Who Will Take This Man?

Fourteen

Meredith jumped to her feet, trying to hide her mounting alarm. Abandoning the idea of fixing her hair, she scanned the room for her reticule, every fiber of her being intent on escaping. Before he gave voice to an impossible proposal.

Philip rose and grasped her shoulders. “Meredith, I-”

She rested her fingers against his lips, cutting off his words. Trying to keep her voice calm, she said, “Don’t say anything else.”

Hurt and confusion flashed in his eyes. “Why not?”

Because I know a simple “no” will not satisfy you, that you ‘d want more of an explanation. And I cannot think of a lie in my current state of confusion that would satisfy you. And I cannot tell you the truth. And because it’s now obvious where talking to you leads-to me lying on my back. “Because I… I am not ready to hear anything more. I need time to think, and I cannot do that in your presence. You’re far too… distracting.”

A measure of the tension left his face. “You affect me in exactly that same way. Which is why-”

“No!” Full-fledged panic rose in her, doubled by the unmistakable hurt and confusion in his gaze. “Please, Philip. Please do not say anything else. Not now.”

His unwavering gaze completely unnerved her. “You know what I want to ask you, Meredith.”

She didn’t dare pretend she didn’t, lest he indeed ask her. “Yes. But not here. Not now. I… I need to think.”

He studied her for several seconds. “Very well. But we will discuss this, Meredith.”

She nodded. “But not now.” Not until I’ve had a chance to gather my thoughts and shore up my defenses against you.

“I’ll return for you here once I’ve seen to the carriage.” He quit the room, closing the door quietly behind him. The instant she was alone, Meredith buried her face in her hands.

Dear God, what had she done?

Albert pushed aside the heavy blue velvet drapes and stared out the drawing room window. Without even a glimmer of moonlight, nothing save blackness and his own somber reflection greeted his stare. He listened to the mantel clock chime, announcing it was midnight. Surely Miss Merrie would return home soon from the fancy dinner party. Would Lord Greybourne choose one of the fine ladies he’d invited to be his wife? Or would he follow his heart?

An image of Charlotte rose in his mind’s eye. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rested his forehead on the cool glass and blew out a long breath. She’d gone upstairs hours ago to put Hope to bed and had not returned. Obviously she’d retired as well.

Instantly the image in his mind shifted, and he imagined Charlotte, lying in bed, her blond hair fanned out across the pillow, firelight flickering across her golden skin. His body tightened, and he gritted his teeth, trying to banish the sensual image, but to no avail. Reaching out her arms, she said, “Albert…” A groan of misery-filled longing he could not suppress escaped him.

“Albert… are you all right?”

His eyes popped open, and he jerked upright. Reflected in the window, he saw her standing in the doorway.

Heat rushed into his face. Biting back a curse, he tried to will away his obvious arousal, but it was hopeless. And damn it, he’d left his jacket and waistcoat in his bedchamber. There was nothing to shield his condition from her.

“I’m fine.” The words came out in a strained, hoarse voice.

He watched her reflection, watched her hesitate, praying for all he was worth that she’d turn and leave him. Instead she frowned, then walked slowly toward him.

“You don’t sound fine. I heard you groan… did you hurt yourself?”

“No.” The word felt ripped from his throat. His heart pounded harder with every step she took. She didn’t stop until she stood next to him. Her delicate, flowery scent wafted over him, and he clenched his jaw and fisted his hands at his side. Although she’d retired hours ago, she still wore her gray day gown. Thank God. If she’d shown up in her night rail…

Bloody hell, don’t think of her wearin‘ a night rail. He felt her staring at his profile and resolutely fixed his gaze out the window, but that didn’t help, as he could clearly see her reflected in the glass. Her lovely profile. Her full lips. Her soft hair. Her feminine curves. God help him. Perhaps if he ignored her she would leave. Before she saw the effect she had upon him.

“I came down to make a cup of tea. Would you care for one?”

“No.” The word came out much harsher than he’d intended, and he saw her flinch, saw the look of hurt, surprised confusion pass over her features at his biting tone. Damn it all, he was making a muck of things. He had to get away from her. Now. Intent upon escaping as quickly as possible, he turned swiftly. Too swiftly. As he did so often, he tripped over his own bloody feet, and would have fallen fiat on his face had she not grabbed hold of his upper arms to steady him.

He straightened and found himself standing less than a foot away from her, her hands grasping his upper arms. The heat of humiliation at his clumsiness instantly changed into heat of an entirely different sort, radiating need and want through him from where her hands touched him. Somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice screamed at him to move away from her. But instead he looked into her eyes.

