The Redemption of a Dissolute Earl (12 page)

Charlotte didn’t bother with pleasantries
for any of the men in the room as she waited for Drew. They huddled
on the other side near the sideboard of liquor, probably too afraid
to approach her. She paced the room, worry gnawing at her. She knew
Drew would be back for her―that was not what bothered her. She did
not want Drew to have to endure hurtful words from his father.

How long had it been? Five minutes or ten?
The house was big, but surely Drew could have been back by now.
Maybe she should go to him? No, that wouldn’t do. Drew was a man
and could stand whatever his father said to him. She paced some
more, sat in the chair, then promptly abandoned the effort to sit
and paced again. Finally, Drew came through the door, his father in
tow, dressed in a mismatched shirt and trousers, his cravat
half-tied.

Drew dragged his father over to Charlotte,
and she strived not to glower at the man who had caused her so much
misery. Releasing his father, Drew brought her into the protective
circle of his arms. “I planned to tell Father to go to hell and
take my allowance with him if he refused to come and apologize to
you, but there was no need. It seems he’s had an assisted change of
heart.”

Charlotte’s gaze flew to the duke, and he
winked at her.

Drew tapped her side. “Father wants to tell
you something.”

For the sake of Drew and their future
children, Charlotte forced a smile to her lips. “Yes, my lord?”

Lord Norland cleared his throat, his cheeks
blotched crimson. “Welcome to the family, Charlotte.”

And just because she knew it would get under
Lord Norland’s skin―which he richly deserved―she smiled sweetly at
him and said, “I bet you never thought you’d have an actress for a
daughter-in-law.”

Lord Norland’s face flushed a deep crimson.
“I’m sure Drew will see you give up that profession now that you’re
to be his wife.”

Her gaze locked with Drew’s, and he smiled
at her then glanced at his father. “You’re entirely wrong, Father.
I’m thrilled Char is an actress. I’ll be on the front row of every
one of her performances announcing to anyone who cares to listen
that the beautiful woman on stage is my wife, Lady Hardwick.”

“Enough pricking each other with barbs,” the
duke commanded in a loud voice. “There’ll be plenty of years for
you all to needle each other to death. I can’t believe you two
don’t want to get on with your wedding, so you can retire upstairs
and be alone.”

“Right you are, Grandfather, as always.”
Drew grabbed Charlotte’s hand and led her across the room to stand
in front of the Vicar. The ceremony was brief and lacked fanfare,
but Charlotte did not mind. When she stood in the Duke of Danby’s
study surrounded by her father, the Duke, the Vicar, and even
Drew’s father and they toasted to her and Drew’s future, she knew
all she needed was Drew’s love. But what made her happiest of all
was knowing all Drew needed was her love.

Drew slid his hand around her waist after
the last toast and leaned toward her ear. “Let’s go to bed so I can
touch you in all the wicked ways I have imagined for the last
year.”

“I doubt all the wicked ways you imagined
touching me can compare to what I imagined―though I tried not
to―wanting to do with you.”

A devilish smile came to Drew’s face. “Care
to engage in a contest?” He proffered his elbow to her.

“For?”

“Who can be the wickedest.”

She slid her arm into the crook of his.
“Apparently you’ve forgotten I hate to lose.”

“I’ve not forgotten,” he said in husky tone
that slid over her and made her body tremble.

Drew opened the door to his bedchamber and
waved her inside. She proceeded through the door and then stopped
as her eyes adjusted to the light of the room. Candles flickered
all around the room giving the bedchamber she had always considered
cold a warm feeling. Her eyes widened at what Drew had done for
her. Rose petals scattered the coverlet on the bed and a made a
trail to the fireplace where numerous blankets and pillows had been
lain to form a pallet. The last time she had lain with Drew had
been in front of that fire on a pallet much like the one he had
recreated. He had asked her to marry him, and she had been so happy
until he had failed her an hour later by crumbling under the
demands of his father.

And now they were married. And Drew had
proven to her that he loved her and would not fail her. They had
come so far. She should be ecstatic and eager to come together with
him, but for some reason her stomach twisted into knots, though she
could not understand why. It was not as if she had never been
intimate with Drew before. Still, it had been so long since they
had been together, shyness swarmed her, almost as if this was her
very first time.

She turned to Drew, not sure how to voice
her concern and afraid he would think her a complete ninny, but
when she looked at him her breath caught in her throat and lodged
her words there. He had taken off his coat and cravat and loosened
his shirt so that she could see the top of his chest. Her fingers
tingled in remembrance of running her hands over his muscles. “I
see you’re not wasting any time,” she said, her nerves making her
flippant.

“This year taught me many things and one of
them was to never waste one precious moment I’ve been granted with
you.”

