The heat of embarrassment again crept into Charlotte’s cheeks. She whispered, “Touching myself.”
“Touching—Oh!” Belle’s head fell back, peals of laughter ringing as she held a hand to her stomach.
Charlotte glanced nervously at open door of the parlor.
“Fabulous! I mean, what are the odds?”
“Careful, your penchant for gaming is showing.” Charlotte’s lips pressed together at her friend’s enjoyment of an embarrassing moment.
“Seriously, Char. ’Tis not like you do that every night. Or do you?” Her friend paused her chuckles to peer at her.
Charlotte shook her head. “Of course not.” She cocked her head. “Well, except this week.”
Belle went off into cackles again.
“Enough, please.”
“Only if you tell me the rest. What did you do?”
Charlotte sighed and gave in, outlining how she took control of the situation to bring them both to completion without sullying any purity he might have. “Belle, he hasn’t even reached his majority. I could not...”
“You recall I told you the family may be in financial trouble?”
Charlotte considered William’s question about her steam engine investment in a new light.
“Here is the best part—” Belle leaned in. “My sources tell me that his mother does much of the work to keep the estate in hand. You can see why he’d be willing to follow a strong woman, even in the bedroom.” Her grin threatened to split her face.
Charlotte slumped. This might be harder than she thought.
* * * *
Three days later, Charlotte still had not found the proper words to keep the rakelet away. Each day, she’d sat down with the letter and a piece of foolscap and pen to reply, but ended up staring at the blank page for long minutes before giving up.
She suspected her subconscious was doing exactly what Belle thought it was, but she felt powerless to stop it. However, she kept her window casing closed and her clothes on, and read herself to sleep each night. She’d even begun bringing a glass of sherry up to drink while she read, in hopes it would help her sleep. Nothing worked.
Unlike the previous year, this summer had some warm days and nights. This day was particularly nice and she decided to enjoy the weather. Strolling the back garden, she hoped to find peace in the sun’s warmth and the flowers’ beauty.
Her book was tucked under one hand, but she was too distracted to read. She was frustrated at herself. Either she did not want him to come, in which case she should be able to write a note to that effect, or she wanted him to come and was upset because he hadn’t. Neither scenario pleased her.
After several circles on the garden path, she sat on a stone bench and opened her book, determined not to let William disturb her further.
Only to bounce up when the butler stepped out to announce a visitor—Lord Stanton.
Bowing her head for a moment, she chastised herself. Her stalling had been her way of seeing him without admitting that she wanted to. “Show him out here, please, Austin.”
“Good morning, Mistress. You look gorgeous in the sunlight, as you always do.”
“William—I mean Lord Stanton.”
“I found myself unable to wait for your reply to my note any longer. I do apologize, Mistress, for my lack of patience and for visiting unannounced. I happened to have an hour free and the weather was lovely enough that it was worth a stroll to see if I could catch you at home. How can I make it up to you?”
Her heart pounded at his deliberate insertion of her honorific, then again at his question. That phrase might be the death of her. Every time he said it, she ended up doing something naughty. Worse, she suspected he knew that and used it intentionally.
He did not wait for an answer, instead joining her in front of the bench. He gestured for her to sit.
She did, expecting him to sit by her as he did that first night.
Instead, he went to one knee before her on the stone path. That couldn’t be comfortable, but a spurt of warmth flared in her belly at the sight of a young man in his prime on his knees before her.
