Seduced At Sunset (7 page)

Surely it would be impossible to resist a full-scale love
affair with him, and to her utter delight, he had expressed a similar desire.
Expressed it with his body
. She had recognized his arousal
for he had been wonderfully aggressive, breathing heavily, and touching her
hungrily with those strong, sure hands.

Heaven help her, what should she expect tonight when she
met him at the hotel? If she didn’t lose her courage before then and change her
mind completely.

Charlotte reached the top of the stairs and breathed in
the scent of honey-smoked ham and coffee. After her thrilling boat ride on the
river, she was famished.

“Good morning,” Adelaide said as Charlotte entered and
poured herself a cup of coffee.

Her mother had no notion that Charlotte had ventured out
at six o’clock to meet a potential lover, so Charlotte served up a plate of
eggs and ham, and sat down as if nothing were amiss.

“What are your plans for the day?” Adelaide asked as she
set the newspaper down on the white tablecloth.

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t you mention that we might take a walk in the park?
I would like to do something that does not involve crowds or shopping.”

Charlotte set down her coffee cup. “Oh yes. Although Hyde
Park is not the best place to go if you wish to avoid a crowd on a sunny
afternoon.”

“I will tolerate the crowds in exchange for green grass,
birds, and trees,” Adelaide replied. “Two o’clock, did you not say?”

Indeed, Charlotte had been quite adamant about that
particular time of the day, for she had hoped to entice Dr. Thomas to join
them. But since their discussion in his office the day before, the urgency to
take her mother to the park had diminished with the news that Dr. Thomas was involved
with another woman now.

“What about a museum or art gallery this afternoon?”
Charlotte suggested. “I daresay it looks like rain.”

The sky was a bright shade of blue, however, and the birds
were singing.

“Don’t be silly,” Adelaide said. “It is a glorious day and
I want to walk in the park and twirl our parasols. You look very fetching in
your lavender walking gown, darling. Why not wear that one?”

Charlotte realized that her mother had come to London with
high hopes that her daughter might at last meet a handsome gentleman worthy of
stealing her heart. So... Adelaide was playing matchmaker, too, though
apparently she had not yet identified an appropriate suitor.

Charlotte considered mentioning that she had already
selected a handsome man to enjoy for the summer. He was the famous retired
boxer they called The Iron Fist, and it was going to be a purely sexual affair.

Swallowing uneasily, she set down her fork. “A walk in the
park sounds delightful,” she said, and finished her coffee without saying
another word.

Contrary to Charlotte’s prediction about an unexpected
rainfall, the weather remained fine that afternoon. She and Adelaide opened
their parasols and climbed into the barouche, which first took them for a drive
through Piccadilly, then circled around to drop them off at the Marble Arch
entrance to Hyde Park. It was just past two when they stepped out of the
vehicle.

“We shall walk for a full hour,” Adelaide said to the
footman.

“Very good, Your Grace,” he replied as he reached to raise
the step. The two ladies turned and entered the park.

“It will do me good to wander about and see people again,”
Adelaide said to Charlotte, referring of course to the past two years she had
spent in mourning. She did not come to London at all last Season, preferring
instead to remain in the country and settle into her new occupancy at the dower
house.

“I hope you have not been lonely,” Charlotte said, linking
her arm through her mother’s. “I often look out the window and wonder what you
are doing at any given moment. It’s strange not having you at the palace. I
have missed you.”

“I have missed you, too,” Adelaide replied, “but it is
best for me to reside at the dower house, so that the servants will look to
Rebecca for instructions and not come to me. It was important that she take the
reins as the new duchess.”

“You are right of course. And if you were still living at
the palace, they would look to you for the final word on everything, for they
love and respect you greatly.”

“Thank you, darling. You are kind to say so.”

“It is not kindness, it is the truth, and if you ever have
any doubts about the running of the household, allow me to assure you that
Rebecca is doing an excellent job of it. She had very large shoes to fill, of
course, but the servants do respect her. And Lord knows, Devon is happy.”

Adelaide smiled. “They have done well, to be sure, and
have dutifully provided the dukedom with heirs.”

That particular observation made Charlotte laugh, for
‘duty’ had nothing to do with it. The passion between Devon and his wife had
not diminished in the slightest after twelve years of marriage and a nursery
full of children. They were a shining example of perfect wedded bliss—as
were her other three brothers—Vincent, Blake, and Garrett. It was a happy
household, bursting at the seams with the children of the next generation. All
was well at Pembroke, and for that Charlotte was grateful.

“And what about you?” Adelaide asked, pulling Charlotte
closer to walk side by side on the gravel path. “You are the only one of my
beloved children who has not chosen to marry. I know how much pleasure you
derive from your writing, but are you happy, darling? Are
you
ever lonely?”

Charlotte felt a pang of discomfort, for she must be
lonely indeed, to be driven to take a casual lover. But she couldn’t possibly
tell her mother that. There were certain things one could not—and should
not—say to a parent.

“I am very happy,” she assured her mother, and that was no
lie. “My writing is fulfilling. I feel blessed to have such a passion in my
life. I know that I could never be bored, for there is always a pen and ink jar
nearby. Or a book to engage my mind.”

“You were always far too bright for your tutors,” Adelaide
said with a laugh. “What a voracious reader you were, from a very young age.”

“I love words,” Charlotte replied, “and good stories.”

