The Rake and The Rose (A Rake's Mistake) (20 page)

He watched her walk away and nearly leapt upon Charles to knock his head in. But instead, he followed, wondering what would happen.

He was lucky he did.

Charlotte wondered where they were headed and realized that Charles had nearly herded her into a secluded room. She gulped, and did not like where this was going.

Where is Alex?
Her heart questioned desperately looking for a way to escape. Charles looked happy as he watched her "You are quite lovely Charlotte."

"Thank you."

"I do hope you are happy to be here with me."

"Of course I am Charles." She smiled at him and he stepped closer.

"Hm, I think you need to forget all about Cromwell."

"Whatever do you mean?" She asked warily, not wanting to hint at what they had shared.

"Well, you two just seem. Close."

"He saved my life Mr. Whitmore...Of course I am close to him." She pretended to be examining a bookshelf intently, her face feeling hot.

"I think it's very close...so I thought perhaps I'd wipe that pretty head of all thoughts Hm?"

"I beg your-" she turned to question him and Charles's mouth slammed into her own roughly. Her squeak of surprise did not match the ferocity with which she struggled, but his weight kept her pinned to the bookcase. He released her lips and she gasped.

"Charles, what the bloody hell are you doing, get off me!" She hissed at him as his hands groped her through her dress and corset. "Get off!" She slapped at his shoulders, but he was not taking no for an answer.  She felt his hips lean against her and her eyes went round with terror. He was kissing her throat, biting and demanding a response-, which was to writhe not in pleasure, but in revulsion. He yanked her head back messing up the delicately placed style.

"I'm going to have you Charlotte. Whether you like it or-"

The final thing he was going to say was cut off by something of an inhuman roar. He was lifted off his dandy feet and hurtled by his outer jacket to the floor, with a loud
oomph!
Her hand was caught in a heated grip and she was yanked behind a large mass.

"Alex." She nearly wept with relief, as she clutched him from behind her hands digging into the material of his coat. "Thank God." She exhaled and pressed her nose into the warm scent she knew so well. Every inch of his body was taught with male outrage, she shuddered as peace took over "Alex?"

He on the other hand had not even heard her. His chest was heaving and she saw in the mirrors in front of him that there was a blank look in his eyes. Deadly. Within two moments he had gently dislodged her hands and leapt upon Charles smashing into him with accurate force.

"Alex!" she screamed. He was not stopping this time as his fists easily found their mark. People ran to the source of the sound. Anne came hurtling in with her parents and gasped seeing her.

"Charlotte!" she ran to her and clasped Charlotte's hands, as her mother and father watched wide eyed at the men...well rather man who was in battle as Charles was desperately trying to not get hurt, not that it did him much good.

"Charles trapped me here...It isn't Alex's fault. He was protecting me." It all came out in a rush and Anne hugged her close leading her away.  Alexander stopped, mid grapple as he had Charles in a headlock

"You." he eyed Charlotte with his maddening gaze. "Stay. Right. Where you are Sweetling." she froze.

Anne froze.

Everyone simply, just froze.

No one dared move when his voice had hit the gravelly, low and quiet rumble.

"When I'm through with this filth-" he spat the word down at Charles, who was gasping and clawing at Alex's arms for air. "We are going home." it was not a request, or the voice of a gentleman that came from this man.

"But-" she started as if doing so would make him see reason.

"Don't argue Charlotte,” he growled "Not right now, or by God I'll make him pay." Charlotte had never seen Alexander like this. He looked enraged, beyond the point of return and she stepped forward despite Anne clutching at her and everyone's audible gasp.

"Alex," she whispered but he did not hear her. She took two long strides and was running her fingers through his hair, he growled low in his throat much like a wolf defending a kill. "Alexander. Stop. He is not worth smudging your good name."

"He's worth every smudge I'll earn Goddamn it! He tried to touch you!"

The word you was emphasized. She realized it was not that she had been touched, though that was part of the issue, but that anyone, especially Charles, would even think of touching what belonged to him, was what had started his rage.

