One Week To Wed. Laurie Benson
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‘I do believe you might be correct in your assumption. I am truly sorry.’
Stretching out his arm, he motioned for them to return to the table. ‘It will not be the first time I have been a target because of my bachelor status.’
‘There are those who might see our presence in this room together as rather scandalous,’ she replied, taking her seat.
He paused before sitting down. ‘Do you believe your friend will make it known in the village we spent time alone like this?’
‘Heavens, no.’
The brief sense of panic that flashed in his eyes cleared and he sat down. ‘That’s reassuring to hear, because if there were to be a scandal about me, I would hope it would be a bit more exciting than just taking breakfast alone with you.’ Lord Andrew’s gaze dropped to her mouth.
His teasing made her smile. ‘Are you referring to other closed-door escapades?’
‘Well, considering the conditions outside, I suppose one would be forced to remain inside behind closed doors...unless one was eager to get wet...outside.’ There was a wicked glint in his eye and a slight curve to his mouth. He arched his brow, silently challenging her to respond. There was no lecherous leer to his lips—no intimidation with the posture of his impressive form. He appeared to be a man who enjoyed playful conversation.
‘I’ve found I prefer a bit of solitude behind closed doors.’
‘Because you simply haven’t found the right company, my lady,’ he said with a knowing smile, making her grin.
‘And do you find many people whose company you enjoy, my lord?’
‘Surprisingly, not many. I am rather discerning, if you must know. And I much prefer the company of a single companion to many.’ His gaze seemed to penetrate her. ‘There is something about devoting your complete attention to one person that I find utterly satisfying.’
Charlotte had not thought about having sex in years. That part of her life was over...and yet suddenly she was imagining what this man’s touch would feel like and what it would be like to be the focus of his attentive ministrations. ‘Surely your attention wavers a bit.’
Slowly, he shook his head, all the while never breaking their gaze. ‘If we are playing in hypotheticals and you are the company I am with, I can assure you that you would have my complete undivided attention. And I would be most eager to engage in any activity of your choosing. Especially if it did involve getting wet.’
It was becoming difficult to take a deep breath. She must have tied her stays too tight this morning. She should end this conversation now. It was beyond improper and she had had no experience in discourse such as this even while she had been married. But his playful safe smile drew her back. ‘What a gallant companion you would be,’ she replied, ‘but I have no wish to cause you any hardship against your will.’
His lips twitched with amusement. ‘I would gladly suffer through any hardship for you, my lady. I believe the experience would be most fulfilling.’
The imagine of him filling her made her intimate places tingle. This man was the devil—but she didn’t want it to end. She glanced out of the window and gave a dramatic sigh. ‘I imagine getting wet outside would be such an inconvenience...hypothetically speaking.’
‘If the gardener was present, I would agree.’
She let out a low laugh and pressed her fingertips to her lips to hold in the rest. The corners of his eyes creased as he took a sip from his cup and turned to the window. It was raining harder now, obscuring the view of the gardens.
A flush of heat rose up her neck and she stared down at her empty cup.
‘Do not fear I will try to coax you out into the rain, Lady Charlotte. I know your comments were made in jest.’
Did that mean he didn’t want to get her wet outside? Why did that notion leave her feeling dispirited? She had never considered having sex outside her bedchamber—at least not before he mentioned it. And if people did have sex outside, where would they have it? Were people really so inclined...not that she was...or ever would be...or would ever be in a position to engage in such an activity...but still, where would one do something like that? She hadn’t thought about sex in years. Now suddenly she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
‘Are you certain you are not hungry?’ he asked, cutting into his bacon, apparently unaffected by their conversation. ‘It really is quite good.’
She leaned towards his plate, surveying the crispy pieces. She needed to focus on food, not sex. ‘Were they all that well done or just those you have graciously taken?’
He studied the piece on his fork. ‘I’d say half were like this.’
It really did smell so good and smoky, and her stomach had settled down. Now it felt as if it would rumble with hunger any minute.
Which it did, to her mortification.
‘Are you one of those women who survives on toast and tea? I assure you a hardier breakfast will do you no harm.’
He didn’t have to convince her of that. She enjoyed starting the day with something rather robust. She stood and walked to the sideboard. The smoky aroma was so tempting. She selected the crispiest pieces from the china platter along with two slices of fluffy bread and went back to the table.
Lord Andrew had been skimming the paper next to him, but when she sat down he examined her plate with a smile. ‘That’s much better. I honestly do not know how some women sustain themselves on so little food.’
‘I enjoy the taste of food too much to survive on toast and tea, as you so aptly phrased it. You may go back to reading the paper. I will not consider it discourteous, although with the weather as it is, I assume that is not today’s edition.’
‘It isn’t, but I did ask to see any papers that were about. I thought it would give me a glimpse of what has been happening here.’
Charlotte cut into the meat and her mouth began to water. ‘I’ve read the London papers on occasion. I doubt you will find anything of interest to you in those editions.’
‘How can you be certain? Copies of the Observer are circulated in London and I’ve read about the unrest due to Parliamentary repression.’
‘Are you a Member of Parliament, Lord Andrew?’
‘No, I am a mere second son.’
She put her fork down and wiped her lips. He bore no military title. He must be one of the wastrels who spent their days at the gaming clubs and lived off their family’s money, while men like her husband gave their lives to ensure he was able to live his life under British rule. ‘I would think a man with your title coming from London would have no interest in what happens up here. Unless your interest is purely because you are staying here.’
‘I should remind you, Lady Charlotte, although we shared an amusing conversation, you do not know me.’
‘This is true. I do not. But famine and unemployment do not seem to be an interesting topic for a privileged bachelor from London.’
She was being rude. She knew it, but was unable to stop. Perhaps her testy emotions with him had something to do with the feelings of desire he was stirring inside her—feelings she needed to forget. To him it was all a game. Meanwhile for Charlotte it was... She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but there was no denying she didn’t like him as much now as she had before. It was easier for her to deal with him if she painted him in a poor light.
‘And how do you know these things do not interest me?’ he asked while wrinkling his forehead.
Jonathan’s brothers had never expressed interest in those outside their social circle and the London bachelors Lizzy wrote to her about were only interested in game and drink. ‘You yourself said last night that you came here seeking pleasant conversation with