The Duke's Indiscretion (25 page)

He sighed and reached down under the covers to lift her leg at the knee, pulling it over his hip so that his thigh caressed her between her legs.

“You're certainly full of questions,” he said softly.

Without light on his face, she couldn't be sure if
he was amused or intentionally trying to be vague.

“So it's a secret you're not willing to share?” she prodded.

“Lottie, Lottie, Lottie…” he said through a sigh. “Do you really want to know?”

Now he had her completely intrigued. “Of course,” she answered, probably too eagerly. “You know how much I adore your secrets.”

“You really are quite enchanting when you want something,” he mused, reaching up to brush stray hair from her cheeks.

“Thank you for the compliment, my handsome duke.” She took his hand and kissed his fingers. “Now tell me why a man of your station, who finds it so easy to charm the ladies, has been reluctant to marry all these years?”

“I was waiting for you,” he answered, amusement lacing his words.

Somehow she knew he'd say that and it warmed her even as her intrigue grew. “Naturally I'm flattered, your grace, but that answer is just too simple and convenient.”

He was quiet for a long moment, studying her in near-blackness. She waited, grazing his shin with her toes.

Finally, he inhaled a deep breath and murmured, “The truth is, my father married my mother at the age of twenty-two. She loved him deeply, but by the age of twenty-five, he'd had enough of her, and chose to bed anything wearing a skirt. I just…didn't want to be like him.”

Charlotte felt her heart swell with tenderness, not from his disclosure, but by the gentleness in his voice,
the honesty he conveyed about something that had obviously affected his childhood.

“Your father didn't love your mother?” she asked softly.

He shrugged a shoulder negligibly and replied, “I don't know, but I don't think love had anything to do with his lust for other women.”

She didn't know how to take that answer exactly. “My parents married by arrangement,” she revealed quietly. “I don't think they were ever in love, but I don't think either one was unfaithful.”

“Charlotte, I don't think that's something you could ever be sure of,” he replied, his voice subdued. “Most people are discreet with their affairs. My father flaunted his.”

A shade of anger had seeped into his tone, and the last thing she wanted to do right now, while they remained centered on each other physically and emotionally, was bring up memories that would make him uncomfortable.

She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling. “Perhaps that's the secret to a good marriage,” she maintained. “If you never expect too much, your heart can never be broken.”

She could feel him staring at her as a lingering silence followed. Then he raised up on his elbow and gazed down at her to get her attention, quiet until she looked into his eyes.

“There is no secret,” he whispered gruffly. “Some people are happy, some are not. I don't think love has much to do with it.”

With a suddenly sinking heart, she replied, “So you don't believe love in marriage matters?”

Even in near-blackness, she noticed a trace of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“That's not exactly what I said.” He lifted his hand and brushed the curls off her forehead with his fingers. “From my observance, there are people who marry for everything but love and remain faithful their entire lives. I don't know why. Then there are those who marry
for
love who stray after only a short time together. Why that happens is anybody's guess, though I don't believe there is any guarantee of faithfulness just because two people have vowed before God to remain so.”

Although she understood, even believed, what he said, something in his cynical attitude still cut her deeply. For the first time since they'd married, Charlotte wanted desperately to know how he felt about her, if he would stray, remain faithful, love her. But she couldn't ask him. Not now.

“So, what does all this have to do with you waiting to marry?” she asked hesitantly.

He watched her for a moment or two, then ran the back of his hand across her cheek.

“I don't think this is the best time to discuss it,” he said gently.

She refused to let him end the conversation there. “Tell me, Colin,” she insisted, her tone hinting at the depth of her concern.

He exhaled a long breath as he placed his palm on her chest, just above her breasts, and began stroking her collarbone with his thumb.

“You know very well of my reputation for romancing the ladies,” he said rather than asked, his voice overflowing with reluctance.

She actually smiled in the darkness. “Yes, Colin, I know.”

He waited, gathering his thoughts, then revealed in a husky murmur, “Much of what is said through the chain of gossips is highly exaggerated. However, I think I just—I think I wanted to rid myself of as much desire for variety as I could before I settled down with one lady.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “The truth is, I didn't want to hurt my wife as my father had hurt my mother.”

