Charlotte's Control, page 25
“Madame, I am an earl and a man. I have always been ready to assume responsibility for my family and staff. I came to you—have continued to come to you—as a man, wanting a partnership. But this is not that.” He sliced a hand through the air.
“William, please, I was attempting to balance the scales, not treat you as anything less than you are. You are indeed a man. You take care of your family, your friends, me.” She was begging, a ball of fear in her throat. He had to forgive her. He loved her still, didn’t he?
“Then why?”
She gulped. Her conversation with Ruth had cleared the way for this, but it was still hard to say after losing her first love. However, the words were long overdue, the reason she’d felt guilty and torn these past weeks. “It was a gesture of love. I am in love with you.”
He unclenched his hands, staring at her with wide eyes. “Charlotte?”
Oh no. He was using her name, not her honorary title he always used. “Please, William, you must know I would never have gone to Ruth rather than you if we had been together. Please, I see you. You are strong enough to take care of all of that and still allow me to command you. You are my puppy, my rakelet, yes. But most of all, you are the man I love.”
He strode to her and scooped her into his arms to hold her tight against him.
She released a breath and sank against him, clutching his jacket in relief and adoration.
His body shuddered against hers.
“William, I truly am sorry. And I love you more than I thought I could love someone. You are the best parts of me. Please forgive me.” She’d continue to beg until she was sure she was absolved of her gross misstep.
He didn’t answer, but his throat moved against her hair.
He needed soothing. How could she have forgotten how tense he could get? She smoothed her hand up and down his back, content to hold him. Forever. She knew she wanted that, but they still needed to talk about children, Ruth, and everything else.
Chapter Thirty-Two
She loved him.
Thank heavens. All the rest they could work out together. His emotions finally under control, William lifted his head. Knowing his eyes were wet, he checked her hair and smoothed it, commenting, “No snot, just tears, I promise, Mistress.”
A small giggle escaped her, as he’d intended. While his joke signaled that he’d forgiven her, he needed to clarify with words.
Charlotte led him over to the seating area and took her favorite chair. He poured them each a much-needed sherry and plopped onto the footstool in front of her. His intent was to show her he did not need their entire dynamic to shift.
“Mistress, there can be no more secrets between us.”
“Agreed.” Her eyes were uncharacteristically lowered to her lap.
“Look at me, please.”
She shot her focus to his face.
“We are equals, partners, yes?” He raised his brows and waved a hand between them. “All this is mutually agreed upon. Always, we’ve exchanged and shared ideas.”
“Yes, William.” Her hand rose and hovered.
He took it and placed it in his hair, where they both wanted it.
“Whilst we will both make mistakes, forgiveness is part of a relationship. Thank you for explaining. I understand the circumstances were unique. And shall not recur.” He narrowed his eyes and firmed his tone.
“Yes, William.” Her fingernails scratched with just the right amount of bite.
He nearly hummed in pleasure but forced himself to remain on the subject at hand. “I forgive you.”
She dropped her hand to his shoulder and leaned forward to kiss him. “Thank you, William.”
Knowing she was not quite ready for a betrothal, he tempered his next statement. “And I can court you. Publicly.”
“Yes, William.”
Damnation, she was compliant. What else should he ask for? No, this was all he needed to win this battle. The war would be his in no time.
“Then we can talk about heirs tomorrow. For tonight, how may I serve you, Mistress?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Charlotte and William fell back into their routine of attending salons together, then discussing their learnings in the garden in good weather, or the seating area in her bedroom on more inclement nights.
As she’d met South, albeit briefly, he wanted her to meet Folly.
“Would you like to have them both to supper here?”
“Thank you. I would like that but not for your first meeting. Folly is unused to the Ton’s conventions and whilst I know you are very accommodating, I think he might be nervous in such a formal setting. Would you be willing to come to a pub in Soho with me?”
They sat in the men’s usual corner She was quite entertained by the prospect of a new experience, as well as meeting William’s closest friends. She was also curious about the man who crafted the metal parts of the leather cuffs and other items she bought from the Orfords.
Folly slid onto the bench across from them, and William performed the introductions.
“Please call me Charlotte.” She gave his friend a warm smile.
“And I am Nate. Or Folly, I suppose.”
“Beth Orford has told me about you.” She winked as William whipped around to stare at her. “But I shall call you Nate.”
“How do you know the Orfords?” Nate asked.
William’s eyebrows were near his hairline as he jumped in with his own question. “Charlotte, do you mean you know Beth and Robert Orford?”
“Yes.” She patted his leg under the table.
“Oh, so those…” His face went red as he trailed off, shooting an embarrassed glance at his friend.
Folly guffawed, holding the table to avoid falling off his seat. “Well, Charlotte, you certainly know how to break the ice.”
Charlotte grinned at him, ignoring William’s pinch to her leg. “To answer your question, I know Beth through mutual friends. Sophia, the current Countess of Peterborough, is close to her.”
Still red-faced, William asked Folly, “Where is South?”
