Marrying Miss Monkton. Helen Dickson
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business of reaching Calais unmolested, each road they took beset with dangers, he seemed offensively at ease.
Sensing her closeness, he was suddenly alert and his eyes snapped open. As he met her hostile gaze, his brows arched in surprise, and a slow appreciative smile spread across his lips.
It was a disconcertingly pleasant smile, and the fact that even through a haze of social embarrassment she could recognise it as such, increased rather than diminished her hostility.
‘You cannot be aware of the impropriety of such a visit to a lady’s bedchamber at this hour, or you would scarcely have ventured to knock on my door, let alone admit yourself.’
‘When I came in you looked in a state of delicious comfort and I certainly had no intention of disturbing you.’
Maria flushed. She didn’t like to think he might have stood watching her as she slept. Not knowing how to deal with a situation of this nature, she tried to distract herself from her inner turmoil and avoid his gaze that seemed to burn into her by watching the occasional spark erupt from the glowing embers in the hearth, but she found it impossible when every fibre of her being was on full alert to Charles’s presence.
When she saw his eyes sweep over her body, even though her nightdress was concealing, she felt her modesty, so long intact, was being invaded by this man’s gaze, this stranger, who was beginning to alarm her awkward, unawakened senses.
Folding her arms across her chest in an attempt to protect her modesty and fervently wishing she had a shawl or something else to throw over her nightdress, she glowered at him.
‘Unfortunately I have nothing with which to cover myself.’
Charles chuckled softly. Even in these extreme circumstances she felt it unspeakably shocking that he should see her like this. If she knew how long he had ogled her during her sleep, she’d realise it was far too late for her to try to salvage her modesty.
‘That’s a bit like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted. I assure you, it would not wipe from my mind the loveliness I savoured when I came in.’
Maria gasped, her cheeks burning. ‘Have you no shame? How long did you stand there looking at me?’
It took an Herculean effort for Charles to drag his gaze away from the shape of her body outlined beneath her nightdress in order to meet her gaze. ‘Long enough to know that the sight of you in your bed was sufficient to waken the slumbering dragon in me that I fear will not be easily appeased.’
In spite of his unrelenting stare, his glowing eyes devouring her as if he were strongly tempted to do more than just stare, Maria was distracted and felt a frisson of alarm when she saw he had his long fingers clasped round the butt of a pistol by his side. Her throat went dry. ‘Do you make a habit of sleeping with a pistol?’
‘Only when I deem it necessary.’
‘And is it—tonight, I mean?’
‘I think so. I have no wish to alarm you, but it’s as well to be on our guard at all times.’ He placed the pistol on the table beside him.
‘Charles, you must leave my room. You cannot sleep here. Not with me. It—it’s just not right.’
He sat up, dropping his feet to the floor and pushing his hair back from his face. ‘My apologies, Maria. I did not mean to startle you. As I said, you were soundly asleep when I came in. I did not want to wake you.’
‘Well, you should have done,’ she flared, unconscious of the vision she presented as her hair tumbled about her shoulders in loose array. ‘How dare you take such liberties? You will certainly destroy my reputation if you continue to indulge in such foolery.’
A slow smile touched his lips. ‘It is not foolery—anything but. If you could see past that pretty little nose of yours, you would realise I am only trying to help you. Do not forget that I am here to protect you.’
Mutiny still showed in her countenance. ‘When we embarked on the journey I confess that I did not give much thought to what the sleeping arrangements would be while we are en route. Indeed, the matter never entered my head. My aunt would be aghast if she knew we were sharing a room.’
‘I dare say she would be, and yet I made her aware you would be travelling as my wife. Your reputation is the last thing you should be worrying about right now. I believe,’ he began solicitously, the humour in his voice disguised by a disapproving frown, ‘that you are somehow trying my ability to protect you.’
‘I am not—and I am indeed grateful—but…Oh,’ she gasped in frustration, ‘why could you not have made me your sister—or—or your cousin—anything—anything but your wife?’
‘Because as my wife you have my complete protection at all times. Of what use would I be to you if that oaf who accosted you earlier should take it into his sodden head to seek feminine company and remember you? From what I recall of some of the overpainted, disreputable women I saw in the public room when we arrived, you are by far the most desirable, so who could blame him? You are a rare prize for any man, Maria.’
His gaze never wavered from hers, but when it dipped downwards, Maria saw the light that flared in his eyes, again making her conscious of her lack of modesty. When she glanced quickly down, her fears were realised when she saw the soft, rosy peaks of her bosom straining against the delicate fabric of her nightdress. Raising her head, she met his gaze. Her heart seemed to leap in her throat in a ridiculous, choking way, and she chided herself for being so foolish as to believe he liked what he saw.
‘There is a lock on the door. He would not get in.’
‘He would find a way if he wanted to.’ The sight of her flushed cheeks and the way she had wrapped her arms around her waist in an unconscious act of self-protection brought home to Charles for the first time the fact that his proceedings might be considered shockingly unorthodox to a young woman who had been protected from the opposite sex and the ways of the world for the whole of her life.
Getting up, he towered over her, looking down at her apprehensive, upturned face. ‘You have led a sheltered life under the harsh eye of your aunt, who has rigid rules when it comes to raising young ladies of breeding and class. May I give you a word of advice, Maria? Common sense will always stand you in better stead than a slavish adherence to conventions.’
The shamed colour faded from Maria’s cheeks and the hostility in her eyes was replaced by interest. ‘If common sense is preferable to convention, then it is a point of view in complete opposition to the teachings of my aunt and the many governesses who had charge of Constance and me over the years.’
‘It is my point of view, and I know I’m right—otherwise what do you think would have happened had I not apprehended your drunken admirer when I saw him come up the stairs and approach your door?’
She stared at him in horror, her hand going to her throat. ‘He wasn’t! You mean he actually intended to come in here? But—no man would dare to come to a lady’s room, knowing they might encounter an irate husband.’
Charles nodded gravely. ‘He most certainly was—until I—persuaded him to think again.’
‘And the pistol? Is that part of the remedy to use against that—that oaf?’
‘If need be—which I doubt.’ His eyes glinted wickedly. ‘The man is no longer in any fit state to climb the stairs, let alone molest a young woman in her bed.’
Her eyes widened with alarm. ‘Why, what have you done to him?’
‘Let’s just say that at this time he will be sleeping like the proverbial babe.’ He looked at her through narrowed eyes, his firm lips curving in a gently mocking smile. ‘You left your door unlocked, otherwise how do you think I got in?’
‘But you should not be here.’
A crooked smile accompanied his reply. ‘And where would you have me go—to sleep outside your door, perhaps, which would be considered by some to be most odd