Charlotte felt a wonderful peace settle inside her. He'd chosen his words carefully, she realized, in some chivalrous manner of protecting her from the vulgarities related to his bedding others before her. But she'd understood him completely. She worked in the theater day after day, where lust and indecencies were ever present and accepted as part of daily life. She fully recognized how passion could dominate men.

Still, she couldn't deny the tinge of jealousy that shot through her as he acknowledged his former indiscretions. But then, as even he had said, his reputation had always preceded him. More important to her, however, was his conveyance that he didn't intend to cause the pain in their marriage that had so overshadowed his parents'.

She reached out to touch his face, unsure what she could possibly say.

He kissed her palm. “Just remember, my past has nothing to do with us, Charlotte.”

She smiled and countered softly, “It has everything to do with us. But you should know that with each revealing secret you share with me, I grow ever more thankful that you married me.”

He inhaled a shaky breath. Then with a quickness that defied the action, he hoisted her on top of him, one palm on her bare bottom, caressing her lightly, the other brushing her curly hair from her face.

“Beautiful Lottie,” he whispered, his eyes melding into hers. “There is no woman on earth more perfect for me than you.”

She wanted to cry, from his words, the sincerity flowing through his words. Instead, she leaned over and placed her lips on his, drowning out everything but the moment.

C
olin entered Charlotte's dressing room unnoticed, then closed the door very softly behind him, his now-completed forgery tucked into the long sock covering his right leg. Quickly, he walked to the wardrobe closet and opened it, looking for one of the boxes of music that could be easily opened, leading to an easy discovery.

He selected the first of the four boxes he noticed at waist level and pulled it out. He then placed it on the floor, knelt beside it, and lifted the lid.

The contents revealed two rows of various kinds of vocal music, from sheets to books, all rather dusty, some old, though at first look, none of it appeared to be organized by any logical means.

After a fast glance over his shoulder to verify once more that he was alone, and hearing nothing beyond the closed door that might signal an interruption, he lifted his trouser leg to the knee, carefully lowered his sock, and pulled out all six pages of his first
forged musical masterpiece. That done, he dropped the music on top of the others until he once again straightened his sock and trousers, then took the sheets and righted them, making sure they were placed in order.

Knowing time remained valuable, he immediately chose what Charlotte had described as a
vocalise,
a book of vocal exercises, and opened it to the third page before placing the forgery inside. Certain that it would be both hidden and yet easy to find if one were determined, he then returned the book to the box, this time standing it upright with a stack of loose music so that about a half an inch of the forged paper stuck out noticeably from the book itself, though blended with the other sheets in its vicinity.

He then stood, pulled out another box, and switched the two in the wardrobe so that the box containing the forgery would be second from the top, less obvious to anyone searching to steal it.

A sudden knock startled him into action. As fast as he closed the wardrobe doors, the one at the entrance to the dressing room opened and Sadie stuck her head inside.

“Lottie?” she called out, her face covered in cosmetics in preparation for their final dress rehearsal before opening night. Then her painted brows rose in surprise. “Your grace?”

Heart pounding, Colin planted a grin on his face and tried to look sheepish. “Anne Balstone came to get her a few minutes ago,” he said. “I think the director wanted to see her at once.”

“Oh…of course. I forgot he was looking for her,”
she replied with a satisfied smile as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. “I thought she would be here dressing.”

He didn't believe that for a minute, mostly from instinct. She'd found exactly who she wanted, though he played along with her desire to confront him with Lottie clearly otherwise engaged.

“I see you're ready for rehearsal to begin,” he remarked with a nod to her attire.

She glanced down her body, her palms deliberately smoothing her servant girl costume at her waist. “Yes, well, I'm confident with my part and anxious to get the production under way.” She began to sashay toward him, her hands on her hips. “What are
you
doing in here, your grace?”

Colin hadn't expected to discuss the music with her until later, perhaps not until opening night, after he'd figured out exactly how to introduce the topic without sounding obvious. But her sudden appearance provided him an excellent opportunity—as long as his wife didn't walk in and discover them.

“Just…waiting for Lottie to return,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck as she approached him.

“I think you were looking for her rare music instead,” she counted coyly, her painted lips tipped up at one end.

