“Do not be angry with me, Charlotte.”
“Why, pray?” she asked, turning to face him again. “After you treated your sister and my cousin—yes, do not think I have forgotten the connection—so abominably, do you think me so quick to forgive?”
“My sister ought never to have done what she has done.”
“Perhaps not, but I sympathize with her—something you, evidently, are unable to do.”
“What is there to sympathize with?” he demanded, exasperated. “Yes, I do not care for the match, but if she had persisted with me, I would not have refused her.”
Charlotte’s temper boiled over though she still did not dare march up to him and jab her finger in his chest. If she did so, she had a good idea of what would happen next, and that would be quite unacceptable.Especiallywhen she wanted nothing more than to oppose him. “And could she have known that?” she inquired icily. “How should Constance have known you might have come around to the match when you were so insistent on informing her what a bad match it was?”
“She married a physician, Charlotte.”
“A choiceshemade! Who are you to stand in the way of their happiness? Do you presume to know better than her heart? Would she be better married to the Earl of Newtown?” She paused, heart thudding. “Would I be better off married to Sebastian?”
He glanced up, shock written across his features. “I never suggested that.”
“You dealt badly with her today, Aaron. She is yoursister.” Tears stung Charlotte’s eyes, and she pressed her lips together. She would not cry, not in front of Aaron. “Perhaps you ought to be reminded of that every once in a while.”
“I had not forgotten,” he growled. “Why do you think her deception hurt me so?”
“Then consider the fact that you chased Constance away.” The words made Aaron flinch, but Charlotte refused to let herself care. If this was to end when they returned to London, she could not be concerned with the Duke’s feelings; she merely had to protect her own. “Your lack of trust in her to know what’s best for her is the very reason she ran away.”
“Do not concern yourself in something that is none of your business,” he said stiffly.
“Very well.” Charlotte made for the door. “I see my presence here is unwelcome. I shall leave. Immediately, if you so require.”
“Charlotte—”
“I am Lady Charlotte, and you would do well to remember it.”
“LadyCharlotte, then,” he said though hearing it gave her no real pleasure. “There is little point you leaving—we return to London tomorrow.”
She raised her chin. “As I recall, there is an inn in the village.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. “As though I should let a guest of mine stay in the village. Are you out of your mind?”
Charlotte knew her mother would never consent to this, but she’d had enough of Aaron’s arrogant presumption that he knew best. “Perhaps I would rather stay in the village than with you,” she said.
A dangerous light kindled in his eyes. “Say that again.”
“I have no compunction in saying it again. I would rather—” But she was unable to get the words out. Aaron cursed and pulled her to him, smothering her words with his mouth, and drowning her protestations in a fiery kiss.
She should be angry. Shewantedto be angry, but she wantedhimmore, and she gave in with a moan that had him drawing her into him with eager, hungry hands.
Charlotte had experienced hunger like this once before when he had taken everything she had offered—although perhaps, if he was to be believed, he hadnottaken everything—and she had come to the conclusion he was the only one who could provoke such feelings.
She hated it as much as she loved it.
He broke away almost as violently as he had kissed her. “I cannot bear you thinking so ill of me,” he said in a growl.
“Then perhapsyouought to be less insufferable.”
“With such provocation? When you persist in taking my sister’s side over mine?”
“You have done her wrong, Aaron.”
“Less so than you might suppose.” He broke away from her and strode to the window she had previously stood beside. “Would you be satisfied to know I told her she would always be welcome in my home?”