It lit her entire being up like a torch with hope. He really did love her... "I want to go home Alex." she whispered, and he froze.

"What?" he blinked as Charles gagged, not quite losing enough air to kill him, but Alexander's arms loosened slightly as her words went into his rage-addled mind.

"I said, take me home Alex. I want to go home. With you." Her voice was steady and suddenly she stepped back.  Alexander yanked Charles up with him and promptly slammed him face first into a wall causing blood to spurt from his already beaten in face.

"If you ever, so much as look at my Sweetling again. So help me, but even she will not save your worthless hide, nor God Himself should He choose to try and intervene, Whitmore!"

"You're mad," Charles coughed. "You're absolutely mad Cromwell!"

"You'd do well to remember the next time you see Charlotte. And remember, she is mine. No one else's." The deep riveting growl from inside his chest sent electrical surges through her frame, as the bright green eyes bore into her for a moment of utter possession.

Anne and Charlotte, along with everyone else in the room, stood stock-still. Some, who had been watching them together, smiled approvingly, having never liked Charles to begin with. (Some even had bets on how long Alexander would last in his temper.) Ladies swooned at the sight of such a heroic and romantic declaration by the Lord who supposedly would never marry after his betrothed had abandoned him.

Said Lord straightened himself out, his mouth bleeding from a slight cut where Charles had gotten one good hit, and that had been the end of it. Charlotte walked closer and dabbed at it with her handkerchief, startling him, his narrowed green eyes caught her own.

"Charlotte." Her name on his tongue sounded like heady ale and it swamped her senses and fogged her mind.

"Yes?" she whispered as his hand closed against her own against his face. 

"Let's go home," he murmured a soft gaze tracing over her face.

She nodded and took his arm, glancing once at Charles, who was crumpled on the floor with only a few besotted women crooning over him. They walked to the carriage and he gently helped her in. And then The only sound was the clopping of hooves, and the squeaking of wood on the ground.

C
hapter
15

The carriage ride would have been warmer if it was filled with corpses, for it was silent as the grave. And Charlotte had no idea how on earth to break the stormy demeanor Alexander had about his face.

"Alexa-"

"Do not speak Charlotte." the reply was like a whip cracking through the air.
 

"But-" her voice was soft and supple.

"No," the reply was quick and his snake-like eyes coiled around her as if to squeeze whatever information he thought she was hiding from her being.

“What," he asked after a moment, "in God's name," he inhaled again, as if to control him, "were you thinking!" He finally burst out, failing in keeping his tone calm.

"I was thinking you wanted nothing to do with me!" she snapped.

"What gave you," his mouth hung open in half concealed rage “that impression?” his eyes became hardened.

"Over a week, Alexander! A week! No word! No Apology! No anything! And all of a sudden, you're in love with me? Forgive me, but I accepted Charles's request out of pure necessity, not of want!" She stamped her foot in the carriage, and blinked her eyes rapidly, damned if she would cry in front of him now.

"I sent you letter after letter, with no response!" he cried. He saw her face go still. "What?" she whispered.

“I sent you so many damned letters, did you not get them?" he exhaled as if in pain, the expression upon his face finally showing his true self.

Her heartstrings twanged at the sight.

"But-but I sent you letters, as well," she stuttered now looking confused. "I sent one my first day! I asked you to come to tea to talk...but...you never came . . ." She wrung her hands, looking at his shoes.

It was Alexander's turn to look stunned. "You sent me a letter?" The whisper was barely audible.

"Yes, though the boy said Giselle got a hold of it. I should have known she wouldn't want you to have it." She sighed heavily and tossed her mussed hair back. He watched her for a time, looking at her face, her hair. And wondering how on earth he had forgotten her beauty in only a week.

"So, did Anne find anything out?" he coughed.

"Oh- no I was a bit indisposed to answer questions . . ." Charlotte's tone was embarrassed. Alexander wondered if she had been as miserable as he.

