Agreeable and pleasant, she reminded herself.
Victor looked down at her with an odd expression on his face. “Why would I want you to do such a thing? This is your home.”
Charlotte released her breath, unaware that she had been holding it. “I will be happy to show you the rest of the house, once I am properly attired.”
Victor chuckled. “I think your current attire is quite fetching.”
Charlotte’s face heated again, certain that he had uttered the words to save her embarrassment. If anything, it only made the situation worse.
Chapter 7
VictorfollowedCharlotteoutof the room, enjoying the sway of her bottom in those breeches, and was reminded how long it had been since he had bedded a woman—over four years.
After leaving Charlotte in Willanton, Victor had returned to London, and his mistress. However, the moment he kissed her, he had been awash with guilt.
He was married. It hadn’t mattered that his wife had only just turned sixteen and that he hadn’t even kissed her, let alone anything else, he was still married. Charlotte had been forced to sacrifice nearly everything, and he would be a cad if he carried on as if he were still a bachelor. Besides, all of Society knew that Victor had married an heiress out of financial need and if he took up with his mistress so quickly after having said the vows, there would be the worst kind of speculation regarding his wife and Victor would not have that.
That didn’t mean he hadn’t been tempted several times, but he had not succumbed to that weakness and had relied on himself when most needful. Now, after seeing his wife…Fetching! Victor nearly snorted. That was far too mild of a word for how Charlotte looked in her painting outfit. A man would have to be dead not to respond to that curvaceous and soft body, and he was far from dead.
Charlotte stopped and turned to him once she reached the foot of the stairs. “Please, wait in the parlor, and I will return shortly.”
Victor wanted to watch her climb the stairs, but she kept looking at him. Charlotte likely needed a moment of time. His arrival had been a surprise since he had intentionally not mentioned when he would arrive. Perhaps it was unfair, but she had kept secrets from him, and he wanted to find out what else she had been up to.
Victor offered a nod and returned to the parlor as he listened to her footsteps race up the stairs.
Bloody hell! Percy had been right. Had Victor known about the changes in these past four years, he would not have been in London, but here, in his home, and with his wife.
Charlotterangforhermaid the moment she entered her chamber, then removed the braid and brushed out her hair. There wasn’t time to arrange it, but something must be done.
“Yes, Lady Blackmar?” Callie said as she entered.
Even though it had been nearly a year, Charlotte still wasn’t used to being called Lady Blackmar. In those first weeks when the name was mentioned, her stomach tightened, and she quickly looked for her mother-in-law.
“My husband has returned.”
Callie brightened. “I have been told.”
“Can you make me presentable?”
“Of course, Lady Blackmar.”
With a deep breath, Charlotte settled at the dressing table. Rarely did she ask Callie to assist since Charlotte had been dressing herself for ages, and it was easy to braid her own hair. But, now that Victor was here, she must remember to employ her maid at every opportunity, as was expected of a viscountess.
Callie quickly pinned her hair into a simple chignon and allowed a few wisps of curls to frame Charlotte’s face. Simple, not elegant, but it would have to do for now. Next, she dressed in the best batiste gown that she owned. Monique, the dressmaker, had promised that the blue was complementary to her skin, eyes and hair. Charlotte hoped that she was correct.
Once ready to return downstairs, Charlotte studied herself in the mirror. She was no longer the girl Victor had left behind, but what did he think of the woman he had returned to? She had physically matured, but her face was the same, her hair was the same, and those blasted freckles were determined never to go away. Hopefully there was enough change that he wasn’t disappointed in what he found.
Charlotte took a deep breath and returned to the parlor where her husband waited. Victor was looking out a window and she took a moment to study him, impressed by his height and wide shoulders, then swallowed against her tightening throat, took a deep breath, and drew on all that she had read on how a lady behaves and the topics upon which to converse.
“I do hope that your trip from London was pleasant.”
He turned and smiled. “It was pleasant enough.”
“Please, sit down,” she gestured to the settee. “Tea should be served shortly.”
“Thank you, Charlotte.” Victor crossed and settled onto the settee. She took the chair across from him.
“Is your mother well?” she asked.