“I haven’t seen him since the last time the three of us were here after the funeral. Have you?” Folly asked.
“No. Blazes. I’m worried. I shall try to catch him at home tomorrow morning.”
“Let me know if I can do anything,” Folly offered before turning to Charlotte. “Now, milady, tell me about how you two met. William has been stingy with the details.”
William stared at his tankard, spinning it by the handle.
Charlotte withheld a snicker. Of all William’s friends, Nate would appreciate the cravat in the garden meeting. But all she said aloud was, “We met at a few balls, after which young William was bold enough to call on me.”
“Was it perchance via trellis or tree?” Folly asked with a grin.
“Why, yes, it was. Do I have you to thank for that?” Charlotte was snickering.
William groaned into his drink as Folly nodded.
They lingered over drinks, the men shooting frequent glances toward the door, but South did not appear.
William appeared distracted as they navigated the stairs at her house.
“I am sorry you are still worried about your friend.”
“Thank you. ’Tis yet another weight on my shoulders. There do not seem to be enough hours in the day. As it is, I see less of you than I’d like.”
“I thought you were adjusting to the rest, despite your father’s last poor investment.”
“I am. You saw my mother, though. Some days it is easier than others to move forward without feeling like I must report back to her. Some days I need to check in because I’m still learning. And Emily is getting wilder by the day, disappearing from the house who knows how many times. Twice I’ve caught her sneaking back in as I’ve come from here. She’s not quite as wild as South…yet.”
They gained her bedroom, and Charlotte turned to him. She could not help him by day, but she could assist in quieting his worries at least for a time. “Strip, Puppy. You are going to get a massage. Perhaps it will relax you. I shall also be naked, though, so perhaps not.”
His smile blinded her and warmed her heart.
* * * *
Charlotte strolled into the tea shop through the door William held for her. Someone on the street called his name as she swept inside. Glancing back, she nodded to him, granting him leave to return the greeting and linger outside.
Perusing the treats, she reflected on the past two months. They had attended salons, lectures, and even the theatre together. They had browsed bookstores and even visited with her brother-in-law and Sophia when the couple was in Town from Peterborough. She had not been sure she was ready to interact with people outside her intellectual salon circle as a couple, but the dinner had been enjoyable and, once she relaxed, even fun. Edward and William discussed all things Parliament and horses. Sophia, always warm and welcoming, disarmed her and quizzed her on William’s courtship.
Nights were largely spent at her house, despite his daytime commitments as earl. But their lessons had lagged due to his new responsibilities.
Sophia had mentioned the possibility of finding a lady—who could have imagined?—who knew Latin and even Greek to help Charlotte pursue her studies. Apparently, there was more to Roslynn’s salon group, including Sophia and Ruth, than Charlotte had realized from her first few meetings with them.
During that period, William had grown from a puppy to…well, a more demanding, assertive puppy. He remained eager to serve at her slightest command, however. She could not imagine life without him. Somewhere in those two months, with him coaxing her out to one event at a time, simultaneously protecting her and proudly parading her at each, she had fallen even deeper in love. She had been swept off her feet by Charles at nineteen. This love, due to its complexity, her life experience, and their roles, was far more complex and layered, although nothing would negate her feelings for her first husband.
William had explained that his mother was comfortable with Percy inheriting the earldom, if need be, but that no one had given up hope that Charlotte might still become pregnant. After all, he’d preened, he was young and potent. She’d punished him for that, making him waste his seed on the sheets that night.
He’d been taking things slowly so as not to frighten her, but she also suspected he did not like money between them. Then a few days ago, he had entered with a triumphant whoop and announced, without even a hello, that he had the payment for her loan.
They had formatted the agreement with no payments due until a few of his other investments matured—or, in the case of the shipping group investment Charlotte had encouraged him to join, provided a return. She had not yet received word from their man of business of the next quarterly payout, but William had. And the successful arrival of more than enough ships to meet the investment pool’s requirement was what he had needed.
He dragged her out of her chair, bouncing on his toes while she donned a pelisse, and marched her down to the financial manager’s office. There, they both signed the loan document as paid in full, to be held and filed by the manager.
William had sped them back to her house where they retired upstairs for a celebration, complete with champagne he’d brought. He deemed it a no-clothes-allowed party and it became quite rowdy. They’d needed a servant to change the sheets before they could sleep that night. The bed linens had been soaked in spilled champagne from them sipping it off their favorite spots on each other.
Now as she stood in the tea shop reviewing everything, Charlotte nodded. She was ready to choose him. To spend her life with her puppy. There was no doubt he loved her and was impatient to start that life together. They had his family’s support. But given the dynamics of their relationship and recent events, she suspected he was loath to push her too hard.
It was time for the Mistress to make her feelings known and direct him as she loved to do. Her relationship with Charles had begun quite differently. But who she was now, so dissimilar to her nine-and-ten-year-old self, was in large part due to Charles’s love. The whole situation was unique, and she rather thought Charles would find this approach amusing.
