Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord (25 page)

“What is the meaning of that dress?” She pointed back toward the bathing room.

He stood languidly, as though he’d been expecting her outburst. His expression was calm, certain. Too certain for her liking. “It is exactly what you think.”

“I already told you that I would not marry you.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice in the matter.”

“You cannot force me.”

“Do you know what will happen if you go home now?”

She took a step back. Admittedly, she hadn’t the faintest clue. She hadn’t thought much beyond dissolving her engagement to Mr. Warren.

“Let me inform you about what your actions have ensured.” He turned her, directing her toward his dressing room with his hand placed possessively at her lower back. There was a small mahogany table with a mirror. Shaving accessories were neatly lined up along the back.

“You have ensured your removal from society by coming to me last night.” He placed his hands on each of her shoulders and pushed her gently down into the seat. “You have effectively changed your status from debutante and a diamond of the season to a pariah.”

“My father will not turn his back on me.” Though she was feeling less sure about that the more she thought on it.

“As I have already said, you’ve given him no choice but to act according to the rules of society.”

He started removing the pins in her hair. The messy curls fell around her bared shoulders one at a time until the pins were stacked in a neat pile in front of her. The marquess leaned over her, his face next to hers in the reflection that stared back at them. He reached around her, his forearm brushing against the side of her breast as he pulled out a small drawer that contained combs and brushes. He reached for the silver-handled brush and shut the drawer with an audible snap.

His head turned, his mouth but a half an inch from her ear as he whispered, “You, my dearest, dearest Charlotte, are left with but one choice.” The heat of his breath on her skin made her shiver and had her remembering the way his unshaven face had rubbed over her body to create the most delicious sensations the previous night.

She closed her eyes, turned her head away from him, and picked up the brush.

“Why marry me when you’ve never married the women you were associated with before?”

“I told you not to believe much of what the gossips have said. Besides, we’ve developed a friendship these past weeks and I will not let a friend languish on the fringes of society—despite your determination to do just that.”

There was more to the picture than she was seeing, she was sure of it. “What do you gain in marrying me?”

“I get to ensure that Warren is made a laughingstock. And haven’t you told me that he would lose favor before he was appointed a position in the House of Lords?”

She pinched her lips together and parted a section of her hair to brush the knots from it.

“It’s not advisable to play games with politics when you don’t know the outcome of one wrong move.”

“This isn’t about last night, is it? You’re not marrying me because you took my innocence. You’re marrying me because you have a personal grudge against my father and Mr. Warren.”

“We didn’t meet by chance, or because of your unwavering desire for self-ruin.”

“I hate you.”

“For now, maybe. We wouldn’t be the first married couple to be at odds with each other, and certainly not the last when you have to conform to society’s rules or feel the sting of their wrath.”

“You cannot force me.”

He stood behind her, his arms crossed over his chest, clearly not amused by her antics. She would not be his pawn.

What had she done?

“I wouldn’t dare force you. But you have to understand that you can’t go home now. You’ll be denied entry and forced to turn around with only the clothes on your back. Did you think for one moment how you would make off with your precious pin money?”

“This is under your misguided assumption that I will be barred from the house I grew up in.”

“I promise you that that is exactly the case.”

“I’m afraid you don’t know my father as well as I do.”

“I see we will get nowhere this morning. I have some business to attend to in my study. In the meantime, I advise you to get yourself dressed. I’ll send my sister up the moment she’s back from her errands, and you can talk to her about what being the Town pariah truly means.”

With that, he left. She had been about to tell him how wrong he was again, but the door to his chambers clicked shut behind him. She looked in the mirror. Her eyes were wild, her color high. For the first time in months, she began to question her decisions.

Had Tristan spoken the truth? Could she not recover her reputation from all that had happened last night? She’d never thought to go this far, but she’d been spurred on by the repugnant thought that she’d be married to Mr. Warren in four weeks’ time. She’d acted without considering what would happen after her night with the marquess.

She sat there for some time staring at her reflection, thinking about the consequences she would have to face head-on today. She’d brought this upon herself. She wrapped her arms around herself when a sudden chill swept through the room and cut right through her heart.

*   *   *

Furious didn’t begin to describe how Tristan felt. His reluctant bride was probably plotting his death upstairs while his friend looked ready to throttle him if he didn’t have an update on Miss Camden’s whereabouts.

Tristan didn’t have time for Leo, but spared him a few moments to tell him what Charlotte had relayed to him the previous evening.

Leo, however, proved difficult to get rid of. Though Tristan couldn’t explain what had happened in the twenty-four hours since they’d seen each other last, he did promise to send a fast rider out to the Carleton estate to find out the fate of Miss Camden. This was no longer about the wager they had. They’d both deviated far from the path of revenge for Jez, to outcomes neither expected. Leo seemed taken with and was searching for Charlotte’s chaperone, and, well, Tristan was about to become a married man. He was sure Charlotte would come to her senses once he sent his sister up to talk to her.

He could return her to her house tonight, and pretend that nothing had happened. But he wouldn’t. She’d made her choice by coming to him last night. And truth be told, he wanted her even though she might despise him at the moment.

Seeing Leo off, he went into the breakfast room to say good morning to his children. They’d have a mother by the end of the day. Well, Ronnie would at any rate; Rowan, despite not knowing it, had one in Bea. There would come a day when they’d have to tell him the truth.