Charlotte was watching him, perplexed, as if trying to figure something out. But he felt the rage boil again when he looked at her neck, the one that Charles had been trying so hard to kiss a mere hour earlier.

"Alexander?"

"Hm?" he growled.

“Um...what is wrong?" Her lips pursed. He had a feeling she knew what was wrong.  Her eyes seemed to travel fully along his form and they gleamed in the moonlight as the dress hugging every supple and womanly feature of her body. "Anne invited you,” she whispered.

"I know. I received a call from her earlier."

"So that was where she went!" Charlotte's mouth agape, she laughed incredulously. "Sneaky woman..." the rest of it was lost as Alexander chuckled, his anger dying slightly.

"You look lovely, Charlotte," he purred in appreciation.

"
Looked
lovely Alexander,
looked! 
Then you had to go all barbaric and ruin my flounces and pretty sleeves..." She pouted like a child and tried to straighten her dress, that had gotten a bit tossed about when Alexander had launched himself at Charles and ripped her away and behind himself.

He leaned over and kissed her thoroughly after dragging her across the gap between the seats and onto his lap. "Alex-" he smothered her protest in another lingering kiss.

"Sweetling, do hush up." He let his fingers play across her features, savoring what he had missed for what seemed years, spanned out over seven days. Her skin, her taste and her scent all wrapped up in one womanly figure and steel tempered spine. "I'm going to have you. No more waiting." He whispered in a low tone that had been borrowed by a demon against her lips. She shuddered visibly and he caught the dilation of her pupils. "I love you. And you're going to be mine, Sweetling."

When her only response was to nod, he kissed her, tracing his tongue along her mouth invitingly. Before Charlotte could answer the carriage stopped, and he leapt out. The moment her feet touched the ground, Alexander picked her up and walked briskly up the stairs.

For a moment he felt red hot rage, it was the second time he had to hit Charles, and now within an inch of his life. This time he had nearly done it to the point of not stopping. But now she was here, and safe…and she felt so soft in his arms, looping his neck with her own.

"What are you doing?"

"Hush." He did not trust himself to speak yet. They walked briskly past the staff that for all better reasons kept a good distance. He glared at Giselle and the others and growled low as he passed. "We are not to be disturbed unless there is a fire burning the estate to the ground...even then. Get some damn water and deal with It." he reached her room and he walked in and shut the door soundly; set her down.

Charlotte watched his eyes. They had again dilated to where the green disappeared, that animalistic hunger taking over. He took a step to her, but she backed away. "Alexander we need to talk," she said softly.

He did not look like he wanted to talk at all. But with gritted teeth he growled and leaned against the door. "Fine."

"What you did was not acceptable. Someone could have really been hurt…" She crossed her arms. "I'm afraid I don't approve at all. You embarrassed the Essex family. And, I am rather...I will not...I did not approve at all," she finally said.

"Why?" he asked a brow rose.

"It was…it was…" she sputtered unable to really tell the truth. It had been invigorating! At the sight of Charles trying (and failing) to do what Alexander had done with her had driven him into a rage. And the fact that he had stopped his assault, from no one else’s word but her own, sent a thrill through her heart. The fact that he had fought for her, and won was the epitome of primitive and yet she loved him for it.

"Why?" He seemed to get an inkling of her problem. "Did it confuse you Sweetling?" She gulped, and he stalked forward. "Hm? Did it confuse you to have a man go near insane that he'd be willing to kill over jealousy?"

"Jealous-"

"Yes…Jealousy, and didn't I warn you?" he asked conversationally. "What would happen if that man ever so much as looked at you again?" He stepped closer each length of muscle cording and relaxing in agitation.

"Alex…" she backed up and felt the bed against the backs of her thighs.

"Oh yes, I love how you say that…
Alex
…" he growled at her "You're the only one to ever call me that you know. So supplicating in that tone, you are. It makes me nearly want to show mercy . . .Nearly, but I don't think you understand what you've unleashed Charlotte. Not bloody well by half."

