Such moans fell from Charity’s lips that she lost track of time. All she thought of was this excitement, the feeling of having Seth so near, of what he was doing to her and what they shared.
He started saying things, moaning, the great guttural sounds almost animalistic between them, to such an extent that Charity threw her head back, determined to hear every sound he made.
“So close, Charity. So near now.”
Near to what?
As fast as she wondered what he meant, she felt it. It was the same building sensation she had felt before, the coiling tension. It grew fast, with the pleasure budding in her core. Then abruptly, it erupted.
“Seth!” she moaned his name so loudly that he thrust into her faster. She rode out the waves of her pleasure against him, as he grew stilted and pulled himself from her. The loss of the feeling made her whimper, wanting him still there, but then their positions moved. She fell down on her stomach as he leaned over her, spilling himself not inside of her but on the sheets.
Charity reached behind her, trailing her hand through Seth’s hair as he buried his face into the curve of her neck, moaning her name too. She longed to ask him why he hadn’t finished inside of her, but he must have read her mind, for between his panting breaths, he whispered an answer to her.
“I’ll wait until we are wed,” he explained, murmuring deep within her hair. “I won’t risk a child before.”
Charity smiled at his words. He was protecting her. As much as they had both wished to jump ahead, to consummate even though they were not yet wed, he was making sure she was safe from rumors and scandal.
God, I love you, Seth.
Yet she couldn’t say the words. For some reason, they died in her throat, but it didn’t matter as he rolled the two of them over and pulled her into his side.
I shall tell him soon.
CHAPTER 18
“What is it, Bates?” Seth hurried out of the chamber, closing the door as softly as he could behind him. He wasn’t quite dressed, pulling on his shirt and shrugging on a waistcoat over the top of it. He’d managed to pull on his trousers and hessian boots beforehand, though he could tell the slither of a smile was on Bates’ face as he looked at Seth’s hair and garb.
The staff must have little doubts about what Charity and I get up to.
Despite this knowledge, Seth couldn’t stop himself. What he and Charity had just shared was the best feeling of his life. He wouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed by it.
“I apologize for disturbing you, Your Grace,” Bates said, and he did indeed appear genuine with these words. “Lord Baxter has arrived again. He is most insistent on seeing you. I had a task urging him to remain in your study.”
“Thank the Devil. What I would do without you, old man. I shall go to him now.” Seth patted Bates on the shoulder appreciatively and hurried down the hallway, trying to flatten his hair as he went, and finish buttoning his waistcoat.
The thought of Luke being here now irked him, though he knew it shouldn’t have done, deep down. He and Luke had practically lived in and out of one another’s pockets these last ten years as they sought revenge. For some reason, though, none of it seemed to matter any longer. Not the revenge. Not his ever-lasting fury.
None of it.
All he wanted was to go back to Charity in his chamber and lie down beside her. For eternity if he could.
“Luke?” Seth muttered as he opened the door of the study. For a change, Luke had not made it his business to sift through Seth’s post. Rather, he was reclined in a vast armchair by the hearth, his face set like stone, cast in eerie shadows at the behest of the dying embers of light washing up through the window. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable with something other than my business. Are you well, old boy?” he chuckled as he shut the door behind him.
“Do I not appear well?” Luke asked, a touch of irritation creeping into his tone. Yet, before Seth could offer a reply, he hastily continued, “Perhaps it is because upon my visit today, I noticed all your servants flushing and giggling when I broached the topic of your status. And Lady Charity is conspicuously absent as well.”
Seth said nothing. He was not answerable to Luke, and he certainly had no intention of making excuses for what was passing between him and Charity. It was their business, and no one else’s. His body still thrummed with the release they had just shared, the pleasure of it. When he had bent over her, collapsing onto the bed, he had nearly told her he loved her, and had only just managed to hold it back, fearing it was not the right time to speak of it.
“Seth?” Luke’s voice was sharp enough to slice through his reveries.
Calmly, Seth strode over to his desk and reached for the decanter of brandy. Pouring himself a generous measure, he took the crystal glass, then settled into the armchair across from Luke, fixing him with a steely glare.
“What?” Luke started. “I trust you haven't forgotten what is important here. Lady Charity Harris is under your roof so that you might leverage her presence to your advantage, to reach her father, the Earl.”
No.
Once more, something in Seth’s gut kicked against the idea. He had absolutely no intention of using Charity to get to her father. Inanymanner. Whether she despised the man or not.
She was not her father. She was her own person who had clearly not been loved enough by Lord Holmwood—as a father ought to,or else, he would not have led her to feel so trapped and isolated within her own home. Like some kind of hostage.
