An Heir of Deception (37 page)

“Which is just as well, you know as well as I that we are much better off as friends than we ever would have been lovers.”

In that moment of clarity it struck her; the question she’d posed to him in the letter she’d sent after he’d already left for England.

“Lucas, who told you my sister was failing?”

Some unidentifiable emotion flashed in his eyes but vanished just as quickly. “I can’t accurately recall her name. But she informed me she’d received the information on good authority. I believe she claimed a close acquaintance with the physician’s wife. But as it’s obvious she was misinformed, I believe she must have confused the names.”

Of course Lucas had no knowledge of the issues she and her family faced, but Charlotte thought it too coincidental that the threat of exposure had sent her fleeing and then five years later, information of her sister’s ill health conveniently found its way to her. Anyone the least bit acquainted with them would have known such information would bring her back.

This convinced her that whoever sent the letter was still about and it was through their machinations she was here in England. The knowledge sent a frisson of fear down the length of her spine. But she hadn’t time to dwell on it now. She had more important matters at hand and she’d not worry him with her concerns.

“Well, I’m relieved she was mistaken. What matters now is that I have to make things right with my husband, and your presence here is making that impossible. I don’t mean for you to remove yourself from our lives forever, just for now. I need to give Alex time to feel more comfortable in his role as husband and father.”

“What of your sister? We’ve grown close.” He appeared conflicted.

Oh God, she’d completely forgotten about Katie in that respect. This entire situation was more complicated than the written Chinese language. It was clear he had developed feelings for her sister and vice versa. But how serious were they?

“If your intentions are marriage, I will simply have to appeal to Alex’s sense of family for I refuse to be estranged from my sister.” If not, it was better he left now before her sister’s heart became involved—if it hadn’t already.

Lucas took his time responding as he studied her quietly. “After I’ve finished my business in London, I will return to America.”

A sob caught in her throat.

“Please tell Nicholas goodbye.”

Charlotte pressed her knuckle against her teeth and nodded, her gaze staring sightlessly at the floor.

Gently, he lifted her chin with his finger. “Don’t cry, everything will turn out fine,” he whispered.

“You are the dearest friend,” Charlotte managed to choke out amidst a fresh well of tears.

Lucas gave her a sad smile and then planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “Be well.”

Lucas descended the stairs stone-faced and grim. God save him from jealous husbands. Although he could well understand the marquess’s reaction. He himself had reeled at Charlotte’s confession. She hadn’t been a widow, she’d been a runaway bride. If he’d thought she’d have shared her reasons for her flight, he’d have asked, but there’d been something in her tone that had told him that door was closed to him.

One thing was clear, he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought he had.

At the bottom of the stairs, he scanned the empty foyer and thought briefly of seeking out Catherine. But what could he say? He lived in America and her place was here. He’d been fooling himself into believing he could have anything with her. She wasn’t the type of woman a man took as his mistress. For one, her brother would have his head on a pike. Secondly, she was the kind of woman one married, the kind of proper English lady who should wed a likewise English gentleman. He was not one nor would he ever be.

“Lucas?”

He felt that odd clenching in the pit of his stomach just hearing Catherine’s voice. He stood unmoving as he watched her approach, his body immediately reacting to the vision she made. She was buttoned all the way up to her neck and covered down to her delicate wrists, but the cobalt blue gown she wore, lovingly outlined beautiful feminine curves.

The time he’d spent with her over the past weeks had given a whole new meaning to the term sweet torture. She moved like a dream and possessed a sensual allure few men could resist. He certainly hadn’t been able nor wanted to.

“I didn’t know you had come.” She smiled and it was that sweet, shy sort of smile that did things to his insides. Softened the hardness there.

“Actually, I was on my way out. I just called to say goodbye.”

Her smile became less certain. “Oh.”

“I have business in London today.”

“Will—will you be coming back?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, I am due back home the week after next so from London, I’ll be returning to America.”

Pain flickered in her eyes and he wanted to smash something. “I see.” She drew in a breath and fixed a smile on her face that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well then I shall wish you a safe passage back.”

God, how he hated this. Hated himself in that very moment. She was hurt and there was nothing he could say that would make it better. Charlotte had said if his intentions were marriage, she would go back and plead her case with her husband. But he’d only spent the better part of two weeks in Catherine’s company. He’d kissed her the one time—and what a kiss it had been. Yes, he was strongly attracted to her but he couldn’t truthfully tell Charlotte he planned to marry her. The things separating them were too many.

“Catherine—”

“Goodbye, Mr. Beaumont.” When she spoke her voice was too civil and much too polite to be anything but a dismissal.

“Goodbye, Catherine,” he said softly, feeling more than a twinge of regret for what might have been under different circumstances.

Chapter Twenty

“Did you see him today?”

Charlotte started at the roughness of Alex’s voice when she walked in to her bed chambers that evening.

She’d come back to the house around midday to find he’d yet to return. She’d consumed—although just barely—a solitary supper in the dining room and had spent the last hour with Nicholas getting him off to sleep. He’d demanded she read him two stories instead of the customary one.

“Alex. When did you come home?”

“Answer my question. Did you see
your
Mr. Beaumont today?”

He sat reclined in the chair by the fireplace, hands folded across his chest and a necktie draped loosely about his neck. He’d removed his coat, which hung over the back of the chair, and his unbuttoned waistcoat revealed a wrinkled, pale blue shirt beneath. A day’s growth of whiskers shadowed the angular planes of his jaw. In a word, he looked a rumpled mess.

