Belong To Me (book 4) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (8 page)

“That would be refreshing.” George led Charlotte into the sitting room.

Ian offered Mrs. Archibald his arm and followed behind. With his friend paying such close attention to Charlotte, tonight would be torture, plain and simple!

* * * *

Charlotte walked into the room on stiff legs, her heart pounding so hard it threatened to leap from her chest. She wasn’t aware that her hand was squeezing George’s arm until he slowly pried her fingers loose.

“Keep up the good performance,” George whispered in her ear.

She really had no idea what he meant. George was the one performing, not her. She couldn’t mumble a coherent word without her tongue getting in the way. My, but she did enjoy seeing Ian squirm. A powerful feeling swept over her, and she liked the effect. At least she wasn’t the only person acting like a perplexed adolescent.

Although lines of anger marred Ian’s expression, he politely carried on a conversation. Every time she added her opinion, it brought her his attention. His intent gaze skimmed over her as she sipped her sherry, making her heart skip.

The butler announced dinner, and Ian hurried to offer his arm. “May I escort you to the dining room?”

Before accepting his offer, she glanced at George for his approval, hoping it would infuriate her husband.

George merely nodded. When she looked back at Ian, his jaw hardened. She secretly hoped her ploy worked.

She took Ian’s arm and walked beside him into the dining room as gracefully as she could with quivering legs. Her mind constantly fought the delight sweeping through her from his nearness. She welcomed Ian’s attentiveness, but his shallowness bothered her. She knew he acted this way only because of his jealousy over George. Her physical appearance had nothing to do with the person she’d become. Although she’d changed outwardly, she hadn’t on the inside. Ian hadn’t bothered to get to know her then, so why would he now?

They sat around the table and the butler served a fancy seafood dish. By the way Ian smiled at
her,
she knew he had this menu prepared especially for her tonight. He’d remembered her favorite dish from this afternoon’s meal.

Ian inquired about their plans for their time remaining time in Bath, and he made some suggestions for places they might want to visit. He offered to be their tour guide. She didn’t readily agree, but George acted as if this would be acceptable.

Ian wiped his mouth with a linen napkin then placed it on his lap. “I know it’s sudden, but would you be interested in going to the opera tonight? One of my favorites is playing, and tonight is the last night.”

She shrugged, but before she could answer, George cleared his throat. “I don’t know.
Charlotte, my love?”
She met his eyes. “Does an opera interest you?”

“I—um—well, I don’t know.” She glanced at Allison.
“How about you?”

Her friend nodded. “I think the opera sounds lovely, and Charlotte, I know you enjoy them as much as I.”

Unease washed over Charlotte and tightened in her chest. When she left the table and walked into the parlor with the others, she took hold of Allison’s elbow and whispered, “I cannot go out in public looking like this.”

“I don’t think you have any other choice now.”

After Ian excused himself to retrieve his cape and hat, she turned and clasped her hands together. She paused to catch her breath. Her corset felt too tight. “But I cannot wear this. It’s indecent.” Her voice trembled slightly.

Allison patted her hand. “Just keep the cloak around your shoulders. If Ian tries to take it off, tell him you’re chilly.”

Charlotte laughed softly. “What possessed me to wear this?” Heaven forbid if Ian discovered she had worn this dress for him. She didn’t want him to know of her insecurities.

George moved beside her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Wearing this gown was the best thing you could have done. Can’t you see how it’s affecting him? He’s so jealous it’s hard for him to see straight.” He grinned wickedly.

“Jealous? That’s utter nonsense, George.”

“Just keep up the good work. We almost have him where we want him.”

She scrunched her brow. What was he saying? Where did she want her husband? She opened her mouth to voice her confusion, but George turned and walked away with a knowing grin. Suddenly an uneasy thought occurred to her. Was she just a pawn in the game her friends were playing?

* * * *

Charlotte sat rigid in her seat at the opera. Beside her, George made a spectacle of himself, fawning over her every time she moved. She clenched her jaw, trying to keep from screaming. Below their box, the performers sang, but she didn’t hear a word.

Instead, she tried listening to what was happening behind her, where Ian and Allison sat. Charlotte busied her hands, toying with the ends on her shawl. George’s gaze constantly dipped to her shoulder whenever her shawl fell away, and his fingers softly caressed her arm. His attentiveness drove her insane, and to make it worse, she couldn’t see if his display had any effect on her husband.

Then again, what was her wayward husband doing with Allison? Charlotte fisted her hands, stifling the urge to peek over her shoulder.

When the curtains closed for intermission, she sighed heavily.

George stood and touched her shoulder. “My dear, would you please excuse me? I see some friends across the room, and I must speak with them.”

She drew her brows together, and shook her head ever so slightly, hoping he could tell she was turning down his request.

Ignoring her, he smiled. “I’ll only be a moment.” He kissed her on the cheek and hurried out of their box.

She glanced at Ian. His eyebrow rose. She silently cursed George for choosing this moment to flee.

Allison stood and smoothed out her skirt. Ian quickly rose beside her. “Mr. Fielding,” her friend began. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go visit the powder room.”

He took a slight bow. “But of course, Mrs. Archibald.”

Charlotte jumped up. “Allison, I shall join you.”

Allison nodded, but just as Charlotte stepped toward her friend, Ian clasped her arm and stopped her.

“Could I have a word, please?”

She glanced at Allison who gave her a dismissal wave. Charlotte cast a scornful glance at her husband’s fingers around her arm. He withdrew his touch.

“There’s still thirty minutes left of the intermission. Would you like to take a little stroll outside with me?” he asked.

