What Not to Bare: A Loveswept Historical Romance (26 page)

As though she cared at all that the coverlet was made of the softest goose feathers.

“And if there’s nothing else, my lord, my lady?” the man said, having finished his exhaustive accounting of all the room offered.

“Nothing else, thank you,” David replied, handing the man a larger gratuity than he deserved. Or perhaps he did deserve it, having done an exhaustive inventory.

The door shut, and the room suddenly seemed very large. Or small.

“Why?”

Charlotte raised her chin, a stubborn look on her face. “You do not really wish to marry me, you are just doing it because you have a fondness for me, and you saw a chance to be as useful as you ever had been before.” She swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “And I will not be your pity wife, not when you deserve so much more.”

“You think I want to marry you because it makes me feel useful?” David had tried to hold his temper in during the ride to find her, but it appeared he had not done that good a job. “How low in esteem do you hold yourself? That you would think that I’d want to marry you solely because I felt sorry for you? That I wanted to save your reputation?”

“That is what you said!” she shot back at him.

“I did not offer for you just because of the gossip! I had been planning to ask you that evening already, whether you will believe me or not. The gossip just made it take a different course.”

She frowned, as though processing the information. And then opened her mouth as though to say something. Only to shut it.

Fancy that. Charlotte at a loss for words.

He shook his head as he went to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I hate to remind you of this, but you already had a reputation when I met you. I am not some sort of martyr to the Cause of Charlotte.”

“Then why?” she asked. It sounded like a genuine question, as though she really had no clue as to the answer.

David took a deep breath. “Because I love you.”

She glanced away, as though she didn’t believe him. Again.

“Charlotte, look at me.”

She met his gaze again, all sorts of emotion brimming in her earth-brown eyes: confusion, sadness, and worry, but also hope and … love?

“I have never felt this way with any other woman before. I said you undo me, and that is true. You undo me emotionally, and physically, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together, answering your questions, laughing with you, encouraging you to dress as outrageously as you please. I want to be with you, Charlotte, and I don’t care how useless I am to anyone—as long as I am useful to you.”

“But what about India?”

“India.” He drew a length of fabric from his pocket and held it up to her as he knelt in front of her. “This is a sample of fabric from a sari, the type of gown ladies wear in India. I thought you might like to have it.”

She took it from him, her eyes widening as she looked at the array of colors and patterns on the cloth.

“I know that I might not be able to return to precisely what I was doing before, but I realized when I was thinking about it that I hadn’t even asked what you wanted to do for the future. I didn’t consult you when I announced our betrothal, I didn’t ask you to marry me properly, and I didn’t ask your opinion about the possibility of returning to India with me.” He took her hand. “I am supposed to be clever with words, and have some skill in persuading people to do what I wish, but with you”—he shook his head again—“I just lose myself.”

“Because I … I undo you?”

He nodded. “Would you mind if I stood up? My knees are aching, and my neck is getting a crick in it from trying to look at you.”

She smiled and bit her lip, as though trying to contain her laughter. “Of course not.” She helped him stand up and didn’t protest when he took her into his arms.

It had only been a day, but he’d already missed her so much. He drew her tight into him and kissed the top of her head. “Let me try better this time. For once.” He cleared his throat. “Charlotte, Lady Charlotte, I love you. I love you so much it frightens me. I want to be with you, no matter where we end up, no matter what we end up doing.
More than useful, you make me feel valued for more than what I can do for people. More than what I look like. You challenge me to be a better man, and I want to be challenged by you every day. So, will you marry me?”

He felt her tremble in his arms, and his breath caught. She still might say no. He knew she liked him, but she hadn’t ever mentioned feeling anything more.

And then, just when he was about to blurt something out that would be more like his usual gauche-mat self, she nodded against his chest. “Yes, David. I love you, too. I love you so much, I didn’t want to be the one who ruined your life.”

He chuckled, and pulled her closer. “You will not, I promise.”

Then she pulled away, just enough so she could tilt her head up. Not, this time, with a question to ask, but because she wanted to kiss him.

His answer was to press his mouth against hers.

Charlotte leaned her head back against the chair, loving how the hot sun seemed to permeate her skin all the way down to her bones.

At first, her uncle hadn’t believed her when she’d told him she wanted, truly wanted, to go to India. He’d called a family meeting, even summoning her brother, Christian, from whichever library he’d been in, and dragging her father away from his card games to come share his opinion.

It did not sit well with him at all that the other males in her family were all for Charlotte having an adventure. Then he’d been livid at David for having the audacity to actually fall in love with Charlotte, but eventually he’d listened to both of them—well, primarily David, as he was far better at persuasion than she was—and had agreed to let David return to work, to India, where he could be useful. David wasn’t doing precisely the same thing as before, but it was equally as engaging and didn’t leave him too exhausted at the end of the night to work for her. She smirked as she thought about it.

Sarah had come also, which made Gotam happy. Sarah had met his family already, and it was only a matter of time before they were married, as well. They just had to persuade his grandmother, who was naturally suspicious of the foreigner.

“A letter for you.” David dropped it on the small table next to her, then sat down in the chair opposite. The patio—really an extension of the main house—was where she spent most of her time when David was working. Her previously pale skin had turned darker in the sun, and David seemed to like how she looked, especially when he got to count all of her freckles.

