Page 21 of Falling for a Footman

Thirteen

Hell and damnation! This should not feel good. He should not be noticing how soft her lips were or how perfectly matched in height they were. Usually when James kissed a woman standing up, she would have to tip-toe and he would have to scrunch over in an uncomfortable position. But not Charlotte. She was tall enough for him to simply plant a kiss on her lips just by dipping his head.

And her breasts! She was tall and relatively slender, but still robust enough that her breasts would fill his hands. And now they were pressed flat against his chest, making him all too aware of her how hard her nipples were. It should come as no surprise to him that she wanted him; he had seen it on her face, but to feel it... it did things to his body. Things his body definitely should not be doing in the presence of a young innocent woman.

He should pull away from her. He knew that. He should simply take a step back and put distance between them. Tell her that he had no interest in her that way. And yet he had been standing here for how long: Minutes? Hours? Holding her against him, his lips meeting hers but not actually kissing her. He was not certain whether she thought that they were kissing or whether she was aware that kissing required one to move your lips. It would be a shame if she came away from this and thought that this was a real kiss. At least he should probably give her something to compare others with. So that she would know what a real kiss was.

Slowly James began moving his lips over Charlotte’s. Her soft lips were still beneath his at first, but then she started moving them as well. James gave an encouraging sound deep in his throat. He was not yet ready to break the kiss and tell her how good it felt. He teased her mouth open with his tongue and gently explored the warm depth that already had him much closer to losing control. Charlotte met his tongue with her own and her eager movements told him that she wanted to explore as well as being explored but the slight pointiness to her tongue gave away her inexperience. It should put him off, but it only felt endearing. A warmth spread in his chest that she was the first man she ever kissed.

Charlotte’s arms snaked around his back and James could not help but press even closer to her, obliterating all air between them. His groin came into contact with the soft area between her hips and he heard her slight moan. He managed to catch himself and slowly pull away from her. Just slightly, just making an inch of distance between their bodies and a hairbreadths distance between their lips. He both heard and felt Charlotte protest as her hand tightened on his back trying to draw him closer to her again.

"We can't do this, Charlotte," James whispered against her lips, but could not move more at the moment.

Charlotte’s hands relaxed on his back, and he heard her gulp audibly.

"No," she mumbled, and he could hear the disappointment in her voice.

“Not ever,” James felt the need to repeat as much to her as to himself.

Charlotte nodded and the motion was enough to bring their lips into contact again, to cause a delicious friction that send a shiver down his spine. It would be so easy to kiss her again. To deepen the kiss. To walk her the few paces back to his bed and see just how far she was willing to take this. He would never deflower her, but his body screamed for the release he knew would only increase tenfold if she was the one giving it to him. He could not, however. They could not. Ever.

"You have to leave, Charlotte," James breathed and was finally able to step away from her.

Charlotte nodded but stayed right in front of him. Her gaze that was not completely meeting his was a bit dazed. He waited another moment for her to speak but she did not.

James turned around and put his hand on the doorknob before briefly looking into the empty hallway.

“No one’s there. Come. I'll walk you down,” he told her. When she did not immediately react, he took her hand. Only to make her follow him he told himself. It had nothing to do with what had just happened between them. Her hand was slenderer than his, but the fingers were long and strong as they wrapped around his. He liked that her hand was not delicate and fragile, but robust, warm and... dependable was the best word he could come up with.

James shook his head as he hurried down the hallway and tried to forget the warmth that radiated between them. He had removed his gloves as he walked up the service stairs earlier. Mr. Curtis would probably have reprimanded him if he saw since the gloves where mandatory for footmen at all times. But the gloves had been just as soaked as James’s jacket was.

When they reached the door at the end of the hallway James let go of her hand to open the door and peek into the landing. He quickly stepped through and once again took her hand to make her follow. When he took the first step, he felt her squeeze his hand and almost stumbled onto the second step. He turned when he was standing securely on both feet to look up at her. He was certain that she had understood what he said: That they could never be anything. That nothing could happen between them and certainly not them being alone together. But there she was giving him the tiniest smile and squeezing his hand again. James felt a faint smile crease his own lips before he continued down the stairs. When he felt Charlotte follow him, he could not help but squeeze her hand as well.

***

"Took you long enough," William mumbled good-naturedly as James entered the dining room where the table had been pulled aside and the chandelier lowered to floor height.

The duchess would be hosting a small party the next night and Curtis had instructed them on how the dining room should be absolutely sparkling. Hence why they had lowered the chandelier to wash it. James would have to come down with something that day to make sure that he was not recognized by any of the guests. He was not afraid that the vicar and his wife would recognize him, nor the local squire who according to the other servants was an elderly widow. It was the gentleman farmer and his family and especially the retired colonel that was renting Farleigh Cottage that might pose a problem.

"Well, you know," he answered William and hoped that it was answer enough. He continued his job of washing and wiping each of the crystal drops in the chandelier, while he tried to ignore the pleasant warmth that was still humming through his body after his encounter with Charlotte.

His mind however was occupied with figuring out why she had been there. She could not have been waiting for him as she had told him: She could not have known when he would enter his room or even whether it would be William or him entering.

The urge to curl his hands into fists arose at the thought that Charlotte might have kissed William just as readily as she had him. He doubted that was the case but could not help but look at the other man that was looking at the crystals that he was meticulously washing while humming a tune. A chill ran through James’s body as he recognized it. It was the one James had recently learned in London and found rather catching. The one that Charlotte had asked him where he had learned.

"Do you know it? The song?" he asked cautiously, hoping that the tune had reached Somerset already and his mistake was not as grave as he had initially thought, but somehow doubting his luck.

"No, just the melody. You whistle it quite a lot," William answered.

Blast, James had not counted on an answer of that kind. He needed to be careful. He could not let anyone know that he had in fact come directly from London before he came here and not from Suffolk as he had wanted people to think.