“The hip?”
“Will be fine.” She couldn’t possibly expose any more of her limbs. To lift the gown high enough so he could see her injury would be quite indecent.
“I want to see the hip, Charlotte.”
She blushed from head to foot. This was too much.
He picked up a coverlet from the bed. “Cover yourself as best you can so I can inspect the injury.” He then turned his back once again.
She scampered to do as he bid, a part of her dying inside at leaving herself so exposed to him. It was impossible to accomplish this task standing so she reclined on the bed. Under the covers she pulled her shift up until it was past her hip. Then she moved the coverlet so only the most recent injury was exposed, and nothing else.
“You may look now,” she finally said.
Victor walked silently to the bed and concentrated on the hip before he gently touched the injury.
Charlotte winced. It was not only difficult to walk, but tender to the touch. No doubt it would develop a ghastly bruise as her shoulder had done.
“You will take a long hot bath to soak that hip. Then you will lie down and rest and eat when your breakfast tray is delivered.” Victor paused and looked at her, his mouth grim. “Then we will talk.”
Charlotte never got a chance to say another word because Victor stalked from her chamber and began calling for her maid.
None of this was necessary. She was a bit sore, but not so much that she needed to rest.
Victor was being overprotective, and he was treating her like a child, which she was not. She was a fully grown woman who knew when she should rest and when it was not necessary, yet she had remained in bed because he had ordered her to do so.
No, he had ordered her to take a bath, and perhaps he was not wrong. The hot water would do well in soothing her aching muscles. After she was finished, and dressed properly again, she would advise her husband that she needn’t lay around in bed on account of a few bruises.
Victorfirstsentamaid to Charlotte and instructed that she required a bath. He then informed the housekeeper that Charlotte would need a breakfast tray taken to her chamber before he entered the breakfast room. There he filled a plate for himself and took a seat.
He ate without tasting and read the papers without absorbing a word. His mind was fixated on Charlotte.
He had not only taken notice of her injuries, but what had been hidden beneath her gowns.
Charlotte had the body of a goddess. Only her obvious painful injuries kept his desire in check.
Charlotte had been standing before the window when he ordered her out of her dress. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight when he turned back around. Beneath the thin cotton were full breasts, her dark nipples straining against the material. Her waist tapered softly before her hips flared. She also had a soft, womanly abdomen instead of a flat stomach that allowed hipbones to protrude. Charlotte’s form was made for a man’s comfort. Her lush hips gave way to shapely thighs and legs. Beneath the linen he could see a hint of her feminine mound, which Victor suspected matched her raven crown. He had wanted to taste her, everywhere.
If Charlotte had any clue to his thoughts, she would be shocked to her very core.
Knowing that Charlotte was likely in her bath, fully naked, further tortured him and the arousal he had suffered those nights previously was nothing compared to this. Before, he only had his imagination. Today, he knew the truth and it was killing him.
Pushing away from the table, Victor began to wander the lower floors of the house because it would be impossible to concentrate on estate work. In each room he stopped, Victor took in the colors and designs, fully appreciating the artistry of his wife in a way he hadn’t before. Eventually he made his way to the ballroom. The scaffolding had been removed, which meant his wife had finally finished. Slowly he walked to the area she had been working on and looked up. A cherub, with blond curls and green eyes held a kitten with soft grey fur. Victor had to chuckle. Charlotte was the only person he knew who would put a cat in heaven.
Wandering back to the library, Victor sat behind the desk and began a list of items he wished to discuss with Charlotte: Turner Textiles, governess, canvases, accounts, and painting. Was she hiding anything else?
Victor was startled to look up and find Charlotte in the doorway. “What are you doing up?”
“You wanted to speak with me.”
“Yes, but I was going to come to you after you had rested.” And after he was confident that his lust was under control.
“That is hardly necessary. As you can see, I am well.” Charlotte smiled as she walked further into the room and stopped before the desk. She was barely limping so the hot bath must have helped.
Victor leaned back in his chair and studied her. Charlotte’s hair had been arranged on top of her head, though feathery ringlets fell around her face, and she was wearing a pale green day dress. It complemented her coloring. Victor also noticed that her posture was straight, and her hands were clasped tightly before her. She looked like a disobedient child awaiting her punishment, or an employee awaiting instructions.
Victor groaned and leaned forward. They had so much to learn about each other. “Please sit down.”
Charlotte sank into one of the dark leather chairs.
