She gasped, staring at him open-mouthed. Such entreaty was a level of power play she had not experienced or even desired, at least until her vision of a few minutes ago. But the thrill that shot through her now, pointing her nipples and wetting her core, made her wonder why she hadn’t put him there sooner.
The puppy dared to slide his hand under her skirt, to skim it up her leg.
She stepped back, frowning. “I beg your pardon. What is the golden rule?”
His hand dropped to his lap and his smile fell. He bent his head to stare at it and muttered, “My apologies, Mistress. No touching without permission.”
“I should deny you all requests after that. I’m very disappointed in you, puppy.” But then she heard herself continue, “But as it happens, I find the day quite hot, and am in need of an ice.”
His head snapped up, his brows high in hope. “Truly, Mistress?”
She sighed. This was a bad idea, but she could not regret it when seeing his reaction. Ah well, there would be time for kneeling later.
“Truly. But do not think to avoid punishment for that transgression.”
He leaped to his feet in one smooth bounce. “I know just the place. ’Tis out of the way, you shan’t be too uncomfortable. Come, let us go now, please, Mistress!”
And so they went. He held the door for her, then they perused the list of choices side by side.
The shop assistant strolled over to hover in front of the attractive lordling puppy. Simpering, she leaned forward and asked, “My lord, what can I get you?”
“Please serve the lady first.”
“Oh!” Her glance flicked between them several times. Her voice conveyed confusion when she continued. “I did not realize you came together.”
Stricken, Charlotte considered their appearance. She’d replenished only part of her wardrobe after deciding to socialize again as a widow, and her clothing and bonnet were conservative. She also hadn’t anticipated an outing; her day dress was on the plain side. His clean-shaven face made him appear even younger than his years, and his enthusiasm added to his youthful mien.
Unable to answer, she took a hasty step back when William reached for her. Turning blindly, she somehow found the door, the step, and even a hackney cab.
William followed, talking in a low voice, apologizing.
Her jaw was locked to keep from screaming, crying, shouting. Anger roiled in her, wanting to erupt. Not at him, but at herself. Just as she’d thought she’d been ready for balls after mourning Charles, she’d believed she was prepared for the gossip. But the stab of pain she’d felt at the stranger’s reaction told her just how far she’d fallen in love with her rakelet. She’d just wanted to please him in return for his well-thought-out gifts throughout the summer.
Still silent, she climbed in the hack, barring his way when he moved to follow her. Her pulse pounded in her temples. The chit likely thought she was a spinster aunt he was being kind to. At least the girl would not spread gossip; she’d avoid painful questions. Gracious,she’djudged him when he’d first approached her, knowing it was inappropriate even as she fought her attraction to him. Above all, she might have been able to get past all that, if not for his need of heirs. The whole escapade made her feel woefully inadequate and despondent.
Biting her lip to avoid crying in public, she told herself that it would have been over in a matter of days anyway. With this, at least he understood why she’d resisted and would not contact her. He’d get on with university, find someone his age, and enjoy his life. If she’d taught him a technique or two that he enjoyed in the future, perhaps he’d remember her fondly, as she would him.
Stumbling out of the conveyance, she made it inside and told her staff to lock all doors and windows. Their concerned looks changed to sympathy when she added that she was not at home to visitors, even Belle and most certainly Lord Stanton.
Unable to deal with their pity, she took to her bed for the day, pulling the covers over her and clutching the heart pendant around her neck. Like losing Charles, the abrupt, unexpected loss left her reeling. The worst part was that this one could have been avoided. She’d known better.
Despite her wishes, the girl’s questioning look played on repeat in her head, bringing tears anew every time. She knew the next day and the day after that, and all the days following would be forever marred by his absence.
Chapter Seventeen
Every day until his family retired to the country, William attempted to see Charlotte, trying every avenue he could think of.
He did not care about what a silly shop assistant had to say. He…cared about her. He hadn’t dared tell her, then that foolish girl had to be, well, foolish.
Frantic and furious—at the shop worker, at himself, at the unfairness of society’s rules—he checked the front door, the back gate, her window, everything. He sent gifts daily—books, flowers, even chocolates, which he’d never seen her eat. In one wild moment, he contemplated asking Folly if she was a client to see if Folly could fake a delivery. But he would never betray his Mistress’s confidence, nor would he want to place Folly in a position that could jeopardize his income.
He returned home and stewed, his anger overriding his frustration. Stupid, immature puppy, I had to try for a public outing.He’d wanted to show her off out of pride that she chose to be with him. And with the clarity of hindsight, he saw his goal had been to prove to her that they might continue their relationship after the summer. Instead, he’d reinforced her beliefs.
As his days in London dwindled, desolation at the loss of those last evenings with his Mistress plagued him most of all.
Time ran out, and he was forced to pack and leave for the estate without having any chance to apologize or make it up to her, or even attempt to negotiate the idea he’d had fermenting—encouraging her to continue her Latin studies with his help from university via correspondence, another idea he’d borrowed from Ovid’sArs amatoria. He packed the books, gave the chocolates to his sister, and began crafting letters to her in his head during the carriage ride.
Once in the country, he was too busy for much of anything except handling estate business: resolving conflicts, managing the books, and writing correspondence until he left and his mother and cousin had to take over.