His words eased her nerves a bit, and her
shoulders relaxed. Drew came towards her, and as he walked he
pulled off his shirt and discarded it on the floor.

His skin glistened like brushed gold in the
candlelight. She had thought perhaps he might be softer knowing he
had spent his year with a bottle firmly gripped in his hand, but
his muscles rippled as he walked and the desire he had always
sparked in her filled her and pushed away a little more of her
nervousness. “I see being a wastrel for the last year did not
diminish your physique.”

“I drank too much to forget the horrible
coward I had been, but I also boxed every day in hopes that someone
would pound me to death and put me out of my misery.”

“I’m glad they didn’t,” she said, reaching
out and brushing her fingertips near his right eye where a small
white scar she did not remember coursed a one inch jagged line down
his face. “Is this from one of your matches?”

“Yes,” he said, reaching behind her head and
slowly pulling out the pins that held her hair high on the crown of
her head. She stood still wanting to savor the luxurious feel of
his fingertips running through her hair and tracing lightly over
her scalp.

She closed her eyes on a shiver as his hands
trailed back and forth in her hair.

“God, Char,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve dreamed
a thousand times of touching you just once more like this. I could
die now a happy man.”

She snapped her eyes open at his
pronouncement. “That would make me a most unhappy wife.”

His hands ceased tracing and suddenly
gripped the back of her head. He lowered his face towards hers and
brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Charlotte,” he whispered,
trailing kisses down the bridge of her nose to end at her lips. “I
love you so bloody damn much it hurts here.” He grasped her hand
and pressed it to his chest.

His heart beat a fast tattoo under her
fingertips. She swallowed, no longer nervous, only wanting to
reassure him she loved him just as much, and she understood
perfectly what he meant. Just seeing him―what she thought she had
lost―filled her with such happiness her heart seemed to ache.
“Drew, I―”

He set his fingertip over her lips. “Shh.
Let me say something.”

She nodded, understanding by the urgency in
his eyes he would not be satisfied until he had told her what was
on his mind.

“I grew up pompous and spoiled and it took
me too bloody long to notice you, though you were right under my
nose most of my life.”

“I wasn’t exactly a prize,” she inserted,
remembering with a wince the gangly, awkward child and young lady
she had been with uncomely freckles and a head full of flaming red
hair. Thank goodness, she had aged into being passably pretty.

“Don’t speak,” he admonished, giving her a
long lingering kiss that made her toes curl. “You were a prize, but
I had been conditioned to believe as my father did that we stood on
a level above everyone else. I was a complete fool, and thankfully
you fell into my arms one day―remember the ladder?”

“How could I forget? If I had never climbed
that ladder and fallen, and you had not been walking by and caught
me, we may have never had a future.”

Drew looked thoughtful for a moment. “I
think I’ll have that ladder dipped in gold.”

“Drew, be serious.”

“All right, darling.” His hands slid to her
back and he pulled her so close she could make out the golden
flecks in his blue eyes. “You opened my eyes and showed me how
absurd my beliefs were. And then I failed you with cowardliness
because I thought I couldn’t live without my money. I meant to
prove to you tonight I had changed, but my grandfather stepped in
and fixed everything. Char, I don’t want you to question for a
moment I would give everything up for you. So I propose leaving
this all behind, moving to London, you acting and me getting a
job.”

It was as if there had been a last defense
against Drew she had not even known was still there around her
heart. Inside of her, a glass wall shattered leaving nothing to
stand between her and loving Drew. She threw her arms around him
and kissed him. He growled into her mouth and responded by lifting
her off her feet and wrapping his arms around her torso.

He took command of the kiss, deepening it
until her head swam. When her feet touched ground again, she took
Drew’s hand and led him to the bed. She motioned for Drew to sit.
“I don’t question you. And if I had any doubt left, you just wiped
it from my heart.”

“So you like my idea?” He leaned back on his
elbows and smiled at her like a cat who had just had cream.

She drew up her dress and straddled Drew’s
solid thighs. “I like that you wanted to show me what you would
sacrifice for me. But there’s no need. I trust in you completely.
Now, my darling, let me show you just how wicked I can be.”

And she did well into the night, until Drew
called foul and demanded his turn to win the contest.

About the
Author

Julie Johnstone has been a voracious reader
of books since she was a young girl. Her mother would tell you that
as a child Julie had a rich fantasy life made up of many different
make believe friends. As an adult, Julie is one of the lucky few
who can say she is living the dream by working with her passion of
creating worlds from her imagination.

When Julie is not writing she is chasing her
two precocious children around, cooking, reading or exercising.
Julie loves to hear from her readers. You can send her an email at
[email protected]
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Coming Soon!

LORD OF DECEPTION