Read Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord Online
Authors: Tiffany Clare
Tags: #Romance, #Historical romance, #st, #Fiction
“Can’t we keep him, Papa?” Ronnie asked, batting her long lashes.
“All creatures of the wild must stay in their ecosystem; it would upset the balance to remove him.” When her mouth fell on a pout, he added, “They eat insects and slugs, would you mind feeding those to him?”
“I don’t mind,” Rowan piped in.
Tristan ruffled his son’s hair. “And what if this turtle has a friend in the lake? Surely you want to send him off so his friend isn’t alone too long.” With that reasoning, the children looked at each other, and then ran toward the lake.
“Well argued, my lord.” Charlotte stared after the children, her hands folded behind her back and the long-stemmed daisies stretching out on either side of her.
“Will we be making daisy laurels over luncheon?”
She looked at him with a wry grin. “Only if you help.”
“I am a king at making laurels.”
Charlotte laughed. “You are a surprising man.”
“I’m glad you are amused by the many facets of my character.”
Chapter 19
A certain duke has made his intentions clear to this writer. Does he not realize his devotion to a particular woman has been noticed?
—The Mayfair Chronicles,
August 1846 Tristan had been told that a rider was coming up to the property five minutes ago, so he awaited the arrival of his friend in the drive.
“Hayden.” Tristan greeted his friend warmly as he dismounted from his bay horse.
“It didn’t make sense to respond to your letter, so I headed straight here.” Hayden removed his riding gloves and handed them over to the footman standing close by. “Have you had any further word or instruction?”
Tristan shook his head. “Nothing. I’ve yet to respond to him. Surely we can come to another agreement.”
Hayden patted Tristan’s shoulder as he turned them both in the direction of the house. “Were you given a location in the letter?”
“He doesn’t want me back in London. The rags will find out before long that something is brewing. And the last thing we need is to be discovered.”
“If there was another way, I would have found it. But your honor is at stake here. You cannot refuse the challenge.”
“And I cannot hurt Charlotte’s father.” The thought of dueling had been eating him up on the inside since yesterday. He didn’t like it one bit.
“Then don’t hurt him. You can always aim wide and miss your target.”
“And do you think he’ll be so kind as to do the same?” Tristan ran his hand through his hair, frustrated by the whole situation.
“Perhaps if you give him a few days, he’ll decide against widowing his daughter.”
Tristan led Hayden into the library and they sat across from each other in deep leather chairs.
Hayden sat forward with his elbows on his knees. “Now that I’m here as your second, we could formulate a response to Ponsley’s need for satisfaction.”
Tristan couldn’t calmly sit down and discuss this like it was a normal day-to-day affair. He went to the sideboard and poured out two drams of brandy.
“I’d prefer to forget the whole sordid business and walk away intact and alive.”
“Why would you worry about walking away alive from anything?” Charlotte asked from the door. He hadn’t heard her enter the library.
Hayden stood from the chair and bowed.
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, Your Grace.” She held a book out toward Tristan, her gaze narrowed on him. “I came to return this and was about to make my presence known when I overheard the last part of your conversation.”
“I was attending to business matters in here,” Tristan said. He hated to be found out this way. He had planned on telling his wife about the duel, but not until the logistics had been thought through.
“Life and death business. You know what the funniest thing is when you marry?” There was no missing the anger that slowly rose in her voice.
Tristan was calm when he responded. “I know you’ll enlighten us.”
“It seems that I now have a vested interest in your livelihood.” Her gaze snapped to his. “Now tell me what has happened.”
Hayden cleared his throat, drawing Charlotte’s attention his way. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady. I’ll pay my respects to Bea and the children while you two discuss this privately.”
Charlotte didn’t even bid the duke farewell. Instead, she crossed her arms over her midsection and glared at Tristan.
“Well?” she said, irritated.
He drank the shot of his liquor and poured a healthier dose—he’d need it to tell Charlotte the truth. “Your father has called me out.”
“As in he wishes you to duel at dawn?” Charlotte’s tone held laughter, as though she thought he jested.
“Quite.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Do gentlemen still engage in such barbaric acts?”
“Some do. I am not generally the type to do so.”
“And neither is my father,” she said, unbelieving.
“I wish that were the case, but sadly, it is not.” He came toward her, took the book from her loose fingers to toss it in the direction of the chairs, and handed her the glass of brandy. “Take a sip. It’ll calm your nerves.”
She drank it down greedily.
“I don’t understand how this is happening,” she said in disbelief.
“I wanted to show you the letter, but haven’t had the opportunity to do so before now.”
“A moment ago, it didn’t sound like you had any intention of telling me about this.”
“What would you have me do, Charlotte?” He drank in the sight of his wife worried about him. It was testament to how much she did care about him and about their marriage.
“I’m your wife, doesn’t that mean I’m entitled to know whether there is a threat against you?”
“I was hoping your father would have a change in heart.” He caressed the side of her face, needing desperately to cement the feel of her in his heart.
“Ignore his summons,” she blurted out.
He sighed, wishing that were possible. “You know I can’t.”
“You won’t hurt my father, will you?” she asked in a small voice.
He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. “I wouldn’t dream of it, even if the old blighter might deserve it for the way he’s treated you—or have you forgotten?”
She shook her head. “He’s my father. I love him, Tristan. What will you do?”
“I have to respond. I will choose the place, and I suppose he’ll choose the weapon.”
“Can’t you simply respond with a no?”
