The Christmas Heiress (19 page)

The earl elected to stay behind. Charlotte joined
him.

"We need to move away so we are not in the sight
line of the tree when it is felled," he said.

Charlotte followed his instructions, standing
beside him as she stared straight ahead at the enormous tree. It took far longer to cut through this
thick trunk. The servants grunted and groaned as
they pulled and pushed the heavy saw, the odd combination of sounds echoing through the quiet
woods.

Finally the magnificent fir sank to the ground
with a graceful whoosh. Charlotte felt a pang of sadness to see it lying lifelessly on its side, the branches
spread out on the forest floor.

She glanced sideways at the earl, wondering if he
was experiencing a similar emotion. But the line of
his jaw remained firm and his eyes were shadowed.

The servants secured ropes to various sections
of the trunk. Then with a simultaneous effort they
began pulling the giant tree through the woods.
Charlotte and the earl stood silently until it disappeared from view.

The quiet settled around them. It took a few moments for Charlotte to realize they were alone.

The earl removed his silver flask from his coat
pocket and held it out to her.

"Care for a taste?"

She shook her head. He shrugged, lifted the flask
to his lips and took a long swallow.

Charlotte's eyes narrowed. Sips of brandy to ward
off the chill of the outdoors. Is that not what had
started those kisses she had shared with him those
many Christmases ago? Clearly, it was time for her
to leave.

Yet her feet never took a step. She watched the
earl's throat move as he drank. When he finished,
he lowered the flask to his side. She could not help
but notice how his lips glistened with a drop of the
liquid still upon them.

Charlotte's stomach fluttered oddly, her pulse
quickened, her heart began to thunder. All thoughts
deserted her as she continued to stare at his mouth.

"Don't do that," he said quietly.

She blinked. "What?"

"Bloody hell," he whispered, moving closer.

And before she knew what was happening or
could do anything to prevent it, he grasped her by
the shoulders and pulled her against him. It was a
shock to feel his firmly muscled body against her
own, but even more of a surprise was his mouth on
hers, warm and firm, his lips slightly parted.

Charlotte instinctively pushed against him, but he
refused to release her. His mouth was demanding,
insistent, plundering. She fought just a moment
longer and then she surrendered, letting herself
sink into the moment, letting his lips shape hers, his
body heat hers. With a cry of pure passion, Charlotte's lips parted and her tongue met his.

His mouth was warm, soft against hers. She made
a tiny sound, the barest whisper, but it was all he
needed to take the kiss deeper. Her fur muff
dropped to the ground, her hands curled around
his shoulders. She could almost taste the desire simmering beneath the kiss, the desire for something
more between them.

I should not be kissing him, Charlotte thought, and
yet the feel of his tongue and lips was so glorious
she could not stop herself. She tilted her head from
one side to the other, pushing herself closer, never
once breaking the intimate contact of their kiss.
Her hands found their way to his chest and she
could feel his heart beating under her palm.

A bewildering sweep of heat broke over her body
and Charlotte began to feel more than a little dizzy.
She clung to the earl and then he pulled back suddenly, wrenching his lips from hers, his breath coming in great gasps, his beautiful eyes a stark reflection of her own need.

"There is something about Christmas and the
woods and being alone with you that makes me act
like a barbarian," he said hoarsely, his voice as dark
as midnight.

She swallowed hard. "Don't forget the brandy, my
lord. It seems as though you only want to kiss me
once you have partaken of strong spirits."

He gave her a narrow-eyed look, indecision and
desire clouding his face. "I kiss you because I
cannot seem to stop myself. Perhaps the brandy
does give me a sense of false courage, but I can
assure you that I am far from drunk."

Charlotte stared at him, moved by the utter conviction in his voice. Yet still so very uncertain of his
motives and intentions. She took several steps away
from him, feeling an almost physical deprivation
without his nearness. "I threw myself at you six
years ago and that is something I promise you I
shall never do again."

"I know that." His mouth curled into a smile.
"Though I cannot promise that I will not throw
myself at you."

