Page 46 of Always the Chaperone

Charlotte.Her name made him shiver all over. With purpose and certainty, William reached out and opened the door.

There she was, just as he had imagined her. Standing by the fire, book in hand, dressed in a nightgown barely covered by a thin dressing gown, reaching for the bell.

William’s jaw fell open. It was as though, once again, she had walked straight from his mind and into the world.

“Charlotte,” he breathed.

She looked up and yelped at the sight of him, her book sliding to the floor.

“William!” she said, quite evidently shocked to see him. “You must not–I am not dressed for–Matthews said someone needed a chaperone…”

Her voice trailed away as she became conscious of her apparel. William grinned. It was impossible to be more delighted. He had always wondered what had been underneath those drab gowns, and now he knew. A body so delectable, he wondered how he had managed to keep his lips and teeth away from her for so long. A slender waist and rounded breasts. Long legs waiting to encircle him. Waiting for him. Ready for him.

“I did not know that…” She did not seem able to form full sentences as she pulled her dressing gown around her more tightly. “I was ringing the bell for Danvers to bring some clothes down from my room–when Matthews said… chaperone…”

Her splutters did not distract him from noticing the faint flush in her cheeks, the way she looked at him in shock but also in delight. By God, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She just did not have the words to express it.

William nodded and stepped forward. “At this rate, Charlotte, it’ll be you that needs a chaperone.”

She took a step back, her eyes wide. “You cannot be serious—William, you cannot be here! What if someone saw you?”

“Nobody saw me.”

“You cannot possibly know that for certain. Matthews saw you!”

William shrugged. “I wanted to see you, and I care not who knows. I am not ashamed about the way I feel for you.”

Silence fell, and he wondered whether he had gone too far. By God, but he owed Matthews more than a guinea for allowing him into this room—the old butler must be more of a man of the world than he had estimated.

But Charlotte was not easily persuaded, fully aware of her worth and value. Who in her position would permit him to stride into her home and make love to her?

She stared, arms folded across her chest, clearly thinking hard. If she didn’t accept him, there was no point. He would rather leave than make her feel coerced.

Charlotte sighed, and William’s heart sank.

“You…you have come all this way,” she said quietly. “You may as well stay for a drink.” She gestured to the nearby cabinet.

William’s stomach roiled uncomfortably. Was that just politeness? One drink and then be off with you? Or was that, have a drink and then another, and stay here until the early hours?

“Aren’t you going to have one?”

Charlotte shook her head. “I never touch the stuff. Well, except once.”

A smile crept over her face without embarrassment. William’s curiosity piqued.

“You will have to tell me about it,” he said easily, stepping over to the bottles and helping himself to a small portion of port. It would not do to completely lose his head. It was best he remained sober this evening, so every sweet memory—or painful moment—could be remembered.

Holding his drink carefully, William sat on the sofa, hoping Charlotte would join him. She hesitated, standing by the fire, her eyes flickering over the various seating options in the room.

All she needed was a little encouragement, permission to be reckless. He patted the seat beside him, and after a moment’s thought, she lowered herself onto the sofa, as far from him as possible. William sighed internally. He had an uphill battle ahead of him.

“There is a story there,” he said breezily, leaning back.

Charlotte frowned. “Where?”

“In your smile. In your comment about one drink, and one drink only. I have to say it is not a surprise, considering what you said about your father.”

That’s the way to seduce a woman. Remind her about her horrific father.