As she understood it, desire was essential for a man so that his body could perform in the necessary manner. Desire wasn’t exactly a requirement for the woman. After all, she needed to only lay there as her body was used to fulfill the deed.
What if Victor didn’t desire her enough to act?
Oh dear, it would be catastrophic if they never achieved the main goal of an heir.
Somehow, she must make him desire her, but Charlotte hadn’t a clue on how to go about such a daunting task.
Chapter 9
Afterpouringhimselfaglass of brandy, Victor settled onto the comfortable bed with thoughts of reading until he was tired enough to sleep. He needed his mind to settle, but it was impossible when recalling how Charlotte had looked in her breeches. He wished she would have worn them to tea and dinner, but she had changed into a dress and returned to him a cool and proper wife.
Victor understood her being nervous but had not anticipated the uncomfortable awkwardness, almost as if they were strangers.
They had shared four years of correspondence! Had he been foolish to assume that they would continue as they had before?
She certainly wasn’t the enthusiastic, joyful young woman he had left behind and he wasn’t so certain how he felt about this new, guarded Charlotte.
Perhaps she was simply cautious because she was holding at least one secret.
He’d mentioned Melcombe, his wife, and the nieces during dinner, so that Charlotte would know that he had been acquainted with both in London. It had been the perfect opportunity to tell him that she was working as their governess, but she simply had nodded.
He half wondered if she was even paying attention to anything he said, yet she responded when appropriate.
Victor’s attention shifted to the bathing chamber when he heard the slosh of water and whispers between two men. Charlotte did say she made use of the bathing chamber each night before she retired so the footmen were heating her water.
Maybe one day she would allow him to join her. There were certainly ways that they could both enjoy that hip bath together.
Victor let his head fall back and groaned. How soon before he could seduce her? When would she be ready?
Was there anything he could do to make her more comfortable with him?
Victor turned his attention to the door once again when he heard the water being poured into the hip bath, then someone quietly knocked on Charlotte’s door. Was that how they let her know that it was ready?
A moment later, the lock clicked onhisdoor.
Victor smiled. One day she would not lock him out. At least, he hoped that she wouldn’t, and he looked forward to the day when there was no door or clothing between them.
However, her sigh of contentment did nothing to ease the growing state of his desire for her.
A dozen times today his mind had returned to the memory of her backside as she climbed down the scaffold. Those thoughts prompted other visions as he tried to determine exactly how she looked beneath her clothing. Everything he had conjured in his mind came to further focus as he listened to the gentle splashes of water, igniting his body to a painfully aroused state. He had never experienced such achy need in his life and never dreamed that it would be his wife who brought about his current state of unfulfilled need. This was going to be a very long night.
Victor reached over and poured more brandy into his glass. The only way he was going to get any rest was if his mind and body were numbed by alcohol. The decanter was half full and Victor anticipated needing to drink it all before he could get the images of his wife’s body from his mind, or he might need to bring about what relief he could on his own.
How much time would she need before she welcomed him into her bed? Really welcomed him, and not just do her duty?
Charlottewokewiththerise of the sun, as was her habit. Today was the first day of their married life, at least with her husband now living at the manor, and she had much to accomplish before Victor rose. Thankfully that would be hours away. As those in Society rarely rose before noon, she was confident Victor shared that habit, which gave her six hours to accomplish her necessary tasks without him learning the truth of most of her activities.
After stopping by the kitchen to eat a quick, light breakfast, Charlotte changed into her painting clothes. She stopped by Victor’s door on her way to the ballroom and listened but could hear nothing and assumed he remained asleep.
For the next two hours she worked on the ceiling, carefully listening for his footsteps on the stairs. Normally she took her time with her art, but today she was jumpy, afraid he would come upon her, and as a result, smeared the small kitten in the arms of her current cherub. It wasn’t that she thought Victor would object to her painting, she just couldn’t do so in a dress. Not when she needed to climb up and down scaffolding, and she could never allow Victor to see her in breeches again. He would never consider her a demure desirable lady if he did.
After handing her brushes over to Walters, Charlotte hurried up the stairs, but slowed her stride once she reached the landing and tiptoed down the rest of the hall. She paused once again to listen at Victor’s door. The room was still silent, and Charlotte blew out a sigh.
She then continued on to her chamber and changed into a comfortable walking dress and pulled on her durable boots, careful not to make a sound. When she was finished, she slowly opened her door, thankful that the hinges were kept oiled and tiptoed back past Victor’s chamber and up to the nursery where she removed two paintings wrapped in paper and took them quietly out of the house and to the stables.
“You have the canvases?” Jinx asked.
“Yes.”
