A Properly Conducted Sham (Most Imprudent Matches #5)

Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

BENNET HALL, SURREY - OCTOBER 24, 1816

CHARLOTTE

I laid, still and staring, in Lee’s arms that night. My mind refused to quiet until long after he came to bed.

When the clock finally struck a nearly acceptable hour, I rose, leaving my husband to his much-needed rest.

The only occupant of the breakfast room was Lady Celine. She swallowed a bite of toast with a letter in her hand.

“Oh, good morning,” she trilled.

“Good morning. I trust you slept well?”

“Quite. Are you recovered?”

“Yes, quite,” I lied.

“Oh, good,” she replied. Celine studied me with more interest than my breakfast selection warranted, and it left me feeling disquieted.

“I was wondering…” she started, trailing off.

“Yes?” I asked as I sat down with a slice of pound cake.

“If I remember correctly, you are fond of Mr. Wesley Parker?” Her voice ticked up at the end, marking it as a question. But I had no doubt it was a statement.

“We’ve parted ways,” I replied flatly.

“Yes. Of course. It’s just… we suspect he may have been involved in my late husband’s murder.”

I was much too tired to feign shock at this intelligence. “As I said, I no longer have contact with Mr. Parker.”

“Certainly.” Celine was not content though. “But you, perhaps, know how to locate him. Where he might go.”

The fictitious headache from yesterday threatened to become factual today. “I’m certain I have no idea.”

“Surely you could draw him out with a bit of effort,” she insisted.

A dull throb began to form behind my eye.

“Truly, I have no idea where he might have gone or how to draw him out.” I replied through a thready throat. It had taken weeks for me to find him when he was only hiding from me—did she suppose me a magician?

I heard him before I saw him—my husband. He was graceful for a man of his size, but he was still large and the floor sometimes protested his presence.

“Celine,” he snapped from behind me.

She straightened and turned back to her letter with feigned interest.

My interest, however, was peaked. I wasn’t entirely certain my husband had ever taken that tone, not that I could recall anyway. He settled in the seat beside me, but his gaze was still directed at our guest, sharp below a furrowed brow.

He stared her down for another moment before turning to me. Bright navy eyes traced my form, surveying me with concern.

Mr. Hart arrived before I could question it, and we turned to more perfunctory breakfast conversation.

After we broke our fast, Celine’s husband all but dragged her to the carriage.

“What on earth was that about?” I asked Lee from where we stood waving them off in the doorway.

“No idea,” he replied, something off in his tone. “I need to pick up some things in the village. You should rest. I know you slept poorly last night.” He tucked a loose curl behind my ear.

I nodded, feeling the exhaustion settle in. Whatever this morning was, whatever he had discussed with the pair, my husband wasn’t outwardly angry with me.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you.” Lee caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipped my head back for a gentle kiss that had my heart melting. I loved our kisses—the passionate ones, the tender ones, but this one, this was… habitual. As though it was a mere fact that he could not go about his day without it. My eyes filled with tears—the babe had turned me into a fusspot. I dipped my gaze to the ground, refusing to worry him over my nonsense.

After a brief respite, I woke feeling refreshed enough to take on the onerous task of correspondence. In the months since I’d arrived, I had received five letters. One reply from Lady Juliet with a list of accoucheurs and wet nurses she had considered who might be available to assist me. Two responses from those physicians—one quite rude and one available, for the right price. And a single letter from a wet nurse, and not one of the ones I had written to. And the other one… the one turned to ash in my fireplace.

I wrote to accept the accoucheur, offering an obscene sum in order to cut down on the back and forth.

Mrs. Hyde, the wet nurse, had heard of my search and reached out to me proactively. It didn’t seem the way of things, but then I’d never hired a nurse before. A few women in the village were available who might suit, but I hadn’t the fortitude to risk a face-to-face rejection, so I wrote to accept her as well with an equally obscene sum.

I handed off the letters to Crawford to be sent express. He left with only the requisite muttering about the cost. It took all my restraint to nod solemnly instead of suggesting the termination of a butler to offset the costs of postage. Much as he was an irritating little man, I’d grown to enjoy the amusement provided by his complaints.

Task completed, I was left feeling aimless. I missed my husband—the harvest season had only recently wrapped and, if I was honest, I had been avoiding the rumors, and avoiding him by extension.

Without any particular destination in mind, I decided to enjoy one of the last fine days we might see before winter. The sun was warm and bright against my face as I wandered past the lake and to my favorite bench. Most of the flowers had ceased to bloom, leaving only the goldenrod.

The babe alternated kicking the various vital organs he or she shared a home with as I sat down, a hand pressed on my lower back.

Bees worked, busily gathering the pollen that was left among the remaining flowers. A bird I couldn’t see chirped a happy song somewhere overhead.

The sun beat down on me for some time before I heard the sound of hoofbeats signaling Lee’s return. He tossed the reins to a stable hand, then turned to his observatory, a parcel in hand, without noticing me between the blooms.