Charlotte knew she needed to tread with undue care. “Yes, when I called on Catherine this morning, Lucas was there but not at my invitation. However, Lucas is gone now. He’s back in London and from there he will be returning to America. He came by my brother’s house to say goodbye.”

Alex uncrossed his arms and sat up higher in the chair. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did he leave?” He asked as if he already knew the answer.

Charlotte swallowed hard. “Because I asked him to.”

“And why did you ask him to leave? You yourself said I was being unreasonable as he was just a friend. Why did you ask him to go if there was nothing going on between you?”

“Because I realized how unfeeling I’ve been. And today, I
saw
the effect with my own eyes. Saw that having him here was tearing you apart. And I simply couldn't stand to see you hurting like that.” The words felt torn from her throat, acrid and raw like her emotions.

Alex stared at her and then cast his gaze off in the distance. Clasping his hands between his legs, he started speaking in a low voice fraught with emotion. “All those years, he had everything that was mine. My wife. My child. Everything. He knows things about my son I do not. Things I have yet to learn. Things I should know.”

“Oh Alex, it wasn’t like that at all. He never
had
me and Nicholas knows Lucas isn’t really a relation. Your son loves
you
, his father. Nothing will change that.” Charlotte vowed she wouldn’t fall apart, but the edge was but a short step away.

Alex turned his attention back to her and rose from the chair.

“Did you tell him you loved me and only me? Did you tell him that you and Nicholas belong here with me?” he asked as he approached her, something dark and dangerous in his stormy gray eyes.

And just like that, the hum of sexual energy that had always existed between them became a roar. Like a storm that had been building for days, it rushed in with gale force winds.

His hand snaked out and snatched her to him, their bodies meeting like a magnet to the most powerful force field. His mouth all but crashed down on hers, but she welcomed the kiss, parting her lips for the sinewy thrust of his tongue.

He made quick work of her clothes, impatiently divesting her of her day dress and petticoats, without once removing his mouth from hers.

Charlotte drew his tongue into her mouth and proceeded to ravish it as he’d often done to her, eliciting a groan from him that originated deep in his throat. He tasted like brutish male strength and mint, and the scent of his cologne made her briefly think of heather in the spring. But he wouldn’t be conquered for too long, taking the kiss back under his control by drugging her with licks, swipes and long, thorough strokes of his tongue.

Impatient, Alex finally broke the kiss to tug her silk chemise over her head. Her nipples puckered the second the cool air touched them. He instantly warmed them, cupping them in his large hands, where they pebbled further under his toying fingers.

“Oh God, Charlotte,” Alex said hoarsely, staring down at her breasts, his eyes glazed with passion. Ducking his head, he touched her nipple with the tip of his tongue and slowly, with the fierce concentration of a child trying to paint within the lines, rimmed the rosy, ruched perimeter. A charring sensation coursed from her breast to her core, where she grew moist with need.

Suddenly, her head felt too heavy for her neck to support and she could do little else but sag forward, resting her forehead on the top of his head. She ran her fingers through the weight of his hair, tugging on the dark strands, urging his mouth closer. He was doing nothing but teasing her with his light caresses. She wanted him to take her in his mouth.

“Alex,” she said, his name a breathless whimper. Why must he tease her like this? He knew what she wanted.

His only response was to transfer his attentions to her other breast, the stroke of his tongue on her nipple as if he had all night and wasn’t in a rush.

Impatient and growing frustrated by the moment, Charlotte ground her hips against his and pressed hard on the back of his head to push her breast into his mouth. He emitted something between a grunt and a groan before finally drawing her nipple firmly between his lips. He began to suckle as he pressed his erection hard into the giving softness between her thighs.

Charlotte thought she would expire, the pleasure he ignited within her so intense it made her dizzy. God, how she wanted him inside her and clenched her inner walls in anticipation of his possession.

“Alex,” she said, nearly sobbing his name.

With one last delicious draw on her nipple, Alex stood up straight. His slumberous eyes devoured her as he began pulling off his clothes.

Eager to aid him in his efforts, Charlotte reached out but he retreated a step, denying her the pleasure.

“My need is too great. If you touch me now, we won’t make it to the bed.”

“I don’t care,” she moaned, blind with need. She stepped forward and reached for him again.

This time he took two steps back. His waistcoat dropped to the floor and seconds later, his shirt joined the growing heap at his feet. “No, believe me. It is better this way. Once we start, I won’t let you up until dawn. I want you comfortable.”

His words, the hungry grumble of his voice and the lustful intent in his eyes caused another flood of moisture between her thighs. But heeding his wish, Charlotte stepped from the circle of silk and satin of her discarded gown and underclothes, and wearing a pair of pale pink stockings and garters, slid onto the bed behind her.

If she had to be content to merely watch him, she may as well do so in style and torture him just a little for his neglect. On her back, she scooted into the middle of the bed, propped herself up on her arms and allowed her legs to fall open just a little.

But enough.

Alex’s expletive rent the air. Then in a flurry of movement, he pulled off his trousers and drawers. All this he did with his eyes locked on the one place on her currently demanding his undivided attention.

When he was fully unclothed, Charlotte pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and ran her tongue along the fleshy inside as she took in his thick erection straining against the hard, ridged flesh of his stomach where an arrow of dark hair thickened.