Counting freckles was their new euphemism. On the boat, they had said they needed to rig the mainsail; when they first arrived in India, they frequently found themselves having to retire to adjust Charlotte’s sari.

She got tired of saying the words “making love,” since she seemed to be saying it a tremendous amount.

Charlotte picked the letter up, and smiled when she recognized Anne’s
handwriting. She slit it open with the end of her teaspoon and shook out the pages.

Her smile broadened as she read. “Listen to this: Anne’s brother, Charles, somehow accidentally compromised Lady Radnor, so now they’ve had to get married.”

“They deserve each other,” David commented dryly.

“And Anne writes that she and Mr. Smeldley have discovered they really do share an interest in art, only Anne then adds that I shouldn’t read anything into it, since she and the gentleman are just exploring the subject together.”

“In other words, she has questions?” David shook his head. “We know where that ends up.”

“Hush, you. She also writes that Mr. Goddard found someone to marry him, so she won’t have to endure his attentions any longer. Goodness, I didn’t know he had fastened on her!”

“Good thing you didn’t know, or you would have insisted we return to England to stop it.”

“You’re right. That’s probably why she didn’t tell me about it.” And Emma had asked Anne to continue helping write the column, which sounded like great fun. But she didn’t want David to start thinking about what kind of trouble that could lead to.

Anne had said yes, but only if Charlotte helped when she returned to London for her brother’s wedding. But she wouldn’t tell David anything about that. If she ran into trouble, she’d just ask Christian. Because if she could write a column on fashion, so could he.

“Does she say if she is coming to visit?”

“She writes that she—let’s see, she says she is asking her mother about it every day, but that since Charles did not get his heiress, her mother is putting more pressure on her to marry someone wealthy.” Charlotte put the letter down in her lap. “Poor Anne. Her mother won’t stop until she gets her daughter married.”

David got up from his chair and walked the short distance to her. He leaned down and cradled her face in his hands. “Marriage isn’t such an awful thing, if you marry the right person.”

“And ask the right questions,” Charlotte added.

“Speaking of which, I do believe you have another freckle. Possibly two. Shall we
go count them?” he asked with a wicked grin on his face.

Charlotte felt the stirrings of desire course through her. “That is one question that will never be satisfied.” She got up out of her chair and wrapped her arms around him.

His hands rested at her waist, and his fingers crept up to just under where her sari wrapped around her bosom. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Have I answered?”

He laughed, and swung her up into his arms, carrying her into the house, into the bedroom, and into his love.

Welcome to Loveswept!

The holidays are approaching and I’ve so many things to do, don’t you? So why is it
all
I want to do is cuddle up on the couch with a good book? I’ll tell you why, there are so many amazing
Loveswept
stories on sale this month that all you’ll want to do is read too!! For starters,
LOVING THE EARL
(11/11) by Sharon Cullen features our hero’s sister from
THE NOTORIOUS LADY ANNE
(2/11), and OMG ladies, this book is for you! Sharon writes with wit and steam a combination that keeps me reading all night long. Double your historical delight with Samantha Kane’s finale in
The Saint’s Devils
,
DEVIL IN MY ARMS
(11/26) – its Hil’s story and what a match he’s made. Then,
Loveswept
debut, Serena Bell releases,
YOURS TO KEEP
(11/11), a captivating story of a woman living on the edge—and the man who’s destined to love her (
sigh
).

And there’s more!

Ruthie Knox releases a series of short stories,
Roman Holiday
. Over the next weeks look for each installment:
CHAINED
(11/12) - book one launches the series; followed by,
HITCHED
(11/19); then,
BLINDSIDED
(11/26), plus books four and five are right around the corner, ten books in all!!

And, you can’t miss these classics:

Fran Baker’s,
THE WIDOW AND THE WILDCATTER
, the captivating story of a woman haunted by the ghosts of the past, and a daredevil who promises a future filled with love; Sandra Chastain’s,
REBEL IN SILK
, about an unconventional beauty who refuses to back down from a challenge—or a handsome loner with a taste for trouble; and Sandra’s classics continue with,
TOO HOT TO HANDLE
, and,
THE SILVER BULLET AFFAIR
. Look for favorite
Loveswept
author Iris Johansen and her re-release of,
STAR-SPANGLED BRIDE
. Readers have continued to adore Ruth Owen’s
Loveswepts
including,
SORCERER
, a sexy tale of an emotionally guarded computer whiz and the princess who makes virtual reality come to vivid life. And, to wrap up the month Jean Stone’s,
BIRTHDAY GIRL
, and Connie Brockway’s,
AS YOU DESIRE
, will keep you toasty on those cold winter nights.

Holiday lovers won’t want to skip these contemporary reissues,
ROOM AT THE INN
by Ruthie Knox, and Molly O’Keefe’s,
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS
, guaranteed to put you in the holiday spirit.

New this winter is,
HEATING UP THE HOLIDAY’S
, a fabulous anthology that takes you through the seasons:
New York Times
bestselling author, Lisa Renee Jones, leads the lineup with,
PLAY WITH ME
, a Thanksgiving romance;
SNOWFALL
, by Mary Ann Rivers, will warm you up for Christmas; and knock off your New Years with,
MIDIGHT AFFAIR
, by Serena Bell – love could not be any more special!

Be swept away with
Loveswept
, ’tis the season!

Happy Holidays –

Gina Wachtel

Associate Publisher