“No, that is not our carriage.”
His eyes shut briefly in overwhelming relief. Charlotte could almost feel the force of his fear leaving him little by little. Yet even then, he could not stop touching her, his gloved hands lingering against her arms as though reassuring himself she truly existed before him.
Joan slowly stood nearby and exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Penelope.
“Well,” Penelope whispered loudly enough for Charlotte to hear, “he looks as though he has seen death itself.”
Joan nodded solemnly. “Our brother-in-law is entirely ruined by love.”
“Mama owes me five pounds,” Irene added quietly. “I said the duke was in love months ago.”
“Girls,” Harriet hissed, though she herself looked suspiciously emotional.
Charlotte would have been mortified under normal circumstances, but she scarcely heard them. All her attention remained fixed upon Victor. His eyes looked darker than she had ever seen them. Vulnerable. Frightened. Desperate.
Victor leaned closer. “Come home with me.”
The plea in his voice nearly undid her entirely. Charlotte stared at him in wonder. This proud, difficult man who had spent years avoiding closeness now looked at her as though she alone anchored him to the earth. Her throat tightened painfully with emotion.
“Did you come for me?” she asked softly.
His answer came without hesitation. “Yes.”
Something warm and aching broke open inside her chest.
“I will always come for you,” Victor whispered.
Charlotte’s eyes burned suddenly. Before she could speak, he pulled her gently toward him and kissed her. The noise of the crowded street seemed to disappear at once. She melted into him without thought, her fingers clutching the front of his coat whilst his hand cradled her cheek with desperate tenderness.
Someone nearby gasped dramatically.
“Oh heavens,” Joan declared. “They are kissing in the middle of the street.”
Penelope sighed dreamily. “This is the most romantic thing I have ever witnessed.”
Harriet dabbed discreetly at her eyes. “I knew that stubborn man adored her.”
Victor barely seemed aware of any of them. When the kiss finally ended, he rested his forehead briefly against Charlotte’s as though steadying himself. His breathing remained uneven. Charlotte touched his cheek softly and realized with sudden heartbreak that he truly had believed he might lose her today..
Charlotte smiled shakily through the tears threatening her eyes. “Take me home, Your Grace.”
Victor kissed her forehead once more before helping her carefully to her feet.
“With pleasure, Duchess,” he murmured.
CHAPTER 30
“Oh my dearest Charlotte,” Victor said.
Charlotte felt the tremble in Victor’s hands as he guided her into his bedchamber. The moment the door shut behind them, he cupped her face as though he feared she might vanish if he let go for even a second.
His mouth crashed against hers with desperate hunger, and Charlotte melted into him at once. His kiss was not polished and teasing as it often was, but frantic, relieved, and full of emotion so raw it made her chest ache.
She clutched the front of his coat tightly beneath her fingers. Her entire body hummed with longing for him, with relief that he was here and touching her and looking at her as though she mattered more than breath itself. His lips moved against hers again and again, deepening the kiss until her knees weakened beneath her skirts. Charlotte let out the smallest whimper, and Victor groaned softly as though the sound undid him entirely.
“Charlotte,” he murmured against her mouth. “God, Charlotte.”
She kissed him back eagerly. “You frighten me.”