He chuckled, dropping his hands to his sides. “You're a very clever woman.”

“Can I help?” she offered, standing very close to him now.

Although it would be a prime opportunity to find out how much Sadie knew, he nonetheless hesitated, again concerned that Charlotte would walk in and
he'd be stumped for words. The scene would no doubt confuse his wife since having Sadie look for the music with him wasn't part of their plan.

“Don't worry,” the Frenchwoman fairly purred, evidently reading his thoughts. “Lottie and Mr. Barrington-Graham will be in deep discussion until rehearsal begins. We have some time.”

“You can't be certain of that,” he replied, purposely glancing to the door.

She laughed softly. “Yes, I can. Because she has also been invited to sing in Florence, and he'll want to discuss her impending departure for Italy. The particulars have become more complex.”

That startling information caught him off guard, troubling him deeply, and he frowned. “Are you sure?”

She looked insulted. “Of course I'm sure.”

“How is it that you know of these invitations before she does?”

She nonchalantly rubbed her breasts against his chest, gazing into his eyes with raw appreciation. “I look and I listen, Colin. Trust me when I tell you that I know everything that happens in this theater.”

He didn't doubt that at all, but more to the point, if Sadie's information was indeed correct, Charlotte would be even more tempted to travel abroad and he wasn't certain she could ever let such an opportunity slip through her fingers.

Tugging his thoughts back to the gravity of the moment, he ignored Sadie's sexual overtures and replied huskily, “Then we do, indeed, have a bit of time to search.”

Just as she looked ready to draw him into another long kiss, he turned around and opened the wardrobe door. She sighed, but apparently decided to forgo an embrace for a possible fortune. That was, of course, if she actually had outside information about the music and would likewise know a priceless masterpiece if she saw it, and Colin still contended that she did, and would.

“I've already checked the first box,” he said, lifting the one on top to give her access to the next. “I didn't see anything important, though I'm not sure what valuable music looks like.”

She reached for the second box and pulled it out easily. “I will certainly recognize rare music if it's here,” she replied confidently.

He didn't offer comment as she placed the box containing the forgery on the floor, knelt before it, and quickly lifted the lid.

He'd hid it well, he decided, but as he didn't want to lead her, he began sifting through the music still laying flat, allowing her the opportunity to start with the stack he'd left standing.

They searched for a minute or two, he pretending to be entirely ignorant, she completely engrossed in her effort.

“How do you know she hid it in her dressing room?” she asked without looking at him.

He lifted his shoulders negligibly. “I don't. But I heard she possesses priceless music, and my guess is she'll want to sell it before she travels abroad. And what better place to store it than with other music?”

“You don't think she would keep it at home?”

“It's possible, I suppose.” He paused for effect,
then replied, “But it would make more sense to hide it more or less in the open, where nobody would suspect.”

“I see,” she muttered as she finally neared the book of vocal practice. “A thief would never think to look with the music she uses every day.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“And she is here every day, so it is always with her,” she added.

“Right again,” he returned as gentle praise.

She glanced up and grinned at him. “You still haven't told me how you came to learn of this rare music.”

He sat on the ground as if discouraged with his own progress, watching her. “I heard she received it as a parting gift from a vocal instructor years ago.”

Sadie stilled for the slightest second, then returned to her assessment the music at her fingertips, amusement fading from her features as she neared the
vocalise.

“Heard that from whom?”

He had to think quickly. “From a drunken peer at a very lucky game of cards.”

She shot him a quick, sideways glance, her forehead creased. “A member of the peerage?”

“Indeed, though I don't now recall his name.”

“I see.” At last she pulled the book out from the stack. “What do you plan to do with the music if you find it, Colin?”

His gut tightened the moment she opened it to the third page and began to skim the forgery.

“I don't know, Sadie,” he replied as evenly as he could. “Maybe keep it for my personal collection.
Maybe sell it. What would you do?”

Cautiously, she turned the pages one by one. “I…would probably sell it, depending on the value.” She looked up into his face, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “If one could easily sell something deemed priceless.”

His heart nearly stopped beating as she studied him with a calculating expression.

And then suddenly he had his answer as she abruptly closed the music book and replaced it, reaching for another.

