Nodding as if he understood her plight, Lord Dunham placed his hands on his leg as he bounced his foot in a nervous gesture.
“I often avoid mentioning the loss of my father to people in general, but I can sympathize with your plight. I took over my father’s title when he lost his life to a charlatan.”
The look in his eyes made her realize that he wasn’t making up a story to put her at ease.
“I never realized that you had lost a parent as well,” Charlotte apologized, feeling for the very first time as if she were seeing his true character. There was a façade that had momentarily slipped from his face, leaving in its wake the face of a kind man who had known some terrible times in his life.
While the change in character was not enough to allow Charlotte to consider Lord Dunham as someone she could marry, it was enough for her to consider him a friend.
“We must all know a little bit of pain in this life before we can know what true happiness is.” The happy persona once again slipped over his face as he smiled at her.
“I guess it makes us better people at the end of the day, having known great strife and learning how to live with it.” Charlotte let out a breath and relaxed a little in his presence.
They both looked up with a frown as hurried footsteps came down the hall, ushering in an agitated Reginald as he snapped at the butler. “Where are the rest of the papers that I left on the study desk?” His hair was slightly dishevelled as he ran his fingers through it.
“The maids were in there dusting this morning, My Lord. I will ask them at once if they didn’t perhaps move them,” the butler replied in a cool voice that was in stark contrast to the way he addressed Charlotte.
Reginald’s head snapped up with a panicked look as Lord Dunham stood to greet him.
“I was hoping to run into you soon, Lord Grey. There are a few matters I would like to discuss in private,” Lord Dunham said in a business tone as he took a few steps towards her uncle.
Looking the man over, Reginald fidgeted slightly, his eyes shifting around the room as if he were trying to spot anyone else. “I have received your letters asking for a meeting. I’m afraid you have caught me on my way out of the country; we will have to meet at a later date.” He tried to dismiss the man and took a few steps towards the door.
“Would that be a trip to Scotland?” Lord Dunham stood his ground, unmoved by her uncle’s dismissal.
“Why do you ask?” Reginald narrowed his eyes, glaring at Lord Dunham as a muscle twitched in his jaw.
Charlotte could hear her heart pounding in her ears as she sensed the palpable atmosphere between the men. She had thought the men had been acquainted with one another, but it seemed as if there was an underlying note of distrust.
Why was her uncle so in favour of the match with the man if he had barely got to know him? She felt like a sheep being auctioned off to the highest bidder of convenience.
“I have heard that you possess a fondness for Scotland, perhaps it is the cuisine or their fine ale?” Lord Dunham tilted his head slightly to the side as if he were waiting with bated breath for the reply.
Reginald’s eyes shifted from Lord Dunham to Charlotte. “If it is a question of courting, know that you have my full support in the matter. You may go ahead with whatever plans you have for the future. Now, if you will excuse me, I must leave before I am late.”
Her uncle waved his hand in the air as if he could no longer be bothered by the matter and left the room.
Charlotte’s heart sank at the acceptance of Lord Dunham’s request that hadn’t even been vocalized. Did her feelings mean so little to her uncle that he needn’t even consult her on the matter?
“Well, I guess we needn’t fear getting approval in that case.” Lord Dunham seemed agitated as he pursed his lips with a fake smile and made his way back to his seat.
How can I tell the marquess about this?
Charlotte felt her heart slowing to an even pace as the world around her blurred. She felt as if she were an animal trapped in a cage with no escape.
***
Jameson ran the tips of his fingers over the cool wood of the desk in the study, his thoughts miles away from the room as he awaited a meeting with his father. The dream he’d had about Lady Charlotte had left him reeling as soon as he’d opened his eyes. It had felt so real, yet so mysterious all at the same time.
“Jameson …” She had whispered his name in his ear, dropping the formality of his title as he ran his hands up her shapely legs, moving her dress aside as he caressed her skin.
“I have wanted to do this for such a long time.” He ran his fingers over her thighs, pausing momentarily as he leaned in closer, kissing her neck as he savoured the sweet scent of her rose perfume.
The slight gasp that escaped her lips caused a rush of passion that made him cup her breasts, pressing her back against a wall. He took his time to explore her body, flicking his tongue over her bosoms as the milky flesh peaked over her crimson dress. The gentle parting of her thighs gave him access to the parts he was most eager to explore.
The dream had got more vivid at that point as she began to gasp, panting his name in regular intervals before untying her dress and allowing her clothes to slip to the floor at their feet.
He could still recall the curve of her hips and the perfect fullness of her breast with the rosy buds that drove him wild. Her flesh had tasted as good as he had always imagined it would, sweet and soft with a hint of perfume.
