Her eyes burned hot, but she refused to cry in front of him. She drew on the anger that roiled in her belly. “Why would you do this? After you wrecked everything by sending William away, you swore you’d not repeat your mistakes. You promised not to dictate my choices. You allowed me to turn down every proposal, even though I knew you wanted me to find a husband. Why are you so insistent on having your way now that I’m finally doing as you wish? And in a manner that would help everyone?”
He shifted in his seat, settling in for a long fight. “You want a reason other than your request to near double your dowry?”
“Yes.I know you, brother. You don’t make decisions based on money. You make decisions because you think they are right. So, what is your true objection to my marrying John? Tell me. Because from my point of view, it makes perfect sense. I must marry and so must he. It would be a convenient match.”
“Because it would break you, Char. Because you have loved him your entire life and his marrying you for your money would break you.”
Embarrassment engulfed her. They had argued about John before, but never had Edward so blatantly spoken of Charlotte’s infatuation. For him to use it against her now was cruel.
Besides, it was an irrelevant argument. Just because there was no love between her and John now didn’t mean they wouldn’t find it ever. She would be his wife. Over time, love could grow.
She turned to Fiona for support once more, pleading silently.
Fiona responded with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Char. But I agree with yer brother. It’s nae wise. ’Tis not a match that could work.”
She clenched her skirts in her fists, not caring about the deep creases she was creating—just needing some physical release for frustration. “How can you know that? How can either of you possibly know that?” Their presumption was infuriating.
“Because you’re not a good fit, Char,” Edward snapped. “You’re too different. You love people. You need to be around them. You haven’t been home a single night this month. John would hide away from the entire world if he could. He only returned to London because his brother died and I have no expectation of him staying. One of you would be miserable in that union, and I will not chance that it be you.”
Fiona leaned toward Charlotte, putting a restraining hand on her husband’s arm. “I thought you want to marry for love, Char,” she said gently. “Wasn’t that why you turned down all those proposals? Why would you accept a marriage of convenience now?”
She had been looking for love. She’d turned down so many exceptional matches because she’d been searching for someone who ignited that spark, that giddiness, those rioting butterflies. But they had never come. Season after season she searched, and season after season she was left wanting. The only person she’d ever been drawn to was John. He might not love her, but at least she knew he would treat her well. He and Edward wouldn’t be such close friends if John were a cad.
“I didn’t think love would be so hard to find,” she admitted. “Now that it’s clear that a grand romance isn’t in the cards for me, why shouldn’t I marry if I could achieve something worthwhile doing so? At least we know that we alllikehim. He’s been a kind and loyal friend to you both.”
Fiona reached over and put a hand on Charlotte’s knee. For a second, Charlotte thought that perhaps the argument had been won. But then Edward spoke.
“No. It is my greatest wish to see you happy. Marriage to him won’t deliver that. If John is foolish enough to propose, I will not give my permission.”
***
John was asleep once again. Once again, he was dreaming, this time of pink lips that were in constant movement—thoughtfully pursed, quirked in amusement, thinned with skepticism. They smiled at him, shyly. Teeth caught the lower lip. He couldn’t wrest his eyes from them. Couldn’t stop his body from reacting to their fullness, to how soft and kissable they were. He slid his hand through long, black tresses.
Knock, knock.Newton barked.
“Blast it, Mosely.”
The door opened slightly. Through the crack, the butler called, “Lady Charlotte Stirling to see you, my lord.”
Lady Charlotte. With midnight black hair and full, pink lips. His memory was too perfect not to know exactly who he’d been dreaming about.What the devil is she doing here?
John pulled on stockings and breeches and jammed his feet into slippers. He shrugged into the shirt he’d left hanging on the back of a chair and quickly put on a waistcoat and jacket. He tied his cravat as he walked down the hallway, Newton padding after him.
As he reached the foot of the stairs, he paused. None of the drawing rooms were in a state to receive visitors. John had opened as few rooms as he could get away with when he came home. Surely Mosely hadn’t admitted her into John’s private rooms again.
The butler caught John’s hesitation. “She’s waiting out front, my lord.”
“Thank you, Mosely.” He nodded. Taking a fortifying breath, John stepped outside. The grey clouds that had formed yesterday still obscured the sun, but given the way Charlotte beamed at him, it was a good thing. Much more brilliance, and he’d be blinded. “Why are you standing out here?”Damn. Should have started with a greeting.
She tipped her face toward him. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as though she hadn’t noticed his appalling manners. As she caught him in her gaze, his heart kicked hard, almost as if it were struggling against him. Her tongue flicked across her lips so quickly, a normal person might miss it. But that image was now burned into his brain along with every other memory of her, and instinctively he knew where his dreams would take him tomorrow.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said, oblivious to the direction of his thoughts. “It would be inappropriate for a single woman to visit a man’s bachelor lodgings.”
This whole blasted scene was inappropriate. Wilde was his best friend. Charlotte was Wilde’s sister. These heady thoughts were a betrayal.
Newton, who had trailed John to the front step, barked and jumped up, his front paws landing on Charlotte’s shoulders. She faltered only for a second, eyes blinking at the dog whose snout was suddenly only inches from her own. Then she grinned, and gave both ears a good scratch, seeming not to care about the dog hair that was covering her kid gloves.
“Down, Newton,” he barked, heat creeping up his neck. Newton never behaved this poorly.
