They had formatted the agreement with no payments due until a few of his other investments matured—or, in the case of the shipping group investment Charlotte had encouraged him to join, provided a return. She had not yet received word from their man of business of the next quarterly payout, but William had. And the successful arrival of more than enough ships to meet the investment pool’s requirement was what he had needed.
He dragged her out of her chair, bouncing on his toes while she donned a pelisse, and marched her down to the financial manager’s office. There, they both signed the loan document as paid in full, to be held and filed by the manager.
William had sped them back to her house where they retired upstairs for a celebration, complete with champagne he’d brought. He deemed it a no-clothes-allowed party and it became quite rowdy. They’d needed a servant to change the sheets before they could sleep that night. The bed linens had been soaked in spilled champagne from them sipping it off their favorite spots on each other.
Now as she stood in the tea shop reviewing everything, Charlotte nodded. She was ready to choose him. To spend her life with her puppy. There was no doubt he loved her and was impatient to start that life together. They had his family’s support. But given the dynamics of their relationship and recent events, she suspected he was loath to push her too hard.
It was time for the Mistress to make her feelings known and direct him as she loved to do. Her relationship with Charles had begun quite differently. But who she was now, so dissimilar to her nine-and-ten-year-old self, was in large part due to Charles’s love. The whole situation was unique, and she rather thought Charles would find this approach amusing.
She tucked her pendant inside her dress, pressed her lips together, and crinkled her brows to make lines form on her forehead and around her mouth. Her clothing choices had been deliberate—a more conservative dress with an older style coat and hat—to appear more matronly. If this scheme did not work, she’d think of another.
“Madame, what can I get you and your son?” the shop assistant fell right into her hands.
William stiffened, having turned to shut the door after entering. He whirled and took a breath to correct the girl.
The young woman looked surprised at his countenance. Regardless, it was the opening Charlotte needed. Snaking her elbow back, she gave him a gentle jab and took a half-step forward.
“Thank you. I shall have one of those miniature cakes please. And this”—she gestured to William—“is not my son. He is the Earl of Harrington, and I am the future Countess of Harrington.” She lowered her chin, raised her brows, and stared at the girl, afraid to look around at William. This might be the boldest act of her life, even more than tying a strange puppy’s wrists in the garden of a ball. Nerves raced along her skin, raising gooseflesh on her arms, as she waited for both of their reactions.
“I beg your pardon,” the girl said, wide eyes ricocheting between her two patrons.
“Mistress—” William’s gasped whisper underlaid the girl’s apology. But he stopped on that word.
She turned to see him sway and grabbed his arm, alarmed.
He shook his head once to clear it, then swung his hand around, reversing their grip to hold her arm. Turning her to face him, he whisper-yelled, “Truly, Mistress?!”
“Quiet, please.” She kept her voice low but gave him a wide grin. “Yes, William. I’ve chosen my cake, and I’ve chosen you. Now, I’d like my cake, and then you may take me home and shout at me all you’d like.”
“Shout? I shall dance, I shall cry.” He turned to the worker, grabbed the cake, and thrust several coins at her, never letting go of Charlotte’s arm with the other hand. He dragged her out to the street, hustling them along at a near-run.
“Puppy, really now. You know the rules about touching without permission. Dragging me about the street warrants a further punishment.” She was reveling now. She’d done it.They’ddone it. He was hers to keep, they just had to work out the logistics. “Walk with dignity, for heaven’s sake. You’re an earl.”
He laughed at her, nearly skipping, and she could not help her own ecstatic giggles.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ignoring his Mistress, William continued to drag her home as fast as her steps allowed.
She can punish me all she wants; she is lucky I don’t pick her up and run with her.
Realizing he’d crushed the bag with the cake, he sighed and softened his grip a fraction.
His Mistress was his for the taking! She had chosen him. He’d grown more and more impatient these past weeks, envisioning all sorts of scenarios in which he proposed. But none felt right. She’d said she loved him and ventured out with him and introduced him to friends and family. However, he’d been waiting for her clear signal that she’d chosen him.
He was relieved and grateful that he’d put his eagerness to good use and prepared for this. After their last visit with the Earl and Countess of Peterborough, he’d managed to corner Edward in White’s.
“Lord Peter—”
“Ah.” Edward tsked. “Remember? ’Tis Edward to family and friends.”
William nodded once, feeling tongue-tied. He’d been so eager to have this conversation he’d neglected to consider how to phrase his questions. His Mistress would shake her head at the puppy-like behavior. “My apologies, Edward. Er, speaking of family and friends…”
Edward arched a brow at him, letting him stew.
He fidgeted.
“William, if you cannot say it, you are not ready for it,” Edward admonished, grinning as he crossed one leg over the other.
