“I—no. I was just—”
“Unless you’ve reserved your rose for another,” he said. “In that case, I will offer you my broken heart on a platter and leave. Is that what you’d like?”
“Your broken heart?” Charlotte said with a laugh. “That’s a bit much. You hardly know me, after all.”
It’s hyperbole—exaggeration. I only mean to say that I’d be sorely disappointed.”
“I know what hyperbole is, and I’m glad to hear you verify it. Because when you’ve heard as many grandiose declarations from men as I have, you never know when one is being serious or not.”
“Oh? You must either be very beautiful, very wealthy, or, I’d wager—both. Now, I am all the more curious to know your name and your reason for frequenting a matchmaker’s gaming den.”
“I could ask the same of you. I am certain that with your face, you have amassed your own collection of grandiose declarations.” Charlotte bit her lip, surprised and a little elated by her boldness.
“Well now, this puts me at a rather unfair disadvantage.”
“What does?”
“The fact that you can assess me by my face, but I cannot do the same.”
“It isn’t a disadvantage but an advantage. It is better to form an impression based on a person’s words and actions without the distraction of the physical.” She let her eyes wander momentarily down the length of his solid physique. His navy-blue waistcoat, patterned with gold paisley, had been cut perfectly to fit his taut waist. The accompanying navy-blue suit was likewise perfectly tailored and emphasized his long, lean build.
“You were saying?” His words cut into Charlotte’s thoughts, and she quickly redirected her gaze, looking up at him.
“I was saying that you are at an advantage because you have the opportunity of getting to know me without the distraction of the physical.”
“That’s nonsense,” he crooned, “and you know it.” He stepped closer to her, sending Charlotte’s pulse racing.
“I think it only fair that you lift that veil and show me your face.” His voice was low and intimate, and Charlotte’s breathing shallowed at the thought of lifting the veil between them. Itboth excited and terrified her. The garden, illuminated only by moonlight, provided a sense of privacy, still, there was a small danger they might be seen.
“Very well,” she said, “I shall lift the veil after you tell me three things you like about my person. I know you haven’t known me very long, but you must have made certain assessments that don’t involve the physical during that time.”
“That’s easy,” he said. “First, you are intelligent and humble enough not to be flattered by men who make grandiose declarations and pursue you for shallow reasons. I have a feeling that you have a strong sense of loyalty and value family—why else would you prize a love match over a mercenary arranged marriage, as you called it? Lastly, you are kind. I noticed you thanked the waiter who offered us champagne. Many don’t take the trouble to acknowledge servants.”
Charlotte felt her cheeks warm. Here stood Hugh Warsham calling her loyal and trustworthy when she was lying to him and possibly betraying her papa. Oh, she no longer knew what to think. Mama had insisted they would be helping Papa if all went according to plan, but what was the plan? For her to woo a man by deceit? And she’d already told her mama that she would not marry a man she did not love.
No, the only thing to do was to reveal her identity and tell Hugh the truth. If he loved his papa as much as she loved hers, then they could find a solution to the terrible feud together.
“Well?” Hugh said. “I hope you intend to stick to your part of the agreement.”
“Of course,” she said, “but I’m afraid you won’t see much. There is virtually no moon tonight, and as you can see, no candles have been placed in the garden to light it.”
“Purposefully so, I think,” Hugh said. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon prides herself on providing privacy for her customers while having spies everywhere.”
“Does she?” Charlotte glanced around the garden. A rustle sounded from the bushes, causing her to jump.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s probably only a squirrel.” He paused. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to her veil.
Charlotte nodded, holding her breath as he reached and lifted the veil from her face.
She didn’t know what Hugh could see of her features as he gazed upon her face, but she knew she didn’t want him to turn away because it gave her equal opportunity to gaze unabashedly back at him.
He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face before he spoke. “When I was a boy in India,” Hugh said, “there was a blind man—a beggar—I saw many times on the street. I took pity on him and sometimes slipped him some food—nothing fancy—an apple, or a piece of bread. I was fascinated by how he used his hands as eyes—seeing shape and texture through touch.” Hugh brushed his fingers across Charlotte’s cheek, sending a wave of pleasurable tingles down her neck and spine. Her body shivered with delight, the flutter of new sensations leaving her flustered and breathless.
“Your skin is soft, and your cheekbones high but not too sharp.” He ran his hand across her jawline and cupped her chin. “Your face forms the shape of a heart.” Charlotte thought her knees would give way when he ran a finger down the length of her nose. “Petite,” he said, “and it turns up a little on the end.” His thumb moved across her lips, and he murmured, “Soft and plump, made for kissing, I think.”
Charlotte’s insides trembled. How could something this pleasurable be wrong? How could a man as thoughtful, intelligent, and charming as Hugh be anyone’s enemy? A dizzying swirl engulfed Charlotte as Hugh leaned toward her, and she arched her neck upward, silently willing him to kiss her.
He pressed his full lips against hers, parting hers with his tongue and slipping it into her mouth. A small gasp of pleasure escaped her throat. It was the first time she’d let a man—liked a man enough—to allow him to kiss her so intimately. Others had tried, but they only made her recoil.