Beautiful gray eyes that stared up at him with an expression he couldn’t name, but that halted his breath just the same. By God, the feel of her hands, even through his shirt, burned fire through him. She was so close. She smelled so delicious. He loved her so deeply. And God help him, he wanted her so badly…

He’d meant to step away. Surely he had. But the longing and desire he’d fought against for so long overwhelmed him, and he stepped forward. Cupped her pale face with one unsteady hand. Wrapped his other arm around her waist to draw her flush against him. Heart slamming against his ribs, limbs shaking, he leaned in and touched his lips to hers, kissing her with all the pent-up love in his soul. For several euphoric seconds. Until he realized he was the only one participating. Abruptly ending the kiss, he straightened. And froze.

She stood wooden in his embrace, face devoid of color, eyes wide and filled with shock. Nothing but shock. No warmth, no desire, no tenderness.

He released her as if she’d burned him, and took two hasty steps backward. And finally another expression filled her eyes.

Pity.

Jesus. Anything but that. Anger. Hatred. Disgust. But not pity. For the virginal cripple who’d made a complete ass out of himself. And destroyed years of friendship with a single, thoughtless act. How could he have been so incredibly stupid?

“I… I’m sorry, Charlotte. Please, forgive me.”

She said nothing, just stood rigidly, hands clenched at her sides, staring at him with that same stunned, pity-filled expression that jabbed a knife straight through his heart. Turning, he strode from the room as swiftly as his lame leg allowed, not stopping until he reached the privacy of his bedchamber. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he propped his elbows on his shaking knees, then lowered his head into his hands.

God Almighty, never, never had anything hurt like this. Not Taggert’s fists, not his leg, nothing. And just when he thought he couldn’t be more mortified, hot tears pushed at the backs of his eyes and a shudder shook him. Bloody hell, he hadn’t been reduced to tears since he was a lad. But these weren’t tears of pain. They were tears of loss.

Another shudder racked him, and a litany of self-directed obscenities whispered past his lips. He’d ruined everything. That one-sided kiss, her utter rejection, and his utter humiliation would always stand between them. Christ, how could he ever look her in the eye again? He’d betrayed her trust. She no doubt thought him nothing more than a randy bastard, the same sort who’d misused her for years.

Raising his head, he dragged his hands down his face. He had two choices. He could try to find some way to accomplish the impossible-to find the words to make amends to her, then pray they could go on as if tonight had never happened. Or he could leave Miss Merrie’s house.

His heart shattered as it recognized that there was really only one choice.

Charlotte stared at the empty doorway where Albert had disappeared, and slowly emerged from the stupor that had afflicted her since the instant he’d stumbled into her arms. Raising a shaking hand, she pressed her fingers to her lips.

Lips that only moments before he’d touched with his own.

Heat swamped her, awakening her senses that his unexpected kiss had frozen with shock. Her eyes slid closed, and she allowed herself to relive those few seconds. Never had a man kissed her like that. With sweet, heart-stopping gentleness. With all her experience, she hadn’t known a kiss could be so… beautiful. Hadn’t known it could rob her of breath. Of movement. Render her wide-eyed, stunned, and speechless.

Yet she should have known that Albert would kiss like that. Everything about him was good and kind, tender and sweet. And heaven help her, she wanted all that goodness and kindness for herself. She wanted Albert for herself. And after the way he’d held her against him, after she’d seen the blatant desire burning in his eyes, there was no denying he’d wanted her.

Pity had suffused her that someone as fine as Albert would waste his desires on someone like her. Which brought to mind the most nagging of questions. Why would he want someone like her? Had he been drinking? No, there’d been no hint of spirits about him. Perhaps it hadn’t been her he’d desired-maybe she’d just happened upon him when he’d been thinking about some other woman, a woman he desired. Yes, most likely she’d simply found Albert at a randy moment. She well knew that men had plenty of those. A man got hard, and any woman would do.

Yet the instant the thought entered her mind, her heart rejected it. No. Albert wasn’t just any man. He was honorable. He’d kissed her because he’d wanted her. And it wasn’t just his body that told her that. It was the look in his eyes.

But that still did not answer why. Why would a decent young man desire a used-up, former whore? ‘Cause he’s lookin’ fer a little tumble, you nodcock. You haven’t wanted a man to touch you fer the past five years. Now you do. Why not give ‘im what he wants? You’ll both get yer itches scratched.

No! She clapped her hands over her ears to drown out the guttural voice from her past. That voice she’d worked so hard, with Meredith’s help, to bury. She wasn’t that woman anymore. She’d made a decent life for herself and for her daughter. And Albert wasn’t the sort of man who’d expect a tumble from her. No, Albert was the sort of man who only would have kissed her if he…

Cared for her. As she cared for him.