I loved the way he moved, confident and certain with his long, strong limbs. At some point, he’d abandoned the hat he usually wore to the village, allowing the sun to caress his face.

I rose, slower than I would have liked because absolutely every movement took too long at present, to follow him down to the observatory.

He hadn’t made the effort to close the door by the time I arrived, but he had stripped off his coat and was fussing with a book I didn’t recognize. It was always a bit messy here, but it was an ordered chaos, and I enjoyed watching him struggle to find a place for his new purchase while I leaned against the doorframe.

He startled upon finally glancing up, his hand coming to his chest. “Charlotte!”

I bit back a grin. “Enjoyable trip?”

“Yes, very.” His gaze flicked up and down my form. “You seem refreshed.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Lee shifted uneasily on his heels, one hand tapping the desk in front of him.

“ You seem unsettled,” I added.

He chuckled, seemingly to himself, as a hand rose to scratch the back of his neck. “It has come to my attention that I’ve been remiss in my duties as a husband.”

“On that, I cannot agree.”

Graceful hands grabbed a file off the desk as he rounded it in two easy steps. “I have, though,” he said, stepping in front of me and pressing the file into my hand.

“What is this?”

I smiled at the sight of his eye roll. “Open it.”

“You’re stealing the worst of my habits, sir.”

“Charlotte…” His free hand cupped my cheek, fingers wrapping around my neck. “Do as you’re told for once.”

I raised a challenging brow but flipped open the file. Inside, I found pages upon pages of sheet music—for both the harp and piano.

My heart tripped. A gift. My husband brought me a gift. I couldn’t recall the last time I had received a gift—it wouldn’t have been appropriate from Wesley, and Ralph—never. But Lee, the man who was supposed to be my husband in name only…

“Lee…” I choked out in a hoarse whisper. “This is too much.”

“‘On that, I cannot agree,’” he quoted in a teasing tone and dropped a kiss to the crown of my head. The gesture was so sweet, so affectionate, so unassuming. It overwhelmed me.

With my free hand, I tugged on the ends of his cravat and pulled his lips down to mine—my ankles were far too swollen for tip toes. He allowed one kiss, two, before he drew back when I tried to deepen it.

“You’re welcome. But that wasn’t why I brought it.”

“I know…” When my hand on his chest gave a nudge, he stepped back, following my guidance willingly, eagerly—too strong for me to have forced him. His thighs—his tight, muscular thighs—hit the back of the desk, and he stumbled, falling half atop it.

“Charlotte… What do you want?”

“For you to do as you’re told for once.”

I pulled him back down by a shoulder to crush his lips onto mine. It took a moment for his smile to melt into our kiss, but eventually he obeyed with a hot arm banding about my waist, supporting me. His other hand curved around my neck.

When that hand slipped down to trace the line of my collarbone, I pulled back.

“Stop trying to distract me.”

“Distract you from what?” he asked, genuine confusion in the divot between his brows.

I swallowed, assessing myself one last time. My heart was pounding, but not in distress. Butterflies danced in my belly—happily. My limbs were jittery, nervous, but not unpleasantly so. And my center ached in the best possible way. “May I…I wish to try something.”

His eyes darted between my own, searching. “Anything.” He broke off, clearing his throat. “Anything.”

Between one breath and the next, without giving myself another second for a volte-face, I knelt before him. In my head, it was an elegant, dainty maneuver. Of course, I hadn’t accounted for my shifting weight, and I nearly collapsed, face-first, into his lap. Praying he would allow it to pass without commentary, I moved my hands to the falls of his breeches, his member pressed against them in interest..

“Charlotte?” he choked, reaching down to grab my hands. “I didn’t—that’s not—I—” His eyes slipped shut with a deep inhale. After the exhale, dark eyes fluttered open again. A pink tongue darted out before he attempted speech. “You want this?”

I nodded, my eyes never leaving his. “I do.” And I did. It was the strangest thing, but this moment felt like nothing I had ever experienced. There was no tawdry tightness in my spine, no revulsion in my belly. Nothing but anticipation and want .

“Hell.” He cupped my cheeks with both hands. “Stop at any moment, for any reason. Promise?”

“I will,” I vowed.

“I just—this isn’t—it’s not about the music?”

I knew only one response would put him at ease. I rolled my eyes.

His head hinged back on a breathless laugh as I started working the buttons. “Fuck… I lo—just—not here.” He hauled me up by the arms.

“What?”

“Not the floor.”

“But—”

Lee ignored my words as he helped me to my feet, then guiding me to the settee that lined the wall. “Sit.”

While I was annoyed with the questioning and the change of venue, my knees were grateful and I plopped onto the settee. If I was honest, the angle was better too.

“Any other demands?” I asked, entirely rhetorically, as I again reached for the buttons of his fall flap. The familiar hardness pushed against the fabric as I worked.

“None at all.” He swallowed, harsh in the stillness of the observatory. “I am yours to command.”