Thankfully her mother left it at that, and did not press
her further about loneliness or her looming spinsterhood.

The path began a gradual incline, and Charlotte looked up
to see a man walking toward them from the other direction. She recognized him
instantly, and her heart swelled with happiness.

William!
Her father had come
after all—at the very hour she had suggested. Was it possible he had
changed his mind?

Quickly she glanced over her shoulder, fearing suddenly
that he was here to meet his lady friend, but there was no one behind them.

“Good afternoon!” Adelaide called out, letting go of
Charlotte’s arm and increasing her pace along the path. She walked ahead to
meet him. “What a pleasure to see you, William.”

He took hold of her gloved hand, raised it to his lips,
and kissed it. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace. How are you? It has been
almost two years, has it not?”

Charlotte caught up with them. Her father gave her that
familiar look of affection, which always made her smile.

“Yes, two years exactly,” Adelaide replied. She lowered
her voice. “Those were difficult times, as you well know.”

She was speaking of the duke’s lingering illness and
demise and how helpful Dr. Thomas had been through it all.

Charlotte noticed they had not yet let go of each other’s
hands.

“Have you been well?” he asked.

“Very well, thank you. I have moved into the dower house
and the garden there has provided me with many hours of happy distraction. You
should see my roses, William.”

With a charming smile, he said, “I have no doubt they are
exquisite, for you always had a wonderful appreciation for flowers, and such a
gift with color.”

“As did Theodore,” Adelaide replied, out of respect for
her late husband.

“Indeed.” Dr. Thomas turned to Charlotte. “And how are you
on this fine day, my dear? Looking lovely as always.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you ladies just begun your walk?”

“Yes,” Adelaide said. “We arrived only a few minutes ago.
Will you join us, William? I would like to hear about your work since we last
spoke. Garrett often tells me about your lectures at the university. I am so
pleased that you and he have been able to spend so much time together. You have
become a tremendous influence in his life. I hope you appreciate how much it
means to me.”

“It means a great to me as well,” he replied as he offered
his arm and turned to escort Adelaide down the path in the direction from where
he had come.

Charlotte felt suddenly invisible, and wondered if she
should tell her mother about William’s involvement with another woman. But
would that spoil her mother’s hopes, if in fact she had any? Perhaps William
would tell her of his lady friend today.

Falling back a few steps, Charlotte left them alone to
walk together and catch up on old times.

She watched her mother’s parasol twirl before her eyes and
felt a happy thrill move through her. It had been a most eventful day, full of
possibilities. It was hard to believe there was still so much more to come.

Chapter Six

Charlotte waited for her mother to retire for the night
before she snuck out. It was now almost midnight and she was entering the hotel
through the back door as she had been instructed to do. By her lover. Or
rather, by the man who would become her lover in the next few hours.

Her belly turned over with a strange mixture of
apprehension and eagerness, for she had not been able to erase their morning
kiss from her mind. All day she had been reeling with frustrated desire,
dreaming about the moment she would feel his hands on her body.

The husky sound of his voice played over in her mind and
stimulated her fantasies. She had been distracted from it for only a brief time
that afternoon when she had watched her parents walk together in the park and
talk for a full hour before Dr. Thomas escorted them back to the barouche.

But that was then, and this was a new moment to embrace.
She entered the hotel, closed the door behind her, and found herself in a
pitch-dark entryway.

Unable to see her own hand in front of her face, she
backed up against the wall and stood very still. Perhaps this had been a
mistake. Could she really trust a man she had only just met? What if he had not
even come?

Then the floor creaked, a shadow moved in front of her,
and she felt the light brush of his lips across her cheek. Her nipples
tightened, and her flesh tingled beneath her gown.

“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” he said in that raunchy
voice that singed her mind with erotic images of what would happen over the
next few minutes.

“I couldn’t possibly stay away,” she said. “You have been
in my thoughts since the moment we parted.”

“The waiting was pure hell.”

Then his lips found hers in the darkness and his tongue
swept into her mouth with a sexual aggression that roused her senses. She
wrapped her arms around his neck and met his kiss with fierce abandon. His hard
body trapped her tight up against the wall, while his hand slid down over her
hip and hooked under the back of her knee. He lifted her thigh and parted her
legs, thrust his hips into hers, and just when she thought he might take her
right there in the dark with no foreplay whatsoever, he laid a trail of kisses
down the side of her neck and said, “I have a room for us. Join me there now?”

“Lead the way,” she replied.

He took her by the hand, and she followed him without
question up a narrow staircase lit only by a gaslight sconce at the top. They
climbed two flights and emerged into a wide, more brightly lit hallway.
Reaching into his breast pocket for a key, he unlocked a door at the far end of
the building, and in the very next instant, she was inside the room, kissing
him again in the darkness.

He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, set
her down upon it, and stood over her while shrugging out of his jacket. The
light from the city streets outside filtered in through the window and
illuminated his broad, muscular chest as he tossed the jacket aside and began
to unbutton his waistcoat.

Charlotte leaned up on her elbows to watch the marvelous
spectacle of his undressing before her. All of this felt like an impossible
fantasy—something she was dreaming about in the late, lonely hours of the
night. But it was not a fantasy. This was real.
He
was real, and he was not wasting any time.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked. “A glass of wine?”

If she said ‘yes,’ would he postpone the ravishment?