What Not to Bare: A Loveswept Historical Romance (23 page)

“I will not.”

He paused this time, causing another couple to bump into them. The gentleman of the pair glared at Charles. It appeared others shared her opinion of him.

“You will not?” he repeated, as though he couldn’t believe what she’d said. As though his words would strike her, and she would suddenly decide that oh, of course, she meant to say yes when she’d said no.

“No, I will not marry you,” she said, just in case he didn’t understand her. Which it now appeared he did, as his mouth had opened wide in a totally astonished way.

“Then I will have no choice.”

Which was the most idiotic thing she had ever heard, because of course he had a choice, and he was choosing to cause scandal.

“Fine.” She walked off the dance floor, flinging her shoulders back and trying to keep her spine as straight as possible, so she wouldn’t show how much she was trembling.

She returned to where she’d been standing, and to him.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Of course, he’d noticed.

“Fine.” She was saying “fine” a lot, even though things were anything but.

“This is our dance.” He sounded almost tender as he spoke, and it made her feel trembly inside, as well, but not a bad trembly.

Should she tell him? Although, what would she tell him?
Even though my
nickname is the Abomination because of what I wear, I am writing a fashion column, and much of what I’ve written about has been things I’ve learned from you, so you see, my questions haven’t been entirely innocent
.

No. She would not tell him, not right now, at least. She just wanted to enjoy this dance before whatever was going to happen happened.

If that meant she was a coward, then she was a coward. But a coward who was going to dance with the handsomest man in the world. So that was worth it.

The music began, and he took her into his arms, holding her substantially closer than Charles had. Of course, she had no complaints. He smiled down at her, those gorgeous, lake-blue eyes filled with knowledge, it seemed to her. Knowledge of what she looked like naked, what she tasted like, and all those other things that she could barely express in her mind.

Which reminded her. She did still have some questions, even though … well, after Charles spoke, she might not have the chance to speak with him again, not without dragging her mantle of scandal along with her.

“I know it is called a penis,” she began, keeping her voice low. “But there must be other names for it, aren’t there?”

He staggered and stepped right on her foot, before righting himself and staring off with a determined expression over her shoulder. There was a vast and heavy silence between them. Not in the room, of course; the music was still playing, it would be odd if the whole world—as defined by Charles—stopped just because she’d asked something so totally inappropriate in public.

To be fair, she had lowered her voice.

“I did tell you to ask me anything,” he muttered. “I will answer your question later. When we are alone.”

“But we might—,” she began, but didn’t want to explain why they might never be able to be alone together again.

Stupid Charles. She had more questions, and she had lost the taste for asking anyone but David, who was soon going to be forced to cut her, even if she knew he did not want to. That was the way the world—Charles’s whole world—worked. And like it or not, David was firmly in that world, and needed to stay in it in order to remain feeling
useful. Which was his most fervent wish.

“Fine.”

They kept dancing, only not speaking, but she did notice he kept glancing at her as though he wished to say something, but then thought better of it.

So that is what it looked like. She’d never not said something she wanted to say before because she’d thought better of it. She was renowned, in fact, for saying what she wanted to say when she wanted to say it.

Except for right now. And that she wasn’t saying anything, wasn’t pouring her heart out to him about stupid Charles and his ridiculous threats meant that she had learned to value something beyond her own questions.

A shame it took so long. It was likely too late.

And, another shame, she had totally and absolutely fallen in love with him. A realization she’d finally come to just when she was on the brink of ruin.

She had terrible timing.

When the dance was over—far too soon for Charlotte’s liking—they walked back to where Anne stood, talking with Mr. Smeldley. He really was a pleasant-looking man; she wondered if Anne found him pleasant as well.

She nodded at David before tugging on Anne’s sleeve. “We need to find the retiring room. Will you excuse us for a minute?”

Anne was quick to pick up on Charlotte’s less-than-subtle hint. “Yes, excuse us.”

