“A room for the stagehands to hide their apparel when needed,” Jameson remarked after looking around the empty room. A bristled broom and a bucket with a dirty rag stood in the corner. A few cobwebs suggested that the stagehands had perhaps forgotten about the room.
He turned his attention to her, raising a hand to stroke her cheek as a gentle smile spread over his lips. The marquess truly was a handsome man with his strong jaw and striking eyes. It was no wonder that Lady Henrietta had fallen for him as hard as she had.
Emotions welled in her chest at the loving gesture, threatening to spill from her eyes if she didn’t keep it together. She had tried to follow his mother in the hopes that they wouldn’t be caught in a position where she’d have to face him like this.
“What has been bothering you all evening?” Concern flooded his eyes as he drew his thumb over her chin, tracing her jawline with the tip of his finger.
“My Lord, I …” she stumbled on her words, the truth catching in her throat as he gazed into his wonderful eyes.
“Yes? You know you can tell me anything.” He took a step closer, placing one hand on her waist and drawing her closer as the other cupped her chin.
“I think I’m just overwhelmed by this evening. The singing is more beautiful than anything I’ve ever experienced.” She lost her nerve and lied, guilt eating away at her heart. She wanted the moment to last, to drink in every inch of his being before it all ended.
“Not as beautiful as you,” Jameson whispered against her lips before gently pressing her back against the wall and devouring her mouth with a ravishing kiss. His tongue danced with hers with little to no hesitation; their mouths recalled the previous kisses and acted them out with pure passion and ferocity.
Charlotte could feel the last remnants of her restraint leaving her body as she melted into his embrace, feeling the chiselled muscles of his chest through his shirt. Her lips sought his with a fierce hunger, and her fingers danced across his abs, tracing a path over his ribs.
Placing his hands on her hips, Jameson allowed his lips to wander over her body, freely exploring the curve of her neck and shoulder. The dress she had chosen swooped low enough to display the tops of her breasts, the milky skin rising and falling with anticipation as the moment progressed.
A soft gasp escaped her lips as he kissed a path over her chest, venturing lower as he hooked a finger into the swooping neckline of her dress. Her gentle moans only served to urge him on as his hands sought her breasts, roughly cupping the mounds through her dress.
Her nipples nearly spilled over her corsets as he squeezed, yet Charlotte couldn’t have cared less as long as he continued touching her in the way that he was.
Hot waves of desire coursed through her body, causing her hands to wander over his chest and arms. A deep moan resounded in his chest as his tongue devoured her breasts, adding to the pleasure she was feeling.
Kissing his way up her neck once again, Jameson sought her mouth before returning to her breasts. The detailed attention he was giving her body washed away her reservations. All sense of time and honesty ceased to exist, drowning out the incessant chatter of the world and honour.
Honour …
The word echoed in her mind with a fierce pounding that demanded her attention. The secret resurfaced once again, demanding to be honoured in part, at least, if not in full, for the time being.
“My Lord,” she whispered under her breath as tears once again prickled in her eyes. Placing her hands on his shoulder, she gently pushed him back, creating some distance between them that would allow her to think.
Coming up, Jameson cleared his throat and fixed his jacket. “Lady Charlotte, I must apologize. I didn’t mean to get carried away like that,” he apologized earnestly as he gazed at her with a look of regret on his flushed face.
“There is no need to apologize, My Lord. It wasn’t as if I stopped you.” She blinked back her tears in an attempt to hide her emotions.
“Did I do something that you didn’t like?” He took a step towards her again, taking her hand in his and gently kissing her fingers.
“No, I just don’t think we should be doing these kinds of things at present, no matter how good they may feel.” She took a deep breath and shook her head, her mind still reeling from the kiss that had left her more than a little hot under her dress.
“I understand. I was just overcome by your beauty as I gazed at you. I promise I will try and show a bit more constraint in the future,” he apologized again before kissing the top of her hand.
The future.
Charlotte felt her heart breaking all over again as she wondered how long it would be before she had to say goodbye to Jameson Sinclair forever. Her heart said there was a chance he could understand, but her mind told her that the world wasn’t that simple.
Chapter 17
Jameson clenched his jaw with frustration as he stood before the drawing room window. The authorities kept saying they were close to bringing the culprit to justice, but that did little to ease his mind as the days went on.
What if they took too long and the bastard slipped back into the shadows, ready to bring another family to disgrace with his schemes? He wished there was something he could do to find the culprit; he’d teach him a lesson he would never forget. He’d dole out a punishment that would leave a lasting impression on the coward.
The creaking of the door drew his attention back to the present as his mother and sister entered the room. The determined look on Elizabeth’s face made him sigh inwardly. He just knew that the matter of Lady Henrietta hadn’t been put to rest and more than likely never would be until he married someone else.
Charlotte.
Her name popped into his mind like a distant whisper, calling him with unrelenting force. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to get to know her. The chances seemed good that she would be the one to persuade him to change his mind about marriage.
