Seduced At Sunset (11 page)

She leaned up on one elbow. “May I ask you a question?”

He nodded.

“What exactly is happening here? I only ask because I need
to know if we will do this again. If not... if it will just be these two
nights... If that is all you want, I will not ask for more. But I must
confess—I nearly went mad over the past four days, wanting you as I did,
not knowing if I would ever see you again.”

His expression was inscrutable as he lay on his back,
looking up at her. “Why didn’t you pay a call? Or send me a note?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

“So you waited for me to make the next move.”

“Yes.”

He laid his hand on her cheek and stroked softly with his
thumb. “Come closer,” he whispered. “Lie down.”

She laid her cheek on his shoulder while he ran the pad of
his finger up and down her arm. “You were in my thoughts as well,” he said.
“Every day, especially at night.”

Her heart turned over in her chest. “Then why did you wait
so long to send a note?”

He took his time answering. “I was trying to fight my
desires. I wasn’t comfortable with how... overwhelming they were.”

“That, sir, I understand completely, for I, too, was
fighting my feelings. I don’t wish to become overpowered by them.”

For a long moment, they lay together in silence until
Charlotte was forced to ask her question again. “So, what should I expect, Mr.
Torrington? Are we to be regular lovers? Or will we part ways and continue to
do battle with our passions?”

“First of all,” he said, “you must call me Drake, at least
in bed.” He continued to rub the rough pad of his finger over her shoulder, and
she wanted to disappear forever into the magic of those hands.

“And yes,” he continued, “we are to be regular lovers, for
there is no need to torture ourselves. Are you in agreement?”

“Most definitely,” she replied, leaning up on her elbow
again.

She was feeling far too exuberant at the thought of more
nights like this, and perhaps other sorts of activities as well. She longed to
be near him, to be able to admire him, even from a distance, and to flirt with
him... touch him.

“I must have your word, however,” he said, “about
something.”

“Anything.”

“You will not tell anyone about us, and you will not
expect me to accompany you to the theater or other public places. I am here for
the summer only, Charlotte, and not for the Season. I will not welcome a slew
of invitations. I do not want my presence here to become known, nor do I wish
to become a source of gossip.”

“Because you were notorious once,” she said, understanding
him completely, “and you wish to lead a private life. As do I. So I will ask
the same of you. Please do not reveal my secret to anyone. I am referring to
what you know of Victor Edwards, of course.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Agreed.”

She smiled and hugged him close.

“I am not sure how long I can continue to sneak out in the
middle of the night, however, without getting caught,” she said. “Are there any
other places, other times, we can meet?”

“How about a long, leisurely drive in my coach?” he said.
“Or another boat ride on the Thames?”

“Or a picnic in the woods,” she suggested, “if this
infernal rain ever stops.”

He ran his thumb lightly across her lips. “Secret lovers,
then,” he said.

“Yes, but just to be clear, I will not be your love slave.
You may not wish to fraternize with London Society, but I do not wish to become
a recluse either. I have a life you know, and there are always invitations to
balls and whatnot. So do not be surprised if sometimes I am not available at
your beck and call.”

“Understood,” he replied, looking amused.

“Excellent. On that note...” She tossed the covers aside
and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I must go before the sun comes
up.”

“Not yet.” He leaned across and reached out to massage her
shoulder. “Ten more minutes...”

Intrigued, she glanced back at him. “I know what you have
in mind, sir, and ten minutes is not nearly enough.”

“Anything is possible, darling, when passion is involved.
Now lie back down, and I promise I will make it worth your while.”

Naturally, Charlotte surrendered, for it was an offer she
simply could not refuse.

Chapter Nine

The Halloway Ball was an absolute crush the following
night. Everyone who was anyone was in attendance, for the Prince of Wales had
announced he would be there to enjoy the famous Halloway turtle soup.

The ballroom, located on the second floor of the
fashionable Mayfair mansion, was marvelously illuminated by four crystal
chandeliers that reflected the light from hundreds of candles and a number of
shiny brass sconces on the walls.

As Charlotte entered the ballroom with Adelaide, they were
greeted by their hosts. Once inside, they helped themselves to glasses of
champagne, brought around by a handsome liveried footman, and spoke to many
acquaintances, old and new.

Charlotte was invited to dance a quadrille within ten
minutes of their arrival, and Adelaide was escorted to a half circle of chairs
with an excellent view of the floor, where some of her oldest, dearest friends
had staked their territory.

It was the Earl of Whitcomb who first invited Charlotte to
dance. He was a friendly and handsome older gentleman with four grown children,
and had been widowed just over a year ago. He was often the object of
speculation, for he had his heirs. Now all he needed was a pretty young wife on
his arm to make his life complete. Charlotte had always rubbed along well with
him, but considered him a friend, nothing more.

The fact that she was not attracted to him in that way was
doubly obvious tonight, after experiencing the throes of true passion in the
arms of a man who excited her beyond comprehension. As she danced through the
steps, she found herself wishing that Mr. Torrington was not so against making
appearances in Society, for it would have made her night more than special if
she could see him here and dance with him. Perhaps to escape onto the balcony
alone with him, and secretly flirt as passionate lovers.

But he would not be here tonight, or any other night for
that matter, so she vowed not to let that spoil her mood. She would dance as
much as she liked, and she would enjoy herself.

When the set came to an end, Lord Whitcomb escorted her
back to her mother, and in that moment she spotted a familiar face and felt her
heart leap with joy. The earl bowed politely and took his leave, and Charlotte
tugged at her mother’s sleeve.