“You’ll save the fourth dance for me, Lady Anne?” Mr. Smeldley said, his cheeks tinged with pink. He was almost cute, in his earnest way.

“Of course,” Anne replied.

The two ladies walked toward the hallway, where Charlotte knew the ladies’ retiring room was. “What is going on?” Anne asked as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone. Charlotte didn’t answer; she spotted the room and pushed the door, pulling Anne in with her.

The retiring room was thankfully empty except for one wan-looking debutante who was fussing with the bodice of her gown. She started guiltily, then scurried out, but not before pulling the gown down just that much lower.

Charlotte sat down on the small settee in the outer room, and Anne did the same.

“Your brother knows about the column.”

Anne’s eyes went wide. “He does? But how?” she began, but then clamped her hand over her mouth. “It was me, somehow, wasn’t it?” she said, but the words were muffled.

Charlotte nodded. “It doesn’t matter how he knows, just that he knows. And you know what else?” she asked, but continued before Anne could respond. “He told me that unless I agree to marry him, he will tell everyone it is me writing it. Given my reputation, that will cause quite a scandal.”

Anne drew her hand away, her eyes still wide. “You’re not going to, are you?”

“Are you joking? Of course not! I mean, the only advantage is that we would be sisters-in-law, but that wouldn’t make up for the fact that I would be completely miserable. No offense to you.”

“None taken! I would be miserable knowing you were miserable. So what are you going to do?”

Charlotte shrugged. “There’s not much I can do. He will talk about it, Society will then talk about it, my mother will shriek and cry, and I will lose my chance of making a reputable marriage. With anyone who knows anyone who knows me, that is. I wonder if I can locate a charming hermit somewhere,” she mused.

Anne poked her in the arm. “This is serious! What will Lord David say? I read that one column that was so clearly about him; how do you think he will react?”

Probably not well, she thought sadly. She had responded strongly—albeit with reason—when she discovered he was initially only paying attention to her because her uncle had asked. What would happen when he discovered she was likewise using him for something?

“Uh … I don’t know. If I had to guess, I would say he would be angry.” She felt her face getting warm as she recalled just how she had been able to actually see him naked, not just wish to see him so.

She also wished she hadn’t written that particular column. But once again, her words had run away from her before she could think, so it was her own fault.

Was she on the brink of the end of her life as she knew it?

That was both terrifying and exciting.

Not that she had been given a choice, precisely, but she would be able to do what she wanted. No Mr. Goddard, no Lord Charles, no being mocked by Society for her taste in clothing. She was bound to be mocked no matter what world she lived in, but at least it would be a new and different type of mocking.

She was very much looking forward to the adventure.

Anne poked her again. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

Charlotte jumped, and shook her head. “No, sorry. What did you say?”

“I was telling you that I will do my best to rebut anything anyone says about you. It is simply not fair that my brother is … is such an ass,” she said, her last words coming out in a rush.

Charlotte leaned over and patted Anne’s hand. “I appreciate it. You are a good friend. Even if your brother is an arse.”

The two ladies sat silent next to each other for a moment. Charlotte sighed. “Let us return. Your brother might have already started dropping hints, and I want to be there in case my mother faints or something.”

She rose, feeling another great, welling sigh furl up out of her lungs. It was going to be difficult for the immediate future, but then … her heart felt almost light at the prospect of finally, finally making her own decisions.

She just wished she could have made more decisions with him. Very bad, but deliciously fun, decisions.

That was probably the biggest regret she had at the moment.

***

The whispering began all around him, in a great rolling wave of inference and gossip. He didn’t pay attention at first; he was too preoccupied with how she had seemed. Distant, and a little sad. Was she regretting what had happened between them? Would she decline his offer when he made it?

He was definitely not used to feeling hesitant and uncertain when it came to women. Or when it came to getting his way in anything, actually. He had been lucky to be blessed with his face; it made certain things a lot easier, even though—as he’d
explained to her—it also complicated matters.