“Papa,” Ronnie shouted and launched herself into his arms.

For a moment, he worried that they wouldn’t like Charlotte. He hadn’t thought much about their feelings in the mess he’d made. Even more important, what would Charlotte think of his children? Did she even like children? She’d been favorable when they’d discussed them while corresponding. Certainly, she would be welcome to the idea of sharing a house with his motley crew.

He held Ronnie two feet above the ground and smoothed his hand down her blonde hair. “Darling, I’m sorry I couldn’t come down for breakfast. I have a surprise for you, though.”

Ronnie jumped down, eyes wide. “A present?”

“In a sense. Do take your seats, children, I have wonderful news to share with you.”

Rowan shoved his mouth full of croissant, his eyes wide in anticipation. His daughter didn’t touch her food, but put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in the palm of one hand. Her foot tapped in excitement.

“How would you feel about a mother?”

He should have discussed this with Charlotte, and prepared his children sooner … but time had run out.

Ronnie screwed up her face. “You’re going to get married?”

He gave her a warm smile and patted the side of her face. “Today, in fact.”

Rowan’s chin dropped, his mouth full of food. “Rowan, chew your food properly,” he scolded lightly. Instead, Rowan picked up his glass of water and chugged the whole thing down.

“Really, Papa? We’re going to have a mother? What’s she like?” he asked.

Temperamental, furious at the moment, and a woman of her own mind. He would never say any of those things aloud to his children, of course.

“She is a perfect fit for this family,” he settled on, knowing there would be a few bumps as they adjusted to family life together.

“When can we meet her?”

“Today. We’ll be going to church later on and have a nice small wedding ceremony. Bea will help you get dressed just as soon as she’s had the opportunity to meet Lady Charlotte herself.”

Ronnie stood from the table, walked over to him with a stubborn pinch of her lips, and then stormed out of the room. He stared after her, sorry to have upset her. So his children might not be ready for a mother. They’d not had the opportunity to prepare themselves for the change, but they were young and he was in charge of the household, whether they believed it at times or not. It took a lot of willpower not to go after his daughter and try to make her feel better about the situation.

In a perfect world they would have had the opportunity to meet the lady he would marry, get to know her, and grow to like her before any changes were made. But he knew all too well how far from perfect the world really was.

He let out a heavy breath and rubbed his hands through his hair roughly.

Bea walked in at the next moment, an envelope clutched in her hand. “Did I just see Ronnie storming out of here?”

“I’m afraid so. She didn’t take my news very well.”

“Was it wise to tell her?”

“We will be there as a family as my vows are taken.”

“Has your reluctant bride agreed, then?”

He turned to Rowan, not wanting him to hear any more. “Rowan, go find your sister.”

“Yes, Papa.” He stopped in front of Tristan before leaving and threw his arms around his shoulders. “Thank you,” was all he said before he ran out of the room in search of his sister.

“Lady Charlotte is not agreeable to the idea, but she really hasn’t any choice after the events of last night.”

“There is always a choice, Tristan.”

“Should I send her on her way as though nothing has happened and have her marry Mr. Warren in a month’s time?”

Bea pinched her mouth shut and glared at him.

“I thought not,” he said.

“If she’s said no, you can’t really force the issue.”

“That’s why I need you to go and talk to her.”

“She is a stranger to me, Tristan.”

“Yet she doesn’t have a brother to lean upon. She cannot be saved from her mistakes as you once were. And I’ll take no chances in case she carries the next heir of Castleigh.”

“How dare you do that to her! Why would you take away her choice like that?”

“Our night together was mutually agreed upon.”

Bea was shaking her head. “You knew better. She has no experience with men like you and couldn’t possibly have understood the consequences.”

“I gave her plenty of opportunity to change her mind.”

His sister’s forehead puckered as she came forward. There were tears pooling in her eyes and a fury so great he’d never seen the likes of it before. “You have robbed her of her innocence to fulfill your own desires. You had no right.”

“I had every right, Bea. Warren—”

“Warren will find another bride. And now that you’ve chased one woman away and are making her marry you … How do you suppose you’ll stop him in the future?”

“There will be no need. The Fallon name will not save him now.”

Bea’s fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. “You don’t deserve her,” she said, and spun around to stalk away from him.

He sat there stunned, wondering about his determination to claim Lady Charlotte as his own. The truth was he didn’t want to give her up to anyone else. Last night had cemented that feeling.

Chapter 14

Dear readers, I have the most salacious news for you. Wedding bells rang for a certain marquess and his mysterious lady friend. Her identity has been revealed finally, and what an uproar it has created.
—The Mayfair Chronicles,
August 1846 Charlotte had put her hair up in a simple bun with a braid wrapped around it. She pulled the dress down from the bathing room door to spread it out in front of her, and sat on the edge of the bed to look at it. There was a soft knock at the door. She ignored it; she was too furious to deal with Tristan just yet.

The knock came louder. She marched over to the door, uncaring that she was still dressed only in her underthings, and whipped the door open.

It was his sister, Bea, standing on the other side. Her expression was stoic, unsurprised. Charlotte stepped away from the door, inviting the woman in since it didn’t seem she had a choice right now.

“My brother wanted me to help you dress.”

“Did he now?” She didn’t turn to face the woman as she went over to the window to stare down at the garden below.

“Fighting me won’t get you anywhere. Believe it or not, I don’t agree with my brother’s tactics.”