Clever girl.
“I'm sure it can be sold,” he argued, his mouth unnaturally dry. He groaned for effect. “I just wish I knew precisely what I was looking for.”

She patted his thigh, then caressed it. “Not to worry, Colin. If it's here, I'll know it.”

For another few moments she continued scrutinizing the remainder of the music in the box, then finally replaced it all into a neat stack and sat back on her heels.

“Unfortunately, I don't see anything in this box that strikes me as rare or priceless,” she remarked through a sigh.

“Are you certain you'd know if you saw it?” he asked once more, giving her a final time for truth.

She looked into his eyes and smiled. “If it's very old, or composed by a master, then yes.” Leaning toward him, she whispered, “I'm very good at what I do, Colin.”

He grinned slyly. “I've no doubt, Sadie.”

Thankfully, the sound of female voices on the other side of the door startled them in to action.
Colin jumped to his feet and lifted the box, stacking it quickly, then stepping back as Sadie closed the wardrobe door.

 

Charlotte knew Colin waited for her in her dressing room, and since she hadn't seen Sadie since she left Walter's office, she suspected the woman was with him.

She trusted her husband wholeheartedly, and yet she couldn't deny the slight edge of doubt and even jealousy she felt just knowing they were together and alone. She could only hope he'd had the time to hide the forgery, and if not, that he hadn't undressed for the woman she no longer considered a friend. But she didn't think that likely. Not after the magical way he made love to her.

Nearing her dressing room door, she greeted Anne and two other ladies in the cast, pausing only long enough to let them know Walter was on his way and rehearsal would begin shortly, then turned the handle and walked in.

The sight of her husband huddled so closely to Sadie disturbed her momentarily, though she managed to act as if seeing them together meant nothing. Sadie looked contrite, but Colin admired her up and down as if undressing her with his eyes, a thought she found amusing since she wore costuming, heavy cosmetics, and a wig.

“Your grace,” she said with a slight curtsy. “Sadie.”

She left the door ajar and slowly walked inside. “What are you doing in here?” she asked pleasantly, hoping her husband would have an answer for the question.

Sadie stepped in front of him. “I was just looking for you, Lottie, to let you know we're on in less than ten minutes.” She glanced over her shoulder. “His grace and I were just chatting about music.”

“Music?” She raised her arms to adjust her wig as she walked to her vanity. “I hope I'm not interrupting.”

“Of course not, Lottie love,” Colin replied, his voice laced with amusement. “You look spectacular, as always.”

Charlotte peered at him through the mirror, fighting a grin and using as much strength as possible to keep from blurting that he really, really couldn't act very well.

“Thank you, sir,” she said blandly, lighting the lamp next to her cosmetic case.

An awkward moment passed. Then Sadie cleared her throat.

“Well, I think I'll be on my way,” she said breezily, fairly waltzing toward the door. “See you on the stage, Lottie.”

“I'll be there shortly,” she replied, gazing at her face in the mirror.

As soon as the door clicked shut from the Frenchwoman's departure, she whirled around to face him. “What happened?” she whispered, moving to his side.

He grinned. “She knows. She saw it and didn't say a word of its worth.”

Hands on hips, she eyed him skeptically. “You don't suppose she knew it was a forgery, do you?”

He looked at her aghast. Then he grinned again as he reached out and grabbed the yoke of her costume,
yanking her against him.

“You saw it,” he teased. “Did
you
think it looked original?”

She wrapped her arm around his neck. “You have a point, my darling, and if I thought it looked original, she surely did, too. But why on earth did you show it to her now?”

Colin dropped his hands to her waist, scanning her entire face. “Your cosmetics have transformed you into the bewitching minx.”

She laughed softly, then scolded him. “Answer my question, you insufferable man.”

He shrugged a shoulder negligibly. “I'd just hidden it when she walked in unannounced and asked me what I was doing.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then added, “I'm afraid I had to improvise.”

She pulled back a little, her expression growing serious once more. “But even if she now knows, it's quite possible she's not working with anyone and you've just given away a secret treasure she'll simply want to steal herself.”

“I've already considered that.”

Raising her brows with skepticism, she asked, “You have?”

“I have indeed, and that's why I'm going to take it out again.”