But there it was, the rustle of words floating around the room, nearly tangible as the gossip was spread from cluster to cluster.

“Did you hear?” Louise had a particularly malicious look on her face, and he felt his chest tighten. It had to be about—

“Lady Charlotte is the author of that fashion column, of all things. ‘What Not to Bare.’ I’ve just heard.”

She kept her gaze fixed on him, no doubt to gauge his reaction. Thankfully he’d gotten good enough at his job not to let anything change his expression. Unless someone asked him for other words for his cock, but that did not come up that often.

“I hadn’t heard. And how was this discovered?”

Louise lowered her eyes, but not before he caught the spark of delight in them. She really was an awful person. “I am not sure, only I have it on the best authority, the lady’s friend’s brother.”

“Lord Charles.”

This time, he would not have been able to resist punching the man, if he were here. To spread rumors about Charlotte, and a fashion column, after he’d bestowed that nickname on her. It was despicable.

And Louise was still speaking. “It would not have been noticed, or remarked upon, except she dresses as she does, and one of her columns … Well, she intimated that she would very much like to see you unclothed.” She had a smug smile on her face, no doubt meant to remind him that she had, in fact, seen David naked.

He’d forgotten that column. The immediate concern that gossip was being spread about her was replaced with an immediate fury. It was her, wasn’t it? And that was why she had been asking so many questions, and seeking his advice on fashionable matters, and asking about his smallclothes, of all things, and …

Had she just begun this whole adventure in pursuit of information for her writing? Had he been used?

His expression must have darkened, proof that indeed, she could unsettle him, because Louise gave a start. “Goodness, you look as though you wish to murder someone. Someone, perhaps, who wishes to take liberties with your person?” she added
with a titter.

He felt his lips curl up in disgust and walked past her without saying another word.

And ran right into her.

Her expression brightened when she saw him, but her smile wasn’t the full, happy one she usually had.

“You’ve heard.”

He stood so close to her he was nearly on top of her, and he felt, rather than saw, the entire room turn to stare at them. He retreated a few inches. “Yes. I have heard.”

“And you’re upset.”

“Yes. I am upset.” He didn’t dare to speak more than a few words, he so wanted to shout at her, about how irresponsible she had been, and how used he felt, and that he loved her anyway, but damn it, why did she have to let her words—this time her written words—get her into trouble so often?

“I wish you wouldn’t be.” She spoke so matter-of-factly, as though he could just turn his anger on and off when he felt it coursing through him like he’d been struck by lightning. Struck by Charlotte.

And then the solution came to him, so easy and obvious he was surprised it hadn’t walked up and introduced itself. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I will fix this,” he said, and spun on his heel before she could reply.

***

What in the world was he going to do? There was nothing, as far as she could tell, that he could do. That wouldn’t involve violence of some sort, anyway, and that would cause far worse a scandal than her penning something about wishing to see him naked.

And she knew he could not afford scandal, which is why she felt so awful and why he had been so angry. Even though he shouldn’t have been; he must know that nearly anyone would want to see him naked, even if not all of them wrote about it. At least not in a public newspaper. She couldn’t speak for anyone’s personal journal.

She kept watching as he strode across the dance floor to where Charles stood with
a group of other young gentlemen. He wasn’t going to—

But he stopped and spoke to Charles, and did not hit him, as she’d half-expected. Instead, it seemed as though he were explaining something, and at one point, everyone looked at her, and she felt a bit queasy, as though something was happening that was entirely out of her control.

She did not like it.

At last, right when she was about to march over there herself and demand to know what was going on, David walked back to her with a knowing look in his eye.

“Whatever you do,” he said as he took her arm and began to walk, almost dragging her behind him, “do not act surprised.”

Well. That was the most ridiculous instruction she’d ever been given, because how could she not act surprised when something was definitely surprising? Unless he was about to announce that she was, indeed, the author of the column, which everyone, including her, knew already.