He’d stood so close to her, close enough only a mere breath separated them, so close she could have pressed her face into his chest and inhaled his faint, clean scent of leather and starch. His voice, when he’d said the wordlover…
Charlotte shook her head to chase away the sound of that word in Julian’s hoarse, rough whisper. No. She wouldn’t tell her friends he’d hidden her from Devon, his body against hers, his hand over her mouth. It would only encourage them, and besides, Julian had said other words, too—words likeBellwoodandHampshire—and whole sentences, as well.
It makes no difference where you go, as long as you leave London.
She didn’t matter to him. She had once, a thousand years ago, and a woman didn’t forget how it felt when a man cherished her. It didn’t feel anything like being a fox at the mercy of a pack of slavering, snarling hounds. It didn’t feel anything like being hunted.
It didn’t feel anything like this.
He looked like the Julian she remembered, the Julian she’d fallen so madly in love with. When he whispered the wordloverin her ear, he sounded like Julian. He even smelled like Julian, with that clean scent so wholly his own it made her want to climb inside his skin, to drown in him—
But he wasn’t that man. Not anymore. He was Captain West, and no matter what her friends thought, this harder, colder Julian didn’t care about her. He wasn’t trying to help her, and if she became too lost in her memories of him to remember that, he could convince her to do anything he wished her to do. He could coax her to leave London, to go back to Bellwood or Hadley House, and God help her then.
“But if he’s not motivated by passion, then what?” asked Lissie. “Why should he come to your box at all and follow us to a gaming hell? No one wants a game of piquet that badly, for goodness’ sake.”
Charlotte exhaled a slow, patient breath and tried to gather her wits. “Don’t you see, Lissie? Cam and Ellie are convinced I remain in London for Lord Devon. They think Captain West can intimidate Devon into abandoning his pursuit. Once Devon drops me, they think I’ll leave wicked old London behind and toddle obediently off to the country.”
Annabel snorted. “They don’t know Devon very well, do they? If that’s their plan, then you have nothing to fear from Captain West, Charlotte. Devon is like a hound on a scent. An extremely handsome and divinely wicked hound, that is. He won’t abandon a thing until he’s good and ready.”
It was true, and it wasn’t even just that. Devon was her friend—a true friend, and he became more tempting by the second. He might be wicked, but he was also clever and scrupulous in his loyalties. If she decided to take advantage of his offer, he’d tear apart anyone who threatened her.
“Do you mean to say the Captain and Devon will become rivals for Charlotte’s affections?” Aurelie’s eyes widened. “Oh, how exciting! Do you suppose they’ll fight a duel over her?”
Charlotte resisted the urge to tear her hair out in frustration. “No! Of course not. Captain West doesn’t care a fig for me, Aurelie, and Devon—well, Devon is far too quick to fall for the Captain’s ruse. He’ll do what he will, regardless of Captain West’s nonsense.”
“But is it truly nonsense, Charlotte?” Annabel gave her a considering look. “Perhaps Captain West doesn’t know his own mind as well as he thinks he does.”
Dear God. Now what?“What does that mean?”
“I saw his face last night after you fled the gaming hell. He looked quite wild. He maythinkhe acts only on your family’s behalf, while in truth his reasons are far more…tender.”
Both Lissie and Aurelie nodded.
“I’d think you’d want to know it if he does truly care for you,” Annabel said. “Why not let it play out and see what happens? Perhaps history will repeat itself, after all.”
Charlotte let her head fall into her hands. No matter what she said her friends simply refused to see it. Like the rest of London, they couldn’t get past Julian’s handsome face and the tales of his bravery and heroism.
Annabel was still talking. “Perhaps I should invite Captain West to my rout tonight? Devon will be there, and we can see—”
“No.” Charlotte raised her head. “Don’t you see? It will only encourage him to bedevil me further. I tell you, if we simply disregard him, he’ll give up the chase soon enough—”
A quiet knock on the drawing room door interrupted her. At her summons, Nelson stepped into the room and bowed. “I beg your pardon for the interruption, my lady, but Miss Amelia and Captain West are here.”
Annabel raised her eyebrows at Charlotte. “Perhaps he will give up the chase, but it won’t be today.”
“Not today and not ever, Annabel—not if you insist upon extending invitations to him. I shall have no peace if you do.” Even now in her own home she had no peace, for as Julian no doubt anticipated, she’d never turn Amelia away. “Show them in, Nelson.”
Nelson bowed out of the room, and a few minutes later Amelia darted in. “Charlotte! Oh, how lucky we found you at home. I do so want to have a ride in Hyde Park with you, for we leave for Bellwood very soon, you know, and we won’t have a chance to ride together for months and months, and uncle Julian said he’d escort us, and I have my new riding habit, you see, and—oh!” Amelia spied the widows and sank into a hasty curtsey. “Good afternoon.”
Julian strolled in after Amelia, and drat him, he looked nothing like a false, deceitful, manipulative, ruthless scoundrel. His tall, lean frame was made for riding attire. He was devastating in his tight breeches and bottle green riding coat. The widows were apparently struck speechless by this paragon of masculinity, for they simply stared at him without uttering a word.
The corner of Julian’s mouth twitched, and he swept them an elaborate bow. “Good afternoon, ladies. I do hope we’re not interrupting?”
Annabel recovered first. “Good afternoon, Miss West. Captain West.”
Lissie and Aurelie managed proper curtsies, but they gazed at Julian with such avid glee they looked like two naughty girls caught giggling during the church service. “Did you enjoy yourself last night, Captain?” Lissie shot Charlotte a sly glance. “You seemed to be quite taken with, ah,piquet.”
“Amelia,” Charlotte interrupted. “You left your gloves here the other day. I believe Sarah has them. Won’t you go find her?”
