A Valentine For Christmas - A Regency Novella (8 page)

Her first kiss. It was oddly familiar and yet, at the same time, utterly surprising, as if she was rediscovering something she had always sensed but had never come across until now.

Lord Valentine’s kiss made her entire body tingle with an effervescent warmth that started at her toes and ended with at the crown of her head. It was as if a sultry wind had blown threw her, heating up every part of her body. His mouth was surprisingly firm, surprisingly demanding but then, as this was her first ever kiss she was inclined to be surprised in every way. Never before had she felt so female as she did when his lips crushed the softness of her own. How did she know that the insistence of his mouth should lead her to open her own to him? It was as much a mystery as the flood of delicious sensation that cascaded through her when his tongue slid into the warm, dark intimacy of her mouth. The delicate invasion created a sudden heaviness within; moving through her breasts, slipping between her legs… This was that thing she had read about in books – read about and thrilled to – without actually understanding what the author had meant. It was hinted at, but never elucidated because some things needed to be experienced.

He did not take her in his arms. The only connection was their mouths but it was an anchor to the emotional storm that now blew within her with all the intensity of the one currently beating against the walls of the house.

When he finally broke that connection, drawing back to look at her, his dark eyes glazed and hectic, Charlie was still incapable of speech. She could only stare at him, as a mouse must necessarily stare at a cat who held its fate in thrall, pinned in place by the force of her own, unexpected passion and the look on his face.

For a long, long moment, neither of them moved. Then Lord Valentine uttered a curse that Charlie was almost sure was far worse than anything she had yet heard in her eighteen years, before turning to stride swiftly from the room.

‘Well,’ she breathed in wonder to the empty room, trying to get her breath back. ‘I certainly did not expect
that
!’

Which she hadn’t, not at all. It had been a most shocking and scandalous occurrence she had ever experienced in all of her eighteen years.

If only she felt a little more shocked and a little less enchanted.

His lordship was shocked, well and truly. Shocked to have kissed the innocent daughter of his host. Shocked that he had lost control of himself enough to have done such a reprehensible thing. Just… shocked. And not least by his fervent desire to repeat the unexpected act of madness. Ending that kiss had taken a great deal of will power. Not immediately repeating his folly even more so. In the relative security of his room, he paced the floor and tried to understand what had just happened.

Some of it was comprehensible, by the standards he was familiar with.

Her lips had been so soft, so incredibly sweet. Thank God he had not followed his inclination to take her into his arms. Pressing that delightful body against his own would have been his undoing. Valentine tried, and failed, to recall a time when he had behaved so appallingly. Not even when he was in his cups had he leapt upon a woman in such a way, let alone a little innocent like Charlotte Weathering.

There was no excusing his behavior. The devil only knew how he was going to face her again. An apology was certainly in order although, considering what had just happened, it would be wise not to spend any more time alone with Miss Weathering that was strictly necessary. She was bad for a man’s composure, both mental
and
physical. Even now, thinking about the physical aspect had him aching.

Valentine groaned out loud.

He had not thought it possible that his stay with the Weatherings could grow more problematic but he had been wrong. Although honestly, his bizarre behavior had come as a complete surprise. He had not
known
he was going to kiss the chit. It was an impulse that had swept through him when he had looked down into those limpid eyes of hers, exacerbated by the fact that she had the unhappy knack of stirring strong emotions within him. And he could not discount those lips of hers – full and soft and so very kissable – that had rested so close to his own hungry mouth. It was hardly an excuse – he had no excuses – but it was the truth of it. Charlotte Weathering was the kind of girl that needed to be kissed frequently and well. He had seen
that
from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her.

Unfortunately she was also the kind of girl he habitually avoided at all costs. She thought him ‘interesting’. She believed he needed her assistance. Such girls were invariably trouble. Fortunately, he did not encounter them all that frequently but this time he had really landed in the middle of it, unable to escape, unable to avoid her without appearing as the most churlish guest imaginable. However eccentric the Weatherings might be, they had been nothing but kind to him. And to Madeleine, of course. At the thought of his capricious mistress, his scowl deepened. What the devil did she think she was up to, flirting with those two boys? If the circumstances were different, he would have been delighted to have her otherwise occupied but lads such as the two oldest Weatherings were babes in the wood when faced with the likes of Madeleine du Pont. It was fortunate they did not have a deal of money behind them or who only knew what the venal creature would get up to. And the worst thing was, he could tell neither of them what the true situation was. They thought the girl his cousin, which naturally meant that she was quality. If only that were true; having seen the girl enraged and reverting to language a French fishwife would blush at, he knew she was anything but.

He gave the unrelenting storm beyond the window a malevolent glance and wondered how he was supposed to survive the next few days or, God forbid, the many days it might take for the roads to become passable again. One thing was certain; he would not be taking Madeleine into Norfolk with him. No matter what, she would be delivered back to London and he would continue on alone for if there was one thing he craved, it was peace and quiet for a few weeks.

Well, not the
one
thing, he had to admit, recollecting Miss Weathering’s delicious mouth and how very delicious it had felt beneath his own. Kissing her had made his fingers twitch, longing to wander and explore the wonders he knew would be lurking beneath the modest blue gown that she wore. But it could not be. It
must
not be, despite the fact that, unless he was much mistaken, she had kissed him back.

At times like this he was forced to remind himself that he was a gentleman. Although, there had never been a time quite like this, it must be admitted. But abstinence, it was said, formed the character, shaping it into a better man and God alone knew, he could do with some reconstruction in that area. If there was one thing he
really
did not need for Christmas, it was for a pretty, exasperating girl to devote herself to his salvation.

