More Than Charming (7 page)

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Authors: JoMarie DeGioia

BOOK: More Than Charming
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“I want an answer,” Paul growled.

Lord Roberts dropped his hands to his sides and faced her brother once more. “Leed, I . . . That is . . .”

“Downstairs in my study, Roberts. Now.”

Catherine recovered herself and hid behind Lord Roberts. Paul scowled at her and turned on his heel, knowing full well Lord Roberts would soon follow. She watched as her brother stomped from the room.

“Ah, hell,” Lord Roberts muttered. He turned to her. “Catherine, I’m so sorry . . . We’ll talk later.”

She gazed up at him, her lips parted. He managed a smile, gave her a quick kiss, and hurried to catch up with her brother.

 

*     *     *

 

James found Paul pacing in his study, obviously still quite furious. He squared his shoulders and stepped inside, pulling the door closed.

Paul turned and fixed piercing blue eyes on him. “What were you thinking, compromising my sister?”

“Leed, It’s not what you think—”

“This is not the first time you’ve compromised a lady. If you recall, your infatuation with Becca almost got you called out by Kane! Has it been so long since you’ve had female companionship, Roberts, that you thought to ruin an innocent girl?”

James’s hands were fists at his side, anger causing him to shake. “This has nothing to do with what happened with Becca. It’s completely different. And I haven’t ruined your sister. We were merely, um . . .”

Paul crossed his arms over his chest. “Pray tell me, Roberts. I know full well what you appeared to be doing.”

James laughed, the situation suddenly ridiculous to him. “Leed, you don’t believe I would ever take advantage of Catherine, do you?”

Paul scowled at him. “Don’t attempt to charm your way out of this. If I hadn’t come upon you when I did, you surely would have—”

“No!” James cut in. “I would never treat Catherine in so deplorable a manner. She deserves much better.”

Paul got a gleam in his eye then. James pulled back, a warning bell trilling through his mind.

“Prove it,” Paul dared.

James blinked. “But how do you propose that I—?”

“Marry her.”

James balked. Marry her! “You can’t be serious. Simply because I was—”

“Found in a compromising situation with my innocent sister?”

James narrowed his gaze. “I won’t be forced into a marriage, Leed.”

Paul’s frown cleared. “Catherine has had enough pain this past year, Roberts. I won’t see her hurt again by an experienced rogue like yourself.”

“I would never hurt Catherine. I’m very fond of her.”

Paul arched a brow at him. “Yes. That is quite evident.”

James grunted in frustration. “That’s not what I mean.”

Paul crossed to the door and pulled it open. “Think about what I said, Roberts.”

He was dismissed, then? Fine. Without another word, James left the study.

 

*     *     *

 

Catherine dressed quickly, thinking to take herself downstairs to tea before Paul returned. She had no doubt that he would, knowing her brother as she did. To think that he’d discovered her in such a situation! It was disgraceful. And what of Lord Roberts? Paul had looked ready to throttle him.

She refused to think of how absolutely wonderful Lord Roberts’s kisses and caresses had made her feel. She hastily finished dressing and pulled open the chamber door. A tall figure filled the doorway.

“Paul!” she exclaimed, her hand frozen on the knob.

Her brother stepped into the room. “Close the door, Catherine.”

She did so and turned slowly to face him. His scowl was ferocious. She held her hands in front of herself in a placating manner. “Paul, I realize you’re angry, and—”

“What were you thinking, being alone with a man in your room?”

“I didn’t . . .” she began. “That is to say, it was an accident.”

Paul snorted. “An accident? Pray tell me, sister, how such an ‘accident’ occurred.”

“Very well,” she said, wringing her hands. “I slipped in a bit of water on the floor and fell. Apparently, Lord Roberts heard me cry out and came in to help and—”

“Enough,” Paul said, holding up his hand. “How many times, Catherine?”

Catherine blinked up at him. “How many times?” she murmured. “What do you—?”

“How many times have you been alone with him?”

Catherine gasped at what he was intimating. “Paul, I’ve never! . . . Well, there was that one time at his townhouse, but that was—”

“What!?” he roared.