She was not terrified.  She knew he wouldn't hurt her. She was more afraid of her body's response to such a primitive way of thinking.

"I told you I am not something-"

"To possess?" The low tone of the question meant he had to lean down to brush noses with her. But, it did not really seem like a question at all. It was an observation, and a realization in one.

He wanted to own her…and as if by magic her thoughts had reached out to his.

"I will possess you, all of you. For you are mine… You were mine when I spotted you in the woods in nothing but a night rail and chemise, tattered and torn about the wind. You were mine when you came to me that night, after I had taken what I rightfully thought as my own and sent you on your way. It proved that you are as drawn to me as I am to you. By a string...no- a chain." His emerald eyes looked half crazed as they swooped over her dress, bodice, and face and finally rested on her eyes and the look pierced her soul.

"You will not merely be mine. You. Are. Mine." with that said she was snatched up by the wrist and yanked into his chest. 

"Alex," she tried to take a detour and his expression was one of a pleasurable vengeance.

One that she knew he would thoroughly enjoy extracting on her person.

"Tell me, you are mine,” he whispered softly against her forehead his lips trailing soft kisses along her nose and cheeks. "Tell me, Charlotte. That I possess you." He began unbuttoning the dress from the back with quick fingers. The silk shed and pooled to the floor. His fingers attacked the strings of her corset and stays. "Charlotte." he chided her for no response nipping her mouth. "I want to hear you say it. 'Alex I am yours'" his tone was grated and heat riddled.

"Alex you know-" he was sliding her drawers off, leaving her chemise. 

"Oh I know I possess you, but I want you to say it…and before I am done with you…you will be screaming it."

Charlotte wouldn't have been able to tell him anything, even if there were a brace of ghosts behind him, her tongue felt so swollen. He had her against him in the most provocative way, his body sizzled with power and heat from under the layers of clothing, and she realized this was spiraling out of control rather quickly. "Alex, I already said that you couldn’t possess me." She sounded firm and sure, except for that tiny waiver of apprehension.

He looked triumphant at that small sound "Tell me." He easily pushed her onto the bed and was on her in a flash. His hands dove into her hair, and she arched; causing the neckline of her chemise to tighten on her chest outlining the stiff buds that ached for his touch.

“Just a taste…” she heard the breathless whisper above her as his eyes glittered and his voice choked out the words as though they were made of glass. “Just one taste…” his head ducked and he swiped one bud and then the other through the fabric, sucking each into his mouth roughly.

He stopped and looked at her longingly before he pulled her up to him and tugged the offending item off. She gently fell back against the bed. He twined his tongue around the cream and raised bud before sucking it into his mouth again. Charlotte cried out and clutched his head to her body.

“Alex.” her breath came in panting gasps, as if she would never be able to catch it.

“One…one more taste, just one more....” his hands were fumbling against her, touching her as if she might break.

She ran her fingers through his hair and felt him shudder. "You...you possess me." A curse sprang from his mouth before he gave into the inner struggle he had been having for months.

Desperation, that was what he felt like. His hands were now skirting across her breasts, molding them in his hands before his mouth traveled to her lips. Alexander held himself up on his hands, hovering over her. She watched him look at her; and she blushed at her nakedness.

"Alex?” 

"Yes?"

She had to tell him.

“I’m a virgin…Alex.” She whispered it. Charlotte watched him stop short and stare at her.

“What?”

“A virgin…Sophie had the doctor check, I mean I haven’t-"

He was exasperated and nearly laughed. Alexander stared at her, hard now. He felt as if he was seeing her for the first time. All the things seemed to click into place, the locket, her prim nature at the teahouse, how certain things just came naturally to her. As if she had been taught as a young child how to act, but did not know of it.

“You can’t be one and be a virgin…” The missing courtesan was told to be well knowledgeable in the acts of romance and seduction…so that meant…She was pure.

She had to be Lady Devisher…or at least someone of middle class birth. He needed to go talk to Essex but.... Either way…a revelation struck him like lightning.