The evening’s shadows would make their walk tempting and might bring back sensations she didn’t want to recall. Refusing his offer was essential. There was no way she could be alone with him—especially outside.

Charlotte shook her head, but he didn’t give her a chance to voice her answer. His hand slid around her elbow as he led her out the nearest door. Clenching her jaw, she forced her feet to follow him. Although she didn’t want them to be alone, she also didn’t want to create a scene. They walked around many couples who had come out to partake of the crisp cool air. The walkway was well lit—unlike the room they had occupied last night.

Had it really only been last night when she kissed him so passionately?

He took her farther away from the others until they were nearly secluded and stopped. “You are probably wondering why I wanted to speak to you.”

She clutched the shawl tightly around her neck.
“Yes, actually.”

He turned toward her and folded his arms across his broad chest. “I’ve noticed the way George acts around you, and I must say that I don’t approve.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“Although he made it quite clear he wants you as his next conquest, the fact still remains,
you
are a married woman.”

Her lips twitched as she tried to hold back a laugh. “That didn’t seem to bother you yesterday.”

“Well, things have changed,” he quickly continued. “It’s not appropriate to allow George such pleasures out in public, and especially in front of your own husband.”

“We’re getting our marriage annulled, so why should it matter? Besides, I’m quite certain you haven’t remained true to your marriage vows. In fact, you thought I was a different person last night.”

“That’s untrue. I have not bedded another woman since we married. And last evening was different. I was trying desperately to get information from you about my case. I—I felt by giving you a few kisses might sway you.” His jaw hardened, and a nerve jumped in his cheek. “But the fact remains we’re still married and your behavior with George is scandalous.”

She released a bitter laugh. “Oh, Ian, I cannot believe you. You don’t make any sense.” She flipped her hand in the air, which caused the shawl to slip down one of her shoulders. The air against her skin caused cool tingles against her rising body temperature. “First you were reluctant to admit you even had a wife, and now you’re dictating what I can and cannot do? What gives you the right?
You
were the one who abandoned the marriage. Not I.”

His gaze roamed over her shoulders and across her throat before his jaw relaxed. The small amount of light from the moon let her see a spark of desire in his eyes. Her heart hammered. She didn’t dare admit she enjoyed the way he looked at her.

“I have every right to dictate to you.” His tone was husky.

“No, Ian.” Her voice shook. “You relinquished that right when you left me.”

“Then I’m taking my rights back.”

Clamping his hands over her shoulders, he pulled her to him. His head bent and captured her lips. She pushed her hands against his chest, but he was much stronger. His fingers bit into her shoulders and she fought harder, but his persistent kiss burned like a fire on her lips. His mouth eventually wore her resistance down, and she relaxed against him, participating in the kiss.

His lips softened against hers and she sighed. This was what she’d wanted all night. Since the moment he descended the stairs in his townhouse looking so handsome, she’d thought of his arms around her and his mouth moving across hers in passion.

She slid her arms up his chest, hooking them around his neck. The out of control rhythm of her heart sent warmth careening through her—just as strong as last night.

He broke the kiss and rested his lips against her cheek. “Charlotte, you are so very beautiful tonight. I was afraid this was going to happen when I saw you walk through my door.”

Sensations erupted in every nerve of her body and she dared admit she enjoyed the way he kissed her, the way her body fit against him. But her mind argued, reminding her of how much he’d hurt her.

“No, Ian.” She breathed deeply. “The only reason you want me is because I don’t want you. And the only reason you think I’m beautiful is because of the alluring gown I’m wearing.”

“You are incorrect, my dear.” His arms tightened around her waist and he kissed her lips again. He caressed her bare back, which the dress provided for him. A deep sigh tore through his throat.

She loved the thrill, wanted more of it, but not right here. This was improper.

Pushing her hands against his chest, she quickly withdrew from his embrace. “Ian, the only reason you want me is because another man wants me. You don’t love me. Lust is the only emotion you’re feeling right now.” She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, keeping her bosom hidden. “This body you ogle is only a tiny part of who Charlotte Ashley Fielding really is, and you are not willing to get to know the real me. From here on out, I will not be used!”

With a heavy heart, she turned and ran back into the building, leaving him standing alone.

* * * *

Ian stared at the performers on the stage but didn’t see a thing. Confusion clouded his mind from Charlotte’s words. He didn’t fully understand women, Charlotte in particular. Didn’t women want men to notice them? Wasn’t that why Charlotte wore that particular dress? And now that he had noticed her, she still wasn’t satisfied.

Charlotte had wanted his attention during the three days after their marriage, and now as he practically drooled over her, it appalled her. She accused him of trying to use her—yet wasn’t that the very thing George was going to do? George didn’t want a wife, just a mistress.

A movement from Charlotte pulled him to his senses. She kept her gaze locked to the stage, but it seemed all he could do was look upon her as he sat beside Mrs. Archibald in their assigned chairs. What did his wife really want? She’d mentioned there was more to her than just her body. What did he want out of this relationship? Did he even want a relationship? These endless questions plagued him, making his head throb.

He’d ignored his wife since their marriage, and now she was back and more beautiful and passionate than he’d ever thought possible. But she sought an annulment, and she expected him to watch George paw at her person in public. That he would not do. So maybe he was jealous, but this was not fair. He ached to touch her as a husband had rights to do.

Ian’s thoughts were still in turmoil during the carriage ride home. On impulse, he invited everyone inside his house. They retired to the drawing room where the ladies were offered sherry while the men had a whisky. George’s attention remained on Charlotte. The longer she allowed it, Ian’s temper lifted. He bunched his fists at his side. After what seemed like eternity of torture, he couldn’t take it anymore.