“It wasn’t as you presume,” she rushed out. “I merely went there to give him my thanks when he defended me to Waltham—”

Paul groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. “You need to think about this, Catherine. Your carelessness could have caused this family a huge scandal had someone other than I discovered your indiscretion.”

Her mouth gaped open at his low opinion of her. “Paul, you don’t think that I would ever do anything to disgrace myself or our family . . . Do you?” she said in a hurt voice.

He pulled open her chamber door and cast a measuring glance over her. “I only know what I saw, sister.” He closed the door and left her there.

Shame washed over her. What had she been thinking, throwing herself at Lord Roberts? And now her own brother believed her a loose woman! She collapsed on the bed and cried, burying her face in the pillow lest one of the other guests hear her.

 

*     *     *

 

James paced the floor of his guestroom, his mind working. What Leed had presumed enraged him. He’d never do anything to hurt Catherine! But marry her?

He’d foolishly thought to take Becca from Geoffrey all those years ago, when his fevered young mind had seen her as the only woman for him. What a bloody fool he’d been. He sent up another silent prayer for his coming to his senses and regaining the friendship of both Geoffrey and his wife and forced his mind back to the present.

Ah, Catherine. The way she’d sweetly responded to his kisses and caresses was still fresh in his mind. She’d been all but naked in her wet chemise, her pebbled nipples visible through the lawn. And when he’d brushed his fingers over the smooth skin at the back of her thighs . . . The stark desire she’d aroused in him was unlike anything he’d ever felt for any woman. Although he’d denied it to her brother, James was honest enough to admit to himself that he might indeed have thrown caution to the wind and taken her there in her guest chamber, making her his in every way. “God bless Leed.”

Suddenly, a grin spread across his face. Of course! It was all so clear to him now. Why not marry her? Catherine was sweet and beautiful and intelligent. They’d known each other for so very long, and got along quite famously. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any other woman.

Yes. He would marry her.

But would she have him?

“She damned well better have me.”

He walked into the small sitting room adjoining his bedchamber. Taking a sheet of paper from the writing desk, he set about penning a note to his intended.

 

*     *     *

 

Catherine stared up at the ceiling, her tears dry on her cheeks. Her shame was now complete. First, she behaved wantonly with Lord Roberts and then her brother had all but called her a trollop. She glanced at the clock on the bed stand and was startled to see it was nearly the dinner hour. Rousing herself, she changed out of her crumpled tea gown and rang for Annie.

Twenty minutes later, Catherine stood in front of the cheval mirror, clad in a gown of silver-blue. Annie had left her curls upswept and unadorned. Catherine pulled on her gloves and studied her face in the mirror. Her nose was a bit red, her eyes shiny with the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes. However was she going to face her brother? And Lord Roberts! Blinking rapidly to keep back her tears, she turned to join the other guests in the great hall to await the dinner hour.

Something caught her eye as she approached the door. Someone had apparently slipped a note underneath it while she was dressing. She picked it up gingerly, soon recognizing Lord Roberts’s masculine hand. She’d intercepted his response several days earlier, tracing her fingertips over the ink until she’d finally replaced it in the salver. But to see her name written in his hand? Oh!

She opened the note and read it, her mouth agape. He requested a secret meeting with her after dinner, she read, when the gentlemen and ladies would be separated. He asked her to meet him in the courtyard garden. How could she? She smiled, a thrill going down her spine. How could she not?

Slipping the piece of paper into her reticule, she looped the ties of the little purse over her wrist and went down to the great hall.

 

*     *     *

 

The ladies adjourned to the parlor after dinner as the gentlemen took themselves into the library for brandy and cigars. Catherine frantically sought to think of an excuse to leave their company. She was eager to get to Lord Roberts, his note fairly burning her through the fabric of her reticule. Much to her chagrin, her attempt to extricate herself from the parlor was waylaid by her sister.

“Catherine,” Elizabeth began, “hasn’t our visit been ever so pleasant thus far?”

“Yes,” Catherine said absently, looking toward the door with longing.

Elizabeth chattered on for ten minutes, driving Catherine quite mad. Thankfully, Constance joined them just then. A thought immediately came to Catherine’s mind, one which caused her lips to curve into a sly smile.