Everything inside her stilled. Dear God, was it possible? She hadn’t allowed herself to hope for such a miracle. She squeezed her eyes tight, recalling how unresponsive she’d stood in his arms, and his stricken expression. He would naturally assume her wooden reaction stemmed from being repulsed by him.

She had to know if he cared for her. Had to. Now. If he didn’t, well, she’d take that blow as she’d taken so many others. If he did… She pressed her hands over the spot where her heart beat frantically. Either way, her life was about to change.

Drawing a deep, resolute breath, she walked swiftly from the room and headed toward the stairs. When she reached Albert’s closed bedchamber door, she paused. She heard his distinctive shuffle as he moved about. Summoning all her courage, she knocked.

Nearly a minute passed before he opened the door. Their eyes met, and her insides squeezed at his bleak expression. Stepping across the threshold, she said, “Albert, I…”

Her voice trailed off at the sight of his worn leather portmanteau setting on his neatly made bed. Her gaze panned around the chamber, and her heart sank to her toes. Even in the dim glow of a single candle, she could see that all signs of his personal belongings were gone. His hairbrush. His shaving equipment. Hope’s childish drawings that he’d proudly framed and hung upon his wall as if they’d been painted by Gainsborough himself. His open wardrobe gave testimony to the fact that it was empty.

A deafening silence engulfed them. Charlotte licked her dry lips, and managed to find her voice. “What are you doing?”

A muscle jerked in his cheek. “I’m leaving, Charlotte.”

Three little words. How was it possible for three little words to wreak such havoc? To hurt so badly? “Why?”

Pain flashed in his eyes, then his expression went blank. Shifting his gaze down to the open portmanteau, he said, “I just… need to leave.”

A flicker of hope sparked in her chest at his abject misery. Surely he wouldn’t be so utterly forlorn if he didn’t care deeply? ‘Tis now or never, Charlotte.

Summoning every ounce of bravery she possessed, she asked, “Are you leaving because of me, Albert?”

His head jerked up, and he stared at her through tortured eyes. When he did not reply, she said softly, “Are you leaving because of what just happened between us?”

Color rushed into his face. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I-”

“It’s not an apology I seek, Albert, but an explanation. Why did you kiss me?”

“I lost my head. I don’t know what I was thinkin‘.”

“Were you thinking about me… or was someone else in your mind?”

“Someone else? What do you mean?”

She pressed her hands to her midriff. “Was I the person who inspired that kiss, or was I merely a substitute for another woman?”

A myriad of emotions paraded across his face: confusion, comprehension, then an unmistakable dash of anger. “I’d never use ye in such a way, Charlotte.”

Her knees nearly buckled with relief, and the flame of hope burned brighter. “That kiss-”

“Was a terrible mistake.”

“Why do you say that?”

He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. Then a short, humorless sound escaped him. “Yer horrified reaction made it very clear. Not that I blame ye, of course. I had no right to touch you.”

Her heart squeezed. “I wasn’t horrified, Albert. I was surprised. Shocked, actually. I couldn’t imagine why you would kiss me at all, but most especially like that. ”

“Like that? Ye mean like a piteously green lad.” He all but spit out the words.

“No. I mean like a man kisses a woman he cares for deeply. A woman he… loves.”

Albert prayed for the floor to split open and swallow him. Never, in his entire life, had he been more mortified. Bloody hell, with his clumsy kiss, he’d given away the show.

“Is that how you kissed me, Albert?”

His shoulders slumped at her soft-spoken question. He wanted to deny it, to spare himself from being the further object of her pity, but how could he hope to convincingly lie about something so obvious? Besides, he wouldn’t have to see her pity for long. He’d be gone from here within a matter of hours. “Yes, Charlotte, that is how I kissed you.”

“Because you love me?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He jerked his head in a nod. “Yes. Tonight my feelin’s… they got the better of me. And since I can’t promise that they never would again, I have to leave here. For both our sakes.”

“Oh… my. Albert, that kiss was the most wondrous I’ve ever received. I didn’t even know a kiss could be wondrous until tonight.”

Confusion filled him. “Wondrous? Are ye sayin‘ you liked it?”

“Yes, Albert, that is what I’m saying. But you so surprised me, I did not have the presence of mind to react as I should have. I wouldn’t be so surprised if you were to try it again… now.”

He could only stare, certain he’d misheard her. “Are ye sayin‘ you want me to kiss you?”

“More than anything.”

She couldn’t have struck him more dumb with a brick to his head. Half of him wanted to simply grab her and take advantage of this obvious leave-taking of her wits, but the other half demanded caution. And the assurance that his hearing had not suddenly become afflicted.

