He couldn’t believe she would even think such a thing. First Melcombe and now his wife. What had he done to make people think he would strike someone, especially a woman? “I would never harm you.”
Charlotte grimaced and glanced over her shoulder. The pain was evident in her eyes. “Not intentionally, no.”
His wife was in pain and not simply in fear of it. Hadn’t the maid mentioned bruises the other morning. “Bloody hell,” Victor bit out as he scooped her into his arms and marched up the stairs and down the hall to her room. Once inside he kicked the door shut and set her on her feet.
“Undress,” he ordered.
Chapter 17
Charlotte’sheartbeatfranticallyas a chill ran through her body. Did he suddenly want to consummate the marriage now? It was the day and she ached from her falls.
As she stood facing him, not moving, Victor stalked forward. “How many injuries do you have?”
“A few,” Charlotte answered. What did that have to do with desire?
“I want to see them,” he ordered.
“I am certain that is not necessary. They will heal in time.”
“Charlotte, do I remove your dress or do you?”
She had never seen him like this and decided to let him have his way. “Could you turn your back?”
Victor sighed heavily and then turned on his heel, presenting his back to her.
Charlotte made quick work of her buttons, even though her fingers were trembling something fierce. When they had all been undone, she let the dress fall to the floor leaving her standing in a cotton, sleeveless shift that fell to just above her ankles. She had never felt so exposed in her life. “Is this really necessary?”
“Is the dress gone?”
“Yes,” Charlotte mumbled.
Victor turned instantly. He stared at her, his eyes darkening, then stepped forward, studied her form, then tilted his head to see her shoulder more closely. It was marred by an ugly, deep purple shifting to green bruise, that she already knew. Gently he touched it and she winced. “How did this happen?” he asked in a softer tone.
“I fell off a ladder.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
Victor let out an expletive that Charlotte didn’t quite understand.
“Where else are you injured?” He once again studied her from the top of her head and to her toes.
“My knee,” Charlotte quietly admitted. That had been injured the same time she had hurt her shoulder.
“Let me see.”
She was about to die of mortification as she slowly lifted her shift. Soon the injury came into sight, and he groaned. She didn’t think it looked that terrible.
His hand slid up and down her calf before circling the dark bruise and the side of her knee. He then slid his hand up the inside of her thigh and even though he was studying her injury, his touch did queer things to her body, in her low belly.
“When did this happen?” He knelt before her, as if he wanted a closer look. Thank goodness she was covered, or his face would be right at her private area.
“The same time I hurt my shoulder.” What was wrong with her voice? Charlotte cleared her throat.
“Anything else?” He looked up at her.
“Nothing.” She shrugged and shook her head.
