Page 184 of A Perilous Passion

“I promise I’ll send a dispatch to the fort as soon as we’ve triangulated the beacons, and ask for experienced men. Trust me, I won’t let myself be caught unawares again.”

“I believe you,” she said, shooting him a look of such admiration, his heart glowed. Moses, but it was painful to part from her, even if only for the day. He smiled inwardly, thinking of the pleasures they’d share when he completed his mission. How he’d love showing her round Beckport House and his collections. How splendid it would be to take her to London and parade her proudly at the operas and plays. His life would be filled with balls and laughter again—all the delights he’d left behind when the army ate him up and spat him out so unceremoniously.

“Regrettably,” he said, “I must attend to duty now. See if you can instill a little sense into that erstwhile beau of yours as he escorts you home. He can’t be a complete fool—he recognized before I did what a gem lay hidden in the wilds of Fortuneswell.”

He thrust out his arms and pulled her hard against his chest, kissing her hair, and discovered his eyes were moist. It had been such a long, hard journey of late, trying to prove himself, hazarding his life at every turn, bearing the heavy responsibility of risking other souls besides his own. He’d become bitter and aloof and denied himself the haven of a woman’s arms for too long.

The affection in Charlotte’s eyes warmed him, healed him. Maybe one day, if he survived the completion of his mission, he’d prove himself good enough to deserve her love.

Chapter Thirty-Six

As Charlotte struggled to convince her stomach that it really did need toasted muffins and marmalade, she marveled at the sudden brilliance of her future.

She’d never been happier than in Rafe’s arms. Not even the bright sunlit days of childhood, when she was carefree and blissfully ignorant of Papa’s execrable profession, could compare with the golden glow that engulfed her now. She’d had no idea of the skills men had to offer a woman when it came to the pleasures of the flesh.

Her whole body felt new-forged, alive as a fresh bloom opening to the sun, ready to accept whatever benison the world had to offer. Now that she’d had a taste of what it felt like to be with a man, she had no qualms about surrendering her virginity in the marriage bed.

To be wed to an earl was more than she could ever have hoped for, or thought possible. Mama and Aunt Flora would certainly benefit from it socially—so long as Flora didn’t decide to run off with that traveling doctor of hers.

Charlotte still didn’t quite believe she’d be lucky enough to have a happy ending. Her past would be a problem, even for an earl’s wife. Especially for an earl’s wife. The ton was unforgiving. Rafe knew that better than anyone. Once the tongues started wagging, would he really think she was worth going through all that again? After he’d worked so hard to redeem himself since his own fall from grace? True, his acceptance back into Society hadn’t happened yet, but it would, once his role in capturing the traitorous Culverdale and foiling the French plot was publicly revealed. Of that, she had no doubt. He would be a hero.

Would a hero of the realm truly want a wife who was but a stone about his neck? Yes, he’d treated her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, and told her he loved her. But once he thought it through, surely he would withdraw his offer?

Dabbing her lips with a napkin, her heart sank. Even if he did the honorable thing and married her, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t return to his rakish ways afterward, feeling trapped in a marriage with a social outcast.

Not to mention, if he continued acting as a spy, she’d spend all her days in continual fear for his safety.

She pushed back her chair, worked the pump handle a few times to rinse off her breakfast things, and set them on the wooden board to dry. When she heard a masculine step in the doorway, she spun round, expecting Rafe. Bursting to pummel him with questions and doubts.

But it was Justin.

He stalked into the room with a rigid back and eyes like flint. He took up position an unfriendly distance away from her, bristling with disapproval.

“So, you’ve thrown your lot in with Seabourne. I’d thought better of you. Papa was right when he warned me about you. He saw faults that I, blinded by love, did not. I suppose I must congratulate myself on a lucky escape.”

Hurt seared through her. She dropped her plate in consternation and it clattered down on the draining board. She’d expected a tirade, but not heartless insults.

“And I must congratulate myself likewise,” she said quietly, “for escaping the clutches of a foolhardy, rude, disloyal, and immature boy. I, too, was blinded. I’m glad my eyes have opened to your true nature.”

His face paled. “That was uncalled for.”

Unclenching her fists, she took a step toward him. “I’m sorry, but I disagree. I regret you had to find out this way, and I understand you’re shocked and hurt. But Rafe and I have been drawing closer for some time, and yesterday’s dramatic events rather tipped the balance. We are to be married.”

“Indeed?” Justin lifted a mocking eyebrow. “I see no betrothal ring. But perhaps he’s too poor to afford one. I cannot imagine the wages of a spy are much more than a common soldier’s. I never imagined you could like such a person, Charlotte. You’ve truly disappointed me.”

Not afford a ring? She almost laughed. “You don’t know him as I do. He’s courageous, principled, and steadfast. Perhaps rather overbearing at times, but I know him to be sincere. And he loves me.”

Justin turned toward the door. His voice shook with emotion as he said, “I don’t wish to hear another man’s virtues extolled by my former fiancée, thank you. If you’re ready, we’ll leave now, and we can be out of each other’s way for good.”

That hurt. “Don’t be like this,” she begged, hastening across to put a hand on his arm. “Can’t we at least part as friends?”

He picked up her shawl from the hallstand. “Is this yours?” he asked, refusing to look at her.

“Yes. I’ll just say farewell to Rafe.”

“He already left. His business is evidently more important to him than you are. I would never have treated you so cavalierly.”

Justin’s attitude was so frustrating. Would he think any better of her choice if he knew who Rafe really was? But it wasn’t her secret to tell. And honestly, his social standing shouldn’t matter. Character was character, regardless of one’s class. Clearly, Justin had a way to go in that regard.