“Oh, Constance,” Catherine began. “Elizabeth was just telling me that she so wishes to visit you at Chesterfield.”

“But, Catherine, I wasn’t . . . Ooh, Chesterfield! Why, yes. That would be ever the thing.”

With Elizabeth’s attention successfully diverted, Catherine quickly slipped from the room. She hurried to the back of the house where a row of windows looked out into the courtyard. She froze as she spied the romantic figure before her.

Lord Roberts was turned slightly away from her, his face set as he gazed out over the darkened garden. The moonlight glinted off his jet-black hair and outlined his dashing form. She took a deep breath, opened the glass door, and stepped out onto the stone path.

He turned, a beautiful smile spreading across his face. “It felt like an eternity to me, Catherine. Waiting, hoping you would appear.”

“Lord Roberts.” She breathed.

“You look like a vision, draped in the moonlight.”

She crossed to him. “That sounds very romantic.”

He shrugged and took her hands in his. “I’m so pleased you came.”

She shivered as she felt his warmth through her gloves. “How could I stay away?”

He pulled her to him, sealing his mouth to hers. She caught his passion and brought her hands up behind his neck, bringing her body so close to his. Moaning softly, he turned and pinned her against the stone wall, pressing intimately against her. She felt him again, felt that insistent hardness against her belly as she had that afternoon. She reached inside of his jacket to stroke his back. He made the most intriguing sound, something between a growl and a moan. Her caresses became bolder and her hands moved lower.

“Ah, Catherine,” he groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

He placed teasing kisses on her throat. She leaned her head back and sighed.

“Lord Roberts . . .”

He froze, then his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Catherine opened her eyes and gazed at him.

He smiled down at her. “Considering where your hands are, love, I believe you may call me ‘James.’”

Catherine realized then that her hands were on his firm buttocks. She flushed. “All right,” she said softly. “James.”

“God, the sound of my name on those rosy lips.” He kissed her again, his tongue sweeping through her mouth. “I want to touch all of you.”

“Like at your townhouse?”

“Yes.” His teeth tugged at her bottom lip. “But more.”

She couldn’t know what he meant, but he sounded almost frantic. “M-more?”

“I have to stop myself before I pull up the skirt of this beautiful gown and take you on one of these unforgiving stone benches.”

His words, his hands, his kisses . . . “Oh!”

He took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Catherine.”

She opened her eyes and stared up at him, her breath coming fast. “Yes, James?”

“Your brother is quite angry with me.” He placed little kisses on her nose, her brow. “He believes that I dishonored you.”

She gasped. “But you didn’t! We’ve never—”

“Shh,” he soothed, kissing her lightly on her lips.

“How can Paul think that I would ever do anything to dishonor the family—?”

“Catherine,” he said again.

James smiled at her, stopping her tears before they started. She smiled in return.

She gazed into his beautiful gray eyes, their silver flecks sparkling at her. “Yes, James?”

“Marry me.”

She blinked in surprise. “M-marry you?”

He nodded. “We get along so well. I want you. And I can tell you want me, too.”

She stiffened. “I don’t know.” She thought of something, something abhorrent, and looked at him sharply. “Did Paul tell you to do this?”

He shook his head. “I do what I wish to, Catherine.” He stroked her cheek with his finger. “And I want to marry you. Very much.”

Her heart pounded. She’d nearly married before, and it had turned out badly. How could she risk going through such a debacle again? Her family couldn’t withstand another scandal. Another disgrace. Then again, it was no fault of her own that Waltham had jilted her. But she couldn’t bear it if it happened again. It would mean disaster for her and her family, not to mention that James and her brother would no longer be friends.

She suddenly felt trapped in his embrace. She couldn’t think about this now, not with him pressed so closely to her. Not with her heart still racing from his kisses, his touch.

He seemed to sense her reticence, for a flicker of disappointment appeared in his gaze. “It’s all right, love. Please promise me you’ll give it some thought?”

She stood perfectly still for a long moment. Finally, she nodded.

“Yes, I promise I will think about it,” she said in a shaky voice.

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