Heat bloomed low in her belly.
Her brush faltered. Just once. She resumed her brushing with haste.
“Was the innkeeper not scandalized at letting adjoining rooms to an unmarried couple?” she asked.
“He was, which is why I named myself Tewkesbury,” he smiled.
Charlotte burst into a fit of laughter. “You are wicked! I am a respectable woman.”
“We both know that you can be as wild as I when... provoked,” he said quietly.
She bit her lip, saying nothing.
“Tomorrow evening, we will be arriving at Hamilton House,” he broached the comfortable silence. “Are you intending to be yourself?”
She pondered his question for a moment. It would be simpler to end the charade now, but returning to her cousin’s home as herself would lead to a host of new problems, and she did not care to seek permission from her Uncle Henry and Aunt Judith before continuing their excursion.
Besides, they would certainly be far more amenable to Seth andAmeliaspending their time together, than Charlotte herself.
“No, I think I will continue to be Amelia until we have caught up with her,” she decided.
She caught a disappointed expression on his face and looked over her shoulder.
“What is it? You do not like the idea of continuing with our pretense?”
“No. And frankly...” His voice dropped to a murmur as he rose from the bed and crossed the space between them. He touched her face, one hand cradling her cheek, his thumb brushing along her jaw. “I am simply counting the days until I can tell the world that my betrothed is Charlotte Nightingale,” he continued, “and not her sister.”
Charlotte blinked, stunned. “We are... betrothed? Your engagement with my sister was arranged. No such arrangement has been made for us. And you have not asked me.”
He gave a short breath of laughter—half amusement, half disbelief—and then, without hesitation, dropped to one knee before her. She turned sharply on the stool, heart hammering.
“Charlotte Nightingale,” he began, looking up at her. “I cannot offer you a title that is free of besmirchment, nor fortune that I yet stand to lose. But I can give you everything else—my body, my loyalty, my godforsaken heart, such as it is.”
He paused.
“Will you be my wife?”
Her breath caught. She hadn’t meant to blush, but it warmed her skin all the same.
Then, with a sly curve to his mouth, he added, “Though I suspect you’ve already claimed all three.”
She bent to kiss him. It was slow, delicate, like tasting a promise she wanted to last a lifetime. Every brush of her lips said yes, though she hadn’t spoken it yet. She didn’t need to.
I do not ever want to become immune to this feeling. Or accustomed to it.
Seth’s hands slid down her sides, slow and sure, tracing the curve of her hips with a touch that made her tremble. He moved lower—over the swell of her derrière, down the length of her thighs, his palms gliding over her knees, her calves, all the way to her bare feet. Every inch he touched left her aching for more.
She looked into his emerald eyes, and everything else vanished.
No more than a month ago, he had stormed into her rooms full of arrogance and provocation, hell-bent on pushing her away. Now... he was here, stripped bare in every sense, gazing at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
And she knew—felt—that he would give up everything for her.
He already has.
At this very moment, his title might be slipping from his grasp, all because of her.
“You should write to Mr. Monkton,” she whispered. “Tell him you are securing Amelia’s consent to dissolve the betrothal. Save your birthright.”
