Belle’s eyes widened, her brows close to her hairline. “My word, rather brave for a ‘baby,’ no? Was this before or after the salon?”
“After.”
“Let’s see,” Belle said, ticking each sentence off a finger as she summarized them. “You meet, whereupon you tie him up. Then you meet again at a lecture and he shows respect for your interest in learning. Then he pays a late-night impromptu visit via the window during which you apparently see his cock, which we’ll get to in a minute. Do I have the salient points?”
“Well, yes. And we talked about Homer, and he sent me this letter.” She passed it over. “But Belle, he’s a puppy!”
The other woman held a finger up, head bent to scan the missive.
“My word. He references the cravat incident? Or did you bind him again in your bedroom?” She glanced up and smirked as Charlotte’s face grew hotter.
“Oh, I cannot wait to hear this. But first—” she glanced down at the letter again. “He then asks—nay, begs—to earn time, only to turn around and tell you he’s likely to misbehave?” She folded the letter and fanned herself with it. “I want him. If you decide not to keep him, can I have him? Pretty please?”
It was Charlotte’s turn to roll her eyes. “Stop it. I am serious. I came because I need help, not to titillate you, for heaven’s sake. Give me that!” She snatched the letter back mid-fan.
“Right. Sorry.” A dimple flashing belied the apology. “How can I help, dear? Did you need me to loan you some leather restraints? Did you dispose of yours?”
Charlotte never thought she’d laugh at a sentence with those words, but a chuckle escaped her. “No, you ninny. He’s a child—of an earl. I shan’t corrupt him, and I shan’t encourage his infatuation. I need to know how to get rid of him. To do that, it would help to know a bit more about him.” She looked askance at the beautiful font of knowledge before her.
“I am happy to share what I know, but I must hear more about this window and cock incident, and there is no way I will encourage you to dismiss him. Aanndd…please do not refer to it as corruption. Expanding his horizons, maybe. Educating him, certainly. There is nothing corrupt between two willing participants.”
Charlotte nodded, ceding the point about corruption. That was something both women and Charles had always agreed on. However, that might not apply. “Since I’ve never discussed it with him, I’m not sure I can call him willing.”
“He visited after you tied him up and then wrote asking for more when you did it again. I think between that and whatever happened with his cock-sighting, we can assume he was.” The emphasis on the last few words indicated her friend was impatient with her prudishness.
She conceded that her worries over his age might have clouded her judgment on his willingness. Waving the folded note, she said, “I hope to avoid him until he returns to Oxford.”
“But you don’t plan to send a reply?”
“No.”
“Mmm.” Belle sipped her tea.
“What?” Charlotte narrowed her eyes at her friend. Noncommittal answers from Belle were never a good sign.
“Nothing.”
“Belle, your ‘mmms’ are never nothing.” She dipped her chin and looked at her friend from under her brows.
“Well, he is no doubt going to climb in your window again or find another way to see you privately if you do not provide a good alternative or order him to cease. As you are not offering either of those responses, I suspect you want to see what he does. Which leads me to ask—what happened in your bedroom?”
Charlotte gaped at her, her thoughts in chaos, rejecting Belle’s statement. She wanted him to stop. Gracious, he was still in university. She wanted a partner to spend time with, but not marriage and certainly not pressure to produce children.
Recalling the cravat, the stockings, and his blatant invitation for more in his letter, she reeled.
Spend time tying and controlling, you mean. Perhaps you could do that with him.
Spend time gathering knowledge and learning the world, you mean. Perhaps he would do that with you.
The sinister voice in her head would not stop, and it still sounded like Belle, darn her. But the issue of heirs remained an unsurmountable barrier.
Her friend sipped her tea, sitting back.
Charlotte knew this game. Belle could outwait her. She sighed. Not ready to address the rest of what Belle had raised, she might as well share the humiliating circumstances of his visit.
“He, er, interrupted me.”
Two lines appeared between Belle’s brows. She tilted her head. “Interrupted you doing what?”
