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“But how do you know you can keep me safe? What are you not telling me, Jeffrey?” Charlotte breathed.
Jeffrey squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want to be dishonest with you. We’ve already been through so much together.”
“Then tell me.”
“I wanted to keep you in the dark as much as possible, for your benefit,” he told her. “I wanted to keep you safe. But now, I see, we’ve come too far.”
“We’re in this together, Jeffrey. Please. I—I didn’t ask for any of this. I …”
“I know that,” Jeffrey breathed. Finally, he swallowed and took a delicate step back. His hands found Charlotte’s and held them tightly. “I told you that my brother died of mysterious circumstances. But what I didn’t tell you is this. That mystic. Florentia. She murdered my older brother.”
“What are you talking about?” Charlotte asked. Her voice broke with terror.
“The mystic you met. Her name was Florentia, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“She’s a murderer. She robbed my brother. She stole so much of his money and somehow got away with it. She even staged his murder so that it appeared to be an accident. In the wake of my brother’s death, my parents died of broken hearts. As a result, I’ve ached for years to get revenge over this woman. I’ve longed to bring her to justice. It’s always seemed that she’s been one step ahead of me—just a town ahead, or even a corner away.
“But now, it seems as though she’s slipped up when it comes to Brooks’ death,” he continued. “I believe that finally, I can end this woman’s reign across Europe. Personally, I only know of two murders she’s conducted. Assuredly, there have been more.”
Charlotte’s heart pumped with feelings of anger, of fear, of lust. She dropped her hands from Jeffrey’s and placed them over her cheeks.
“You’re saying that I sat there before the very woman who murdered my cousin?” she asked. “The very woman who murdered your brother?”
“I am incredibly sure of it. Yes.”
“But Jeffrey …” Her voice broke. “Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
It made sense, in a way. Charlotte had been an eternal skeptic. The fact that the mystic had decided to “forecast” the murder she was about to conduct proved to Charlotte just how little people understood about the depths of the universe, about time itself.
Jeffrey shook his head. “I don’t know. I only know I wanted to protect you however I could. Now, we’re both up against this horror. But we’re close, Charlotte. We’re closer than anyone has ever got to taking her down. We must keep fighting. Do you think you can?”
Charlotte’s heart whacked against her ribcage. Anger was replaced with terror, which was ultimately replaced with trust.
She had no one else in her life—no one else who wanted to honour Brooks’ life in this manner.
She had to put the past behind them.
“Won’t you forgive me, Charlotte?” he whispered.
Charlotte staggered forward and pressed herself against him once more. “Yes, Jeffrey. Yes. I forgive me. And—I’ll help you no matter what.”
Jeffrey’s hand swept across her cheek.
Charlotte couldn’t hold back any longer.
“I love you, Jeffrey,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt this way before. I know it. I feel it in my bones.”
Jeffrey’s eyes shimmered with happiness.
“I love you, too, Charlotte,” he breathed.
Their lips met once more. Jeffrey’s hands gripped her breasts and tugged the fabric down over her nipples, allowing them to spill into his massive hands. Quickly, he leaned her against the gate and broke their kiss to pepper other kisses down her neck, across her chest, until his lips landed upon her nipple. His tongue twirled across her nipple, and her fingers swept through his curls as her head dropped back, and pleasure flowed through her.
The dinner party seemed miles away.
When Jeffrey’s lips returned to hers, he gripped her skirts and tugged them up and up, until his hand skated over the top of her thighs and flickered towards the wet juncture between them. Softly, he placed a tender finger just beneath Charlotte’s chemise.