“Why would ye want me to kiss you?” he asked carefully, studying her, terrified by the seed of hope struggling to bloom in his heart.

Her eyes filled with such unmistakable tenderness, his breath cut off. “I want you to kiss me because I love you.”

Sweet God, he’d lost his mind. Daft, that’s what he was. Hearing things. Bedlam was the next stop for him.

Clearly he must have looked as dazed as he felt, because her eyes filled with concern. “Albert, did you hear me?”

“I’m not certain. Doesn’t seem possible that I heard what I think I heard. Could ye… say it again?”

A smile trembled on her lips. Then she cleared her throat and said in a slow, distinct, and quite loud voice, “I want you to kiss me because I love you.”

Sweet God, he hadn’t lost his mind! Reaching out, he framed her face between his unsteady hands. She stepped closer to him and lifted her face, sliding her arms around his waist.

“Charlotte…” He brushed his mouth softly across hers, almost afraid to touch her, fearful that he’d suddenly awake and discover this was nothing but a dream, a figment of his imagination. But there was nothing imaginary about the way her lips parted beneath his, or the feel of her arms tightening around him.

Forcing himself to end their kiss before the increasingly urgent demands of his body overrode his judgment, he lifted his head. And looked at the most incredible, beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Charlotte. In his arms. Her lips moist and reddened-from his kiss. Her skin flushed with arousal-from his touch. Her eyes filled with tenderness and love-for him.

He blinked twice, still certain that she would disappear, but she remained in his embrace. God knows he didn’t want to say or do anything to disrupt this magical moment, but he had to ask. “Are ye certain, Charlotte? Certain ye want to take on a man like me?” He looked pointedly down at his leg, then raised his gaze to hers. “I’m damaged goods.”

“So am I. I can’t change my past, Albert.”

“Any more than I can change mine.” He touched her soft cheek, marveling that he could do so. “I’m only interested in yer present and yer future.”

“I’m five years older than you.”

“I don’t care.” Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. “I can’t believe ye’re right here, that I’m touchin‘ you, that you love me. But by God, I’m not goin’ to let this slip away. Charlotte, will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened; then, to his alarm and dismay, a big tear dribbled down her cheek. “Bloody hell! I didn’t mean to make ye cry.” He brushed away the drop with his fingers, but another tear, then another, followed.

“I’m not crying,” she whispered.

“Well, then ye’ve sprung a leak, ‘cause there’s water coming out of yer eyeballs.”

A noise that sounded like a sob and laugh combined rushed from her. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. Feeling utterly helpless, he patted her back, smoothed her hair, and lightly kissed her temple. “Charlotte, please, I can’t stand to see ye cry. Why are ye so upset?”

She raised her head at that. Framing his face between her palms, she said, “I’m not upset. I’m overcome. Stunned. It hadn’t occurred to me that you’d want to marry me.”

“What did ye think I’d want?” Yet the instant he asked the question, he read the answer in her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of dishonorin‘ ye, Charlotte.”

“I’m not the sort of woman a man marries.”

“The hell ye’re not. I want you to be my wife. I want Hope to be my daughter. I guess the only question is, do you want me to be yer husband and Hope’s pa?”

“If you want us-”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

She drew in a visibly shaky breath. “Then yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

It was as if the sun broke out from behind a balloon of dark clouds. Clasping her tightly against him, he kissed her long and deep, until he had to break away to keep his sanity. He rested his forehead against hers for half a minute, catching his breath. “There’s somethin‘ ye should know. I’ve… I’ve never been with a woman.”

“I wish I could tell you that I’ve never been with a man. But I can honestly say that I’ve never made love with a man before.”

He lifted his head and smiled. “Is it true? Are ye really goin‘ to be my wife?”

She smiled in return. “Yes. Are you truly going to be my husband?”

“Yes. And the sooner, the better. I, urn, hope you won’t be wantin‘ a long engagement.”

“Albert, it’s not necessary for us to wait until we’re married to-”

He silenced her with a kiss. “Yes. It is. Ye deserve all the respect due a proper lady, and I’ll not besmirch yer honor by taking ye before we’re wed. I never thought I’d have ye, Charlotte. Now that ye’re mine, I can wait.”

The love and gratitude shining in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees. “I cannot wait to tell Hope and Meredith our happy news,” she said. “Won’t she be surprised to learn that while she was attending a dinner party to find Lord Greybourne a perfect match, we found a perfect match of our own?”

“A mighty successful evenin‘ as far as I’m concerned,” he said, returning her smile. “I only hope Miss Merrie’s was as successful.”