He had long since given up on that. Better to go to hell in a manner of his own choosing.

Chapter Five

It might be thought that Charlie would be cast down by her failure to elicit any worthwhile information from his lordship. It might even be considered inevitable that she would have been thoroughly shocked by his misuse of her mouth at their last encounter. It was well known that gentlemen did not behave in such a manner. Even in the wilds of Cambridgeshire, it had been drummed into all the Weathering children – male and female alike – that manhandling of any kind was to be frowned on.

Charlie supposed it must be a sad failing on her part that she was
not
shocked. Rather, she had found Lord Valentine’s kiss to be extraordinary stimulating and, if the opportunity presented itself, she quietly hoped that he would do so again. Such a state of mind might prove that her mother’s attitude towards the reading of gothic novels had some substance but Charlie suspected she would have found that kiss delightful without the intervention of Mrs. Radcliff. His lordship was very attractive, pleasingly inscrutable and an excellent kisser. At least, she assumed he was. It was difficult to imagine how such an exchange could improve upon.

‘It was only a kiss,’ she had reasoned a little later, when her heart had stopped hammering and her body had returned to something that bordered on normal. ‘It is not as if he seduced me.’

She would certainly have drawn the line at
that
. Well, almost certainly. Her mother had raised her most particularly in areas such as unseemly behavior. Just the same, she could not help but wonder what such a thing would feel like, if a brief kiss had caused her to almost swoon with delight. From the rather guarded references in the books she had read, Charlie had suspected that a kiss was well worth doing. But to discover for herself that a man’s mouth could be so pleasant, arousing sensations in her that had made her quite limp with incredulous delight – well, it had been a revelation!

If the opportunity presented itself, perhaps he would take advantage of her again. She was prepared to believe that it might not happen. If his lordship’s rapid retreat was anything to go by, he believed he had overstepped the mark and would make sure he did not do so a second time.

Unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it other than make overtures of her own and that would never do. It would mean that she was bold and no female of good breeding liked to be thought of as
that
. It rather limited ones options, really but unfortunately there was no help for it.

What she
could
do was continue her investigation into Lord Valentine’s unhappy attitude. With this in mind, she had determined to coerce him into joining the family for the tree decorating ceremony. She had even garnered the support of her mother in this endeavor with her artful observation that, ‘It was a pity his lordship is not here to enjoy such a wonderful tradition.’

‘Indeed it is. Such a pity that he has so little family. Do go and ask if he would like to join us, my dear.’

Which was precisely what Charlie had been angling for, so the response was gratifying. Of course, it was the first time she had seem him since that kiss, which was probably why her heart was thudding rather hard when she knocked on the door of his bedchamber. Not that she would step inside, she assured herself. But it felt scandalous, given their recent history, even to be there.

Nobody came to the door. After a moment, she knocked again, as firmly as she could. This time she heard footsteps and took a half step backwards. It didn’t do to appear too eager. His lordship opened the door and if there had been one word to describe him it would have been along the lines of mussed, with disgruntled running an easy second. He looked to be in an even worse humor than previously, dark hair ruffled as if he had been running his fingers through it. He was not wearing either a jacket or a neckcloth and his white lawn shirt was open and showed a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin.

He looked as if he had been lying down and she had woken him.

He looked like a bear with a sore head.

He
looked
sinfully good-looking and her mouth went dry.

She swallowed and tried to collect her wits. ‘My lord,’ she said cautiously. She had not expected him to be happy at her intrusion and so was not in the least surprised by the surly expression, although the exposed flesh had come as a shock. ‘I am sorry to intrude. Did I wake you?’

‘Would that I had been able to sleep. What can I do for you, Miss Weathering? And please,’ he held up a hand, ‘let’s avoid using words such as troubled and help, shall we?’ The tone, along with the words, were decidedly curt.

Which was all very well but he had
kissed
her, Charlie thought indignantly. Under the circumstances his attitude left much to be desired.

He was being appallingly rude. In the normal course of events, Charlie would have been a little hurt but she told herself that she must make allowances for the man. ‘We would like you to join us.’

‘Yes,’ he looked her over grimly, ‘I know. But I have no intention of indulging you. I do not want to decorate your tree with you. I do not want to do anything that is Christmas related with you. Not today. Not tomorrow. Do you understand?’

She raised her chin a little. ‘It seems that you are quite prepared to do
some
things with me.’

He had the grace to flush at that. ‘Dear God, you are a vexing female!’

‘And you are being ridiculous. And impossible. I find your attitude most perplexing.’

‘It cannot be helped. It is
my
attitude.’

Still no relenting. Charlie sighed. ‘Please, can you not confide in me? Did your parents not celebrate at this time of year? Did something dreadful happen to you?’

Something flickered in those dark eyes and was gone. ‘Go away, Miss Weathering,’ he snapped and closed the door in her face.

So it
was
something to do with his parents… Well naturally it would be. He had probably been deprived of his inheritance or wronged in some equally painful way.

Charlie stared at the smooth oak surface for a moment, considering her next move. She
could
persist. Lord knows, her siblings knew how persistent she could be. But it was time to fall back on other weapons in her armory. Returning downstairs, she looked at her father pensively. ‘Do you know, Papa, I think Lord Valentine is shy? He said that he did not want to intrude upon family time and I could not convince him to join us, no matter how I tried.’

Madeleine, seated between an attentive James and Harry, gave a peal of laughter. ‘Valentine! Shy!’