Charlotte struggled not to smile. There was something so amazingly possessed, so strangely attractive
about the earl. She meant every word about not
being so easily available to his charms, yet as she
stared into his handsome face, it was increasingly
difficult not to press her lips to his and run her
hands over his chest. Or worst of all, to remain in
this secluded spot where she could let him have his
way with her.

It was only a lifetime of proper training, coupled with a fair amount of pride, that held her in check.
She turned to leave.

"Miss Aldridge! Charlotte, wait!"

Her mouth wobbled, her chest felt constricted by
emotion. Yet somehow she found the courage and
dignity to turn around and face him.

"My lord?"

"You forgot your fur muff."

She glanced down at the fashionable bit of fur for
a long, puzzled moment. "Thank you."

The earl pressed his lips together, but Charlotte
could see a faint glimmer of enjoyment on his face.
She tried to fix him with a chilling stare, but it was
impossible.

Instead, a smile she could not prevent curved her
lips. The man was simply too damn charming for
his own good.

Charlotte's thoughts were in turmoil when she returned to the manor house. She wanted nothing
more than to spend a few quiet hours in her room,
pondering the events of the morning. As she
rounded a corner, the flash of a gray dress caught
her attention. It was Miss Montgomery, moving
swiftly down the hall. Her back was to Charlotte, so
she did not see her. After a quick glance in all directions to assure they were alone, Charlotte called out.

"Miss Montgomery."

The companion stopped in her tracks, her ear
cocked as if confused by the sound of the female
voice. She whirled around, then smiled briefly
when she recognized Charlotte.

"Miss Aldridge, good afternoon. Is there some
way that I may offer you assistance?"

Charlotte advanced on her. "I have something to
give you." She fumbled inside her cloak pocket, pulled
out Jonathan's note and extended the envelope.

Miss Montgomery stared down at the note, her
expression perplexed. "Do you wish me to have this
letter posted for you? Harris, as butler, generally
handles that household chore, but I would be
happy to give it to him."

Charlotte shook her head from side to side. "The
note is meant for you."

"You have written me a letter?"

"No. The letter is not from me." Charlotte leaned
forward and whispered, "'Tis from a secret admirer."

Miss Montgomery, who was in the process of
taking the envelope from Charlotte, pulled her
empty hand away and leapt back as if she had just
been scalded with boiling water.

"I have no admirer. Secret or otherwise." She
stood at attention, stiff and unmoving. "You must
be mistaken."

Charlotte smiled, trying to put her at ease. "There
is no mistake. It's from Jonathan."

"Oh, dear." Aghast, Miss Montgomery clutched a
fist to her chest as though her heart were aching.

Jonathan had told her that Miss Montgomery was
fearful of any attention from him, but Charlotte
was unprepared for such a violent reaction. "Do
you dislike him?" she questioned.

"My opinion of Mr. Barringer is of no consequence." Miss Montgomery studied her for a long
moment, almost as though she was trying to evaluate if Charlotte could be trusted. "Any association between Mr. Barringer and myself is highly improper. I am surprised that you would be a party to
encourage him in this matter. He does on occasion
need to be reminded that he must not shirk his responsibilities to his family. I would expect as his
friend you would remind him of his duty."

A becoming blush colored her cheeks and Charlotte was surprised by how different Miss Montgomery appeared when a spark of passionate life
shone in her eyes. She was a young and pretty
woman, but clearly also considerate and wise. For
just an instant Charlotte caught a glimpse of how
lonely and isolated she must feel.

"A few lines of poetry hardly constitute an indiscretion," Charlotte said gently.

"If the countess ever found out. . ." Miss Montgomery began ruefully, her voice trailing off.

"She will not," Charlotte promised. "That is why
I agreed to act as Jonathan's courier."

That brought a wan smile. Charlotte could see
how tempted the other woman was to reach for the
note, yet still she hesitated.

"You do not understand, Miss Aldridge, how much
of a risk this is for me. How careful I must be." She
wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to contain her emotions. "You do not know what it is like to
be grateful and indebted and beholden to others for
the roof over your head, every stitch of clothing you
wear, every bite of food you put in your mouth."

