She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Gwen is Carding’s daughter. Since he’s not married, I’m certain you can deduce the nature of her association to him.”
Hugh leaned back, noting the sudden weariness that weighted Charlotte’s slender frame. “He left her with you?”
“Good heavens, no,” she said, with a bitter laugh. “That man cared nothing for his own father. Think he would care for a bastard? It was Glenmoore who asked me to look after Gwen. He discovered her existence when she was a child, and started a small stipend for her mother. But the mother passed on, and there was no one to care for Gwen. Carding refused to do anything for her, so Glenmoore brought her here. He wanted a grandchild desperately, and Gwen is such a dear. One cannot help but adore her.”
“And the marriage?”
“It was the only way Glenmoore could ensure Gwen’s future. He could leave me a trust for Gwen, and grant me the rights to claim it, should Carding prove to be a problem.”
“A pitiable trust fund,” Hugh muttered. “This place is a disgrace.”
Charlotte reached over and claimed his hand, jolting him with a spark of sensual awareness. “Glenmoore was afraid to bequeath too large a trust. Since the marriage was never consummated, as Carding well knows, the duke wanted to give as little provocation as possible for a contest.”
She stood and began to pace. “No one can discover who the duchess is, Hugh. We cannot have outsiders questioning who Gwen is. Those were Carding’s only requirements in allowing us the use of this house.”
“What future does this place hold for her?” he asked, standing to face her. “What kind of life is this?”
“None. Which is why Glenmoore left me the map.”
“Bloody hell, Charlotte!” Hugh scrubbed a hand over his face. “’Tis ridiculous to pin all your hopes on that blasted map. Pirate’s treasure and other such nonsense . . . You shall rot out here. And Gwen, as well.”
“And you would take us in?” she challenged, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparked with anger. “A mistress with a minor ward and entourage of disabled servants? Gwen would be thoroughly ruined. Or do you intend to hide us away? Perhaps the accommodations would be superior, but we would still be trapped, our futures dependent on the whim of a rake’s temporary infatuation.”
His hands clenched into fists. Would no one ever trust him to be responsible? “Tell me, Charlotte, what am I to you?”
She snorted. “A charming stranger. A man too devilishly handsome for his own good. An amorous libertine who shows flashes of kindness that startle me.”
Hugh turned away and moved toward the door. He’d heard enough.
“What am I to you?” she called after him.
Pausing on the threshold, he turned back. “A beautiful woman whose sensuality calls to me. A nurse, a guardian, a champion for those in your care. A pragmatist who will do anything to survive, a trait I appreciate, since I lack it myself. An honest individual who said she admired me, who believed, if only for a moment, that I am capable of doing whatever needs to be done.”
“You are.”
“Only when it relates to you.”
Charlotte’s lower lip quivered, her fingers picking restlessly at her skirts.
He took a deep breath and said, “I’ve acted out of character ever since I stepped foot in this monstrosity of a house, and since I didn’t much care for my character before, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I rather like myself better when I’m with you. I like that I admire things about you other than your physical attributes, though I admit to spending a great deal of the last twenty-four hours admiring those.” He sketched a bow, then turned again and left the room.
“Hugh, wait!” Charlotte hurried after him.
“Why?” he asked over his shoulder. “I understand.”
“But you don’t.”
Hugh stopped but didn’t turn around. She circled him, her lush floral scent enveloping his senses.
She tilted her head back to look at him. “If it were just you and I, and no one else, I would go with you. I would leave everything behind to be with you, for however long you would have me.”
“But it isn’t that way.”
“No.” Her hand reached for his, just as she’d often done since he met her. “And I am dreadfully sorry it isn’t. You must realize, too many people depend on me to simply hand over everything and hope for the best.”
His mind shifting industriously, Hugh reasoned out a way to prove he was someone on