He pushed her bonnet aside and began to nibble
on the sensitive flesh below her earlobe. Charlotte
squealed with delight. Closing her eyes, she arched
her neck in invitation, nearly swooning when she
felt Edward's lips feathering a trail of kisses down
her throat.

His tongue stroked into the tiny hollow just above
the neckline of her gown and a new urgency ignited
within her. His warm breath had her squirming
against the tree trunk, restless with anticipation. She
was trembling, her head was spinning, her heart was
racing and she never wanted it to stop.

When she felt him begin to draw away, Charlotte
caught the lapels of his coat, pulled him forward and
brought his lips back to hers. Edward groaned and
kissed her back, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Charlotte tasted heat and passion and a slight trace
of brandy. He moved his lips and tongue boldly and
a raw sensation jolted her body. She swayed toward
him as another burst of heat slid into her breasts, her
womb and down between her thighs.

Each press of his lips, each seeking thrust of his
tongue sent a lick of desire coursing through her,
heating her flesh, weakening her limbs. His hand
moved lower and cupped a breast, stroking the
nipple with his thumb. Even through the layers of
heavy clothing, Charlotte could feel the tip peak
and distend.

She felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment, but
then he did it again and her embarrassment disappeared as the sensations overtook her. He made
her feel beautiful, desirable, powerful. Charlotte
arched toward his touch and then caught her lip in
her teeth to bite back a groan of pleasure.

"Edward! Miss Aldridge! Are you there?"

It was Jonathan's voice. The words registered in
her brain, but Charlotte was loath to acknowledge
the call. If she did, then this magical moment
would end. Apparently, Edward felt the same, for
he lifted his lips to her ear and whispered, "Shhh,
do not utter a sound."

She nodded. They waited in silence for a long
minute, hearing no additional calls. Edward's arms
slackened their grip and Charlotte eased herself away.
She leaned against the tree trunk and closed her eyes,
trying to stop the pounding of her heart. She felt him
move farther away from her, but could still dimly hear
his breath coming as hard and heavy as her own.

Merciful heavens! So that was passion, that was desire. It was indescribably marvelous and far more magical
than I ever imagined.

Charlotte licked her swollen lips, drew a deep
breath and opened her eyes. Edward was staring at
her, his eyes so fiery with passion she nearly felt
singed. The daylight cast a glow on his face, outlining the masculine planes and hollows. Her heart
skipped a beat. He looked so unbearably handsome,
it brought a flood of emotional tears to her eyes.

"Are you all right?"

Charlotte slowly smiled. "What? Oh, yes, I am
fine. Perfectly fine."

"Good." An undefinable emotion shone in his
eyes, but Charlotte was too pleased with herself to
give it much thought.

"We had best get back before they send out a
larger search party," he said.

"What about the mistletoe?"

He groaned. "As long as we are here, I suppose I
should retrieve some."

With athletic grace, he swung up into the branches
of the tree. He climbed steadily higher and Charlotte's gaze never left his solid frame. Her skin tingled
with the memory of his kisses and the savage way he
had brought their mouths together so impatiently.
It had been heavenly, and even more enticing was the
knowledge that kissing wasjust the beginning.

By the time Edward had returned to the ground
with a sizable armful of mistletoe, Charlotte was
more than ready for another round of kisses. And
anything else he cared to teach her.

"How lovely," she exclaimed. Charlotte reached
for a cluster of mistletoe, fully intending to hold it over her head, but Edward held the bunches close
to his chest, out of her reach.

"We need to find the others," he said.

Though she wanted to protest, Charlotte knew
he was right. She offered her hand and he hesitated only a moment before taking it. At his touch,
a surge of profound emotions welled up inside
Charlotte.

So this is love.

There was seldom a time when Edward Barringer's conscience bothered him. He was a man of
breeding, of honor, of character, and he prided
himself on endorsing and upholding the many
standards of decency and following the civilized
rules of society with ease.

This afternoon he had broken those rules. He
had kissed an innocent young woman he had no serious intentions toward, had allowed the passion of
his body to overrule the common sense of his
mind. With Charlotte Aldridge, no less.

Why her, of all the females available? True, she
had been aggressive in her pursuit of him, but that
was nothing new. Women often paid undue attention to him. When he walked into a ballroom, many
female heads turned to regard him, both the young
unmarried misses and their matchmaking mothers.

He was not offended by their frank appraisal, nor
was he conceited by this attention. He was a practical, pragmatic man who understood the true source
of their interest was not his person, but rather his
title, his lineage, his place in society. It was the way the upper classes had married for centuries and he
found no outward fault with the practice.