He put Charlotte at arm’s length. “As preferable as that is, no, I cannot. That’s why Hayden is here. Your father would only hurt your name more if I ignored his challenge. He’d run both our names through the mud for cowardice and lack of honor.”
“Oh, Tristan.” Charlotte placed her hands on either side of his face and gave him a sad look. Tears filled her eyes. “I can’t lose you when I’ve only just found you.”
He smiled in an attempt to make light of the situation. “You have so little faith in me, wife.”
“I don’t. You won’t hurt my father?”
“I promise I won’t. But I doubt he’ll return that favor.”
“Who would put this idea in his head?”
“I can think of only one person,” he said darkly.
“I must be there, Tristan.” She reached for him, but he stepped away. “I can talk sense into my father.”
“You will be far removed from everything.” He caressed her cheek. “Hayden will be with me.”
“He’s not your wife.” Her tone was stern.
He pulled her in close again, his arms around her hips, hands over her rear, their pelvises lined up as she fisted her hands in his sleeves. He pressed his forehead to hers. “It won’t happen today, so we’ve time yet to get to know each other, fall in love, do all the things a man and a woman do when they are smitten with each other.”
Her fists squeezed tighter as if he were a lifeline she refused to release. “I’ll not let you change the topic so easily. I will continue to persuade you that this isn’t the right choice.”
“It might not be what you want to hear, but it has to be done.”
“How will I know you fare well?” The worry was palpable in her tone.
“Just believe it and it’ll be true.” He kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I love the feel of you in my arms, Char.”
“I love being in your arms. If that’s taken away from us…”
His hold tightened around her “I’ll not leave this life lightly. You and the children are everything to me.”
He wanted to retire for the remainder of the day, lock him and his wife in their room, and do what had yet to be done since they had married. But Hayden had only just arrived so he would have to settle for a few stolen kisses.
“I have to make sure Hayden is settled in,” he said as his lips brushed across hers again.
“He’ll be with Bea now.” Her voice was husky, desire overcoming her just as it was overpowering him. “I don’t want you to go yet.”
“You’re right. Bea can handle him for the time being. I’m sure Rowan and Ronnie are showing him the mass of treasures they’ve gathered since arriving here.”
“Their rocks?”
He nodded—Ronnie had convinced Rowan to collect any sort of sparkling granite rock since they’d been home in Birmingham. They had a box full of useless rocks, but it was an amusement that was easily entertained. “And that damn turtle I saw in the garden again this morning, chomping down on a strawberry left for him by one of the children.”
Charlotte’s eyes lit up with amusement. “I would bet my finest frock that it was Rowan.”
He smiled down at his wife. The door wasn’t locked, but it was unlikely that they would be disturbed, since the children would be occupied with Hayden, as would his sister.
“I think you’re right on that count. You’ve taken a quick liking to them.”
“It’s hard not to when they are so much like their father.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He walked her backward, toward the sofa situated between the two leather chairs that faced the fireplace.
Their steps were slow, like they were dancing. One of his hands was on her waist, hers resting above his cravat and moving higher to his face. They stared into each other’s eyes. Good Lord, he wanted her here and now.
* * *
It was like a dance of seduction. Charlotte wanted to repeat everything that had happened the night before their wedding. Right now. Was it the fact that his life was on the line that frightened her and made her seek comfort in an intimacy that could only be shared between a husband and wife?
Really, she couldn’t believe she was contemplating this at only eleven in the morning. But the things he’d said and hinted at. Could it be that he more than liked her? Could it be that he was indeed falling in love with her?
The thought of anyone hurting her husband made her heart leap right into her throat. She couldn’t lose him when she’d only just found him. Did that mean she’d fallen in love with him? Certainly it must when she couldn’t bear thinking of a life without him.
“Tristan,” she whispered as his mouth pecked gently at hers again.
“I want you, Char. God, don’t say no.” He kissed her again as her back hit the top edge of the sofa. “I need you.”
The way he said that made her melt from the inside out. She didn’t doubt his need for even a second because it matched hers.
“I need you, too.” She kissed him more fiercely this time, slipping her tongue between his lips. Her hands moved higher, one at his neck, the other tangled in his unruly hair.
His arms came tightly around her, and he nearly lifted her from the ground. Her skirts inched up, and the heated air around them touched her shins. She pushed his coat from his shoulders, but the material stopped at his elbows.
His mouth savaged hers, their teeth clanking together in their need to be closer. Her body felt like it was on fire. Her breasts felt heavy and ached for his touch, her stomach was full of butterflies flitting to and fro, and the most private part of her pulsed deep inside, needing him to stroke her desire to full life.
“I’m going to take you here,” he said as his mouth tore away from hers.
His teeth nibbled a path over her jaw and neck, lighting a fire beneath her skin that could only be vanquished with his touch. He edged them around the sofa, and then they were both falling over the arm, the cushions softening the impact of their fall.
The press of his body atop hers sent a thrill of desire through her whole body. She had craved his touch. It was time they stopped dancing around each other and embraced what they both wanted.
“I want you inside me again, Tristan.” She pulled at his cravat, wanting to feel the heat of his skin.
He leaned over her, his weight on his hands and braced on either side of her shoulders. “You’re sure?” His expression was somber, serious.
In demonstration of how much she truly needed him, she lowered her hands to her thighs and pulled up her skirts.
“I’ve never been more sure.”
His hands tangled in her hair, and his eyes closed as he pressed his forehead to hers. He lifted his lower body from hers as she hiked the intrusive material of her dress right up and over her hips. He groaned as his hardness met her center.