Page 89 of Cocky Earl


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Love would not change that.

If, he did, in fact, love her. She suspected his feelings were similar to hers, but she could not be certain. Would she ever have the chance to know?

He’d gone down on one knee this afternoon. He’d taken her hand and asked her to marry him. If he walked away from her, he’d be breaking his own promise.

Her poor, sweet, maddening Jules couldn’t win either way.

He would be faced with an impossible decision. He could either honor his father’s commitment, a commitment which would have been made years ago, or his own—the one to her father and then his promise to her.

Either way, his honor would be compromised.

“Your bath is ready.” Charley hadn’t realized how long she’d been sitting but the remaining tea in her cup had grown cold. A bath. Yes. That might warm her.

What if Lord Brightly had returned with a signed contract? She slid into the hot water, surprised at the little twinges of pain between her thighs and on her backside. Bending her knees, she lowered herself into the water until it came all the way up to her neck. What if she was with child?

It was possible.

Lying with him had been foolish of her and yet, she didn’t regret it. How did a person turn their back on something when it felt like the entirety of their life had led to that moment?

It had felt more right than anything she’d ever known. All of it—the kissing, the touching, the talking, the teasing.

And when he’d placed himself inside of her, she’d felt whole.

He’d even asked what she thought about his ideas for turning the mill into a distillery. They were a team.

They were an ‘us’—a ‘we.’

Surely, a decision made years ago without his consent couldn’t take all of that away?

Daisy poured warm water over Charley’s head and began massaging soap into her hair. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“That is an excellent question,” Charley said. “But you can be certain I am going to do something.”

Chapter 26

DAMN STRAIGHT

Charley didn’t sleep much that night. If she wasn’t reliving the afternoon she’d spent in Jules’ arms, she was worrying over a situation that seemed more impossible with each second that passed.

A situation that might not even exist, although she doubted Mrs. Crabtree would make something like that up, and the woman was intelligent enough that she would understand what she overheard.

An advantage to being a circumspect companion, no doubt, dressed in browns and wearing a mob cap, relegated to the edge of the room. Women of such an occupation likely knew more than most of the people that they worked for.

Charley had barely drifted off when Daisy drew the curtains back, sending sunshine across where Charley’s head lay on the pillow.

Today she must face the other guests, knowing that they had all been talking unkindly about her the day before. Some of what they said was true, indeed, so she couldn’t fault them for their gossip. Charley was an American. She had captured Jules’ affections. And Charley might as well take responsibility for the decisions she’d made the day before. Yes, she had lain with him. She’d given him her innocence and, in doing so, experienced utter bliss.

When someone knocked at the door, she assumed it would be her morning tea. Charley shouldn’t have been surprised, however, when Mrs. Crabtree entered behind the maid—looking as dour and stern as she had on the first day she’d trailed around behind Charley.

“Good morning.”

Although wary, Charley would do her best to get through this day with her dignity intact—what little dignity she’d ever laid claim to. It hadn’t been much of a priority until she’d arrived in England. All she’d cared about was her whiskey. Whiskey didn’t mind if she spent an afternoon alone with a handsome gentleman, nor did it mind if she was raised on English soil or in America.

“Good morning, Miss Jackson.” Mrs. Crabtree stood with her hands behind her back and her back perfectly straight. “Her ladyship has asked that I have a word with you this morning.”

Nothing good was going to come from such a statement.

“Can it not wait until after I’ve dressed?” She had barely woken up and her eyes were yet sticky from lack of sleep. She rolled her shoulders however, seeing determination in the woman’s satisfied mien.