Charlotte was a bit shocked, but she did not show
it. "You are right. I have no notion of what your life
is like each day. I imagine it must be awful."

Miss Montgomery shook her head. "I do not
want to give the impression that I am not grateful for this job, because I am." Her frustration was visible. "It was difficult at first, but I have learned my
place. I do not offer an opinion or participate in an
important discussion because it is frowned upon.

"I have managed to survive unscathed because I
am invisible, because I have so thoroughly concealed any part of my former self. I have masked my
emotions for so long that I truly fear I do not know
how to feel anymore."

"Then it is past time that you remembered."

Charlotte felt a sudden kinship with this woman
who was struggling so mightily with her feelings.
She had reluctantly agreed to act as Jonathan's
go-between, but now she wanted, in some small
way, to alleviate Miss Montgomery's loneliness,
her isolation.

Charlotte pressed the envelope into the other
woman's hand, wrapping her fingers around it, shielding it from view. Miss Montgomery's skin was icy cold
and she was trembling. "Read it, every last word,"
Charlotte instructed. `Then hide it, guard it carefully."

For a long moment Miss Montgomery silently
gaped at the envelope. She looked fragile, delicate
and wary, as if the slightest sound might cause her
to shatter into a million pieces.

She lifted her head. Her anguished gaze locked
with Charlotte's, but then a calm seemed to settle
over her entire being. She pulled herself up to her
full height. "I will cherish this," she replied, holding the note close to her heart. "And if I should
wish to reply?"

A huge wave of relief billowed over Charlotte and
she barely managed to stifle a giggle. "I shall be happy to ensure that your letters reach the correct
individual," she answered with a broad smile.

Miss Montgomery smiled, too.

Charlotte opened the salon door, anxious to visit
her grandfather, pleased that they had decided to
arrange some private time together. With so many
activities planned throughout the day there had
been few chances for them to share an honest conversation, to enjoy each other's company without
feeling any restraints.

It was therefore a most unpleasant surprise to discover the countess was in the salon with her grandfather. The older woman was seated in a high-backed,
ornately carved chair, which Charlotte immediately
decided held an uncanny resemblance to a throne.

"Ali, there she is, Lord Reginald," the countess
said, her false smile widening. "I told you she would
arrive within the hour."

"Am I late?" Charlotte asked with a worried frown
as she curtseyed to the countess. "I do hope you
have not been waiting long."

"You are right on time, as always," Lord Reginald
declared. Charlotte's heart lightened at her grandfather's sweet smile and she appreciated his little
protective lie. Punctuality had never been Charlotte's strength.

"Do sit down," the countess instructed. "Harris
will bring tea. And something a bit stronger for
Lord Reginald. Then we can all have a cozy chat."

Puzzling over the countess's chummy behavior,
Charlotte cautiously took a seat. She caught her grandfather's eye, and Lord Reginald shrugged, indicating he too was in the dark. Charlotte's heart thumped in
her chest. Had the countess somehow discovered the
note thatJonathan had written to Miss Montgomery?

And if she had, what would be the outcome?
Charlotte was not well enough acquainted with the
countess to know if there would be accusations or
hysterics. Or both.

Harris entered with the requested refreshments
and Charlotte quickly rallied. She was being foolish,
worrying without good cause. She had been careful,
discreet. It was highly unlikely the countess knew
anything about the note or Jonathan's infatuation
with Miss Montgomery. And if she did, well, Charlotte would deal with it.

She was not so easily intimated or bullied. Especially with Grandpapa by her side.

The countess dismissed her butler and took charge
of the refreshments. The large ruby ring she wore on
her right hand knocked sharply against the delicate
china teacup as she passed it to Charlotte.

The door unexpectedly opened and the earl entered the room. The startled expression on his face
told them all he had no idea it was occupied. There
was a prolonged, awkward silence as he stood beneath the door frame, neither inside nor outside
the salon. The countess refused to look at her son,
her face pale but for the two bright spots of color
on her cheeks.