Page 16 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

He held up a small round of soap, and Odette let out a gasp.

“Oh! Charlie, yes, please. I don’t suppose you have any tooth powder in there too?”

She watched with anticipation as he drew a small pot from a pocket and brandished it like a magician revealing a trick. There was a devilish look in his eyes.

“A solider is always prepared for any eventuality. What’s it worth?” he asked her. “What reward shall I have for such riches?”

Odette blushed, a tremor of unease sliding down her back and, for just a moment, she wondered if she had misjudged him. His face fell at once and he shook his head.

“No! No, not… I didn’t mean….” He huffed, looking a little indignant. “I would never ask such a thing of you.”

Odette was contrite at once, hating that she’d even thought it of him. “Forgive me.”

He smiled then, and the curve of his lips transformed his face and made her feel all dithery and foolish. She had noticed his expression was often quite stern, forbidding almost, but it took little to make him smile, to brighten his blue eyes.

“No, my fault. I was only teasing. As if you’d even consider such a thing for a paltry bar of soap and a bit of tooth powder,” he said with a laugh.

Odette looked down at her crumpled clothes and gave a sniff.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said doubtfully, for the express purpose of making him laugh.

It worked and a little surge of triumph rushed through her. She liked making him laugh, loved the way she could make his eyes sparkle. Odette had the strong suspicion this was a man who had been full of laughter and fun once upon a time, but life—the war—had knocked it out of him. She sensed he was learning it all over again, and she wanted so much to help him.

“Well, it’s yours,” he said, grinning. “I shall shave and get out of your way for a bit, and you can wash in front of the fire. How’s that?”

“Such a gentleman,” she said, affecting a swoon.

“Glad you noticed,” he said seriously, and then winked at her as he lathered up the brush with the soap and applied it to his neck and chin.

He’d taken off his cravat to do so, and the scene was so domestic and intimate Odette did not know where to put herself. Yet, it was fascinating too, and so she decided a girl who was ruined could act as she pleased, and sat down at the table to watch.

Chance was quiet until he’d applied the soap all over and reached for the razor. He’d propped a small looking glass on the table at an angle and tilted his head to get a view.

“Why do you have such a poor opinion of Englishmen?” he asked conversationally, before using the razor.

Somehow, Odette knew that her answer was important to him and, for that reason, she did not rush to answer him. She did not know this man, and was not even certain he’d told her the truth of who he was. There had been something in his eyes when he’d given his name, as if he was hiding something. Well, she was, so why not? He was obviously a gentleman. Despite being soaked through and crumpled when they’d first met, she knew his clothes were quality, and his accent was refined. She wondered if he would offer to make her his mistress. For all he had been careful with her, determined to treat her with respect, the reality of their situation would hit home eventually. She was ruined. He owed her nothing and well as he might like her, she could hardly expect him to propose to a woman who’d acted as rashly as she had. It was not the action of a sensible woman, of the kind of woman a fellow might wish to marry. A mistress, though, that was different. Perhaps, if he knew she had money, he would be tempted to offer for her? The idea made her flush hot. No. She would not be sold to him. Not to him. She liked him too much. Far, far too much. It would kill her not to know if he truly cared for her, or had married her for her fortune.

So, she would tell him, but… not that bit.

She took a breath and then stopped as he laid a finger to her lips. He was half-soap, half–shaved, and looked a little comical, but his eyes were soft and serious.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It doesn’t matter, and you don’t need to tell me until you are ready.”

“I was going to—” she protested, but he shook his head.

“Marry me.”

Odette gaped at him. Surely, she had misheard… he couldn’t… he hadn’t…!

“Marry me, Odette,” he said again, his voice firm this time. “I cannot bear the idea of you going away and never seeing you again. I was going to wait, to discover more about you, for I know you are hiding something, but… I don’t care. The more I think about never seeing you again, the more afraid I feel. I can’t bear it, so… marry me?”

She stared at him, unable to believe he’d really asked her, but there he was, waiting for her answer, his expression tight with anxiety.

“Oui,” she whispered, so quietly she wondered if he had heard until his mouth stretched into a wide smile.

He gave a little whoop and laughed.

“Splendid! That’s… That’s marvellous,” he said, his eyes dancing. “Damn, I want to kiss you now, and….”