“Look who is here,” she said, gesturing toward the small
cluster of guests on the far side of the room, nearer to the orchestra. “It’s
Doctor Thomas.”

“Oh yes,” her mother replied. “He lives here in Mayfair.
Of course he would be here.”

He was kissing the gloved hand of another lady, however,
and escorting her onto the floor.

A heavy lump of disappointment dropped into Charlotte’s
belly. She glanced at her mother, who was also watching.

“He is always so popular,” Adelaide said, without the
slightest display of ‘woe is me.’ “You can hardly blame the ladies, can you?”
she added. “He is such a handsome and amiable man.”

Charlotte studied her mother’s countenance. Sometimes she
was not certain how Adelaide truly felt about him. Perhaps she
did
consider him a friend and nothing more.

As Charlotte watched him dance, she wondered if his
partner could be the woman he had spoken about in his office. The one he had
been courting.

She was younger than he was, perhaps in her late forties,
and was blessed with a slender figure and strikingly dark features. They made a
handsome couple and spoke to each other as if they were very well acquainted.

A short while later, however, Charlotte saw him escort
another lady onto the floor. She was equally lovely, and he was equally
charming.

Then there was a third lady, at which time Charlotte
decided to give up keeping count.

Truth be told, she was angry with him. Surely he knew she
and Adelaide were in attendance. Charlotte had been out on the floor a few
times, yet he had not come over to say ‘hello.’

“Why won’t he at least acknowledge us?” Charlotte
whispered in her mother’s ear when they had a moment to themselves.

“Who in the world are you referring to?” Adelaide asked
with some displeasure as she sipped her champagne.

“Doctor Thomas, of course. He has danced with every pretty
lady within ten paces of his person since the moment he arrived.”

“You sound jealous,” Adelaide said with a laugh. Then she
leaned very close to Charlotte. “Darling, you must forget about this and not
imagine that we will ever go back to what we once were. How many times must I
say it? We are friends now, and that is all we will ever be.”

Charlotte suddenly felt very foolish with her lofty dreams
of romantic destiny and clever matchmaking. But how could she simply let it go?
She knew everything about their broken hearts all those years ago. They were
like Romeo and Juliet. For once, Charlotte wanted that story to have a happy
ending. She wanted to fix the past. To rewrite it, if she could.

Just then, someone spoke her name. “Lady Charlotte, I
wonder if you would do me the honor of joining me for the next set?”

Managing a courteous smile, she set down her glass and
laid her gloved hand upon the gentleman’s arm. “How kind of you to ask, Mr.
Tremont. I would be delighted.”

She followed him onto the floor.

As Charlotte began the first steps of another quadrille,
Adelaide set down her glass and turned toward the large bank of French doors at
the rear of the ballroom, for they opened onto a wide flagstone balcony lit by
torches at each corner. There were few people outside, for a fine mist hung in
the air. It was the sort of weather that could cause a lady’s hair to frizz
instantly and give her a chill. Adelaide could not care less about her hair,
and she was so angry, a good shiver in the cold might serve her well.

She was angry with Charlotte for pushing her toward
William—as if she were some young debutante experiencing her first London
Season, and was on the hunt for a handsome gentleman with whom to begin a
thrilling courtship.

Adelaide was hardly a young girl, and she’d had enough
life experience to understand her own heart and manage her life. She had been
married for over forty years and had given birth to five children. She had
survived that tumultuous marriage, and somehow, in the end, had made a success
of it. Then she had nursed her husband through a long and devastating illness
in the final decade of his life. She had stood by him faithfully and devotedly.

She had suffered a great deal of heartache and tragedy in
her younger years, yet she felt blessed with what she had achieved, for she had
five wonderful children and a house full of grandchildren. If given the choice,
she would not change a thing about the past, for it would alter the present,
and she firmly believed she had lived the life she was meant to live.

“Adelaide...?”

She was standing at the cement balustrade looking up at
the dark, cloudy night sky, when the sound of her name, spoken so familiarly,
caused her to jump. She turned around to see William standing in the doorway,
looking as handsome as he had over forty years ago, when he had come home from
Italy to try and convince her not to go through with her wedding.

“You must be freezing out here,” he said, removing his
jacket and approaching her with it. He draped it over her shoulders. It was
still warm with the heat and musk from his body, and it felt... heavenly.

“Thank you,” she said, hugging it about her. “I was just
beginning to shiver.”

“What are you doing out here?” he asked. “I was frustrated
just now, for I wanted to dance with you. Unless your card is full? Am I too
late?”

She looked up at him in the flickering torchlight. He was
not wearing his spectacles this evening and looked not a day older than... Oh,
what did it matter? He would always be the same young man she had known since
girlhood. His eyes, his smile, the sound of his voice... They would always be
the same.

“Charlotte tells me you have a lady in your life now,” she
said, for she and William knew each other well enough to be honest and open,
and it would not do her any good to pretend she was not aware of it.

“Yes,” he replied, as he moved to sit upon the balustrade.
“I have been courting someone.”

“I am so happy for you,” she said. “I hope she is
everything you deserve, and you deserve the very best, William. Will I get to
meet her one day?”

He gave no reply, and instead turned to look out over the
dark lawn. “It was such a pleasure to see you in the park earlier in the week,”
he said. “I’m sorry I did not return the following day when you said you would
be there.”