She tucked her pendant inside her dress, pressed her lips together, and crinkled her brows to make lines form on her forehead and around her mouth. Her clothing choices had been deliberate—a more conservative dress with an older style coat and hat—to appear more matronly. If this scheme did not work, she’d think of another.
“Madame, what can I get you and your son?” the shop assistant fell right into her hands.
William stiffened, having turned to shut the door after entering. He whirled and took a breath to correct the girl.
The young woman looked surprised at his countenance. Regardless, it was the opening Charlotte needed. Snaking her elbow back, she gave him a gentle jab and took a half-step forward.
“Thank you. I shall have one of those miniature cakes please. And this”—she gestured to William—“is not my son. He is the Earl of Harrington, and I am the future Countess of Harrington.” She lowered her chin, raised her brows, and stared at the girl, afraid to look around at William. This might be the boldest act of her life, even more than tying a strange puppy’s wrists in the garden of a ball. Nerves raced along her skin, raising gooseflesh on her arms, as she waited for both of their reactions.
“I beg your pardon,” the girl said, wide eyes ricocheting between her two patrons.
“Mistress—” William’s gasped whisper underlaid the girl’s apology. But he stopped on that word.
She turned to see him sway and grabbed his arm, alarmed.
He shook his head once to clear it, then swung his hand around, reversing their grip to hold her arm. Turning her to face him, he whisper-yelled, “Truly, Mistress?!”
“Quiet, please.” She kept her voice low but gave him a wide grin. “Yes, William. I’ve chosen my cake, and I’ve chosen you. Now, I’d like my cake, and then you may take me home and shout at me all you’d like.”
“Shout? I shall dance, I shall cry.” He turned to the worker, grabbed the cake, and thrust several coins at her, never letting go of Charlotte’s arm with the other hand. He dragged her out to the street, hustling them along at a near-run.
“Puppy, really now. You know the rules about touching without permission. Dragging me about the street warrants a further punishment.” She was reveling now. She’d done it. They’d done it. He was hers to keep, they just had to work out the logistics. “Walk with dignity, for heaven’s sake. You’re an earl.”
He laughed at her, nearly skipping, and she could not help her own ecstatic giggles.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ignoring his Mistress, William continued to drag her home as fast as her steps allowed.
She can punish me all she wants; she is lucky I don’t pick her up and run with her.
Realizing he’d crushed the bag with the cake, he sighed and softened his grip a fraction.
His Mistress was his for the taking! She had chosen him. He’d grown more and more impatient these past weeks, envisioning all sorts of scenarios in which he proposed. But none felt right. She’d said she loved him and ventured out with him and introduced him to friends and family. However, he’d been waiting for her clear signal that she’d chosen him.
He was relieved and grateful that he’d put his eagerness to good use and prepared for this. After their last visit with the Earl and Countess of Peterborough, he’d managed to corner Edward in White’s.
“Lord Peter—”
“Ah.” Edward tsked. “Remember? ’Tis Edward to family and friends.”
William nodded once, feeling tongue-tied. He’d been so eager to have this conversation he’d neglected to consider how to phrase his questions. His Mistress would shake her head at the puppy-like behavior. “My apologies, Edward. Er, speaking of family and friends…”
Edward arched a brow at him, letting him stew.
He fidgeted.
“William, if you cannot say it, you are not ready for it,” Edward admonished, grinning as he crossed one leg over the other.
That phrase broke William’s apprehension. He laughed loud, heaving guffaws of merriment.
Edward stared at him with a puzzled look.
“Is—is that a family phrase, my lord?” he gasped out.
“Not that I am aware of.” Edward was shaking his head, but then understanding dawned. “I take it Charlotte said it to you?”
He nodded, clearing his throat and sobering.
Under his breath, Edward murmured, “Why am I not surprised…”
Mind focused, William found his words. “Fine. I shall say it. If one was—if I was to ask Charlotte for her hand, who would sign the marriage contract?”
Edward’s grin stretched across his face. “I thought that might be it. Congratulations. Or, I suppose, for now good luck. However, I do not think you shall need it.”
“Well, she’s given tacit permission.”
Edward rolled his eyes. “Of course, she has. Hellfire, I think you might need wishes of luck for the marriage, never mind the proposal.”
William smiled. “I would not have it any other way.”
“Good, good. You are well-matched, and all teasing aside, I am sincerely happy for both of you. To your question, the signature on the marriage contract will be mine as head of the family, but that is a mere formality. As you can well imagine, she is the only person whose opinion matters, and is well able to negotiate on her own behalf. I daresay she knows what she wants and what she doesn’t in a marriage.”
“I would not have it any other way.” William repeated.
Now, as William slowed in front of Charlotte’s house, he patted his pocket. He was ready, he’d just been waiting for her signal. They turned into the parlor, Charlotte calling for tea. He hoped she was not anticipating the cake too much, as he suspected it was ruined.
Impatient, he paced until the tea arrived, then held the door for the servant before shutting it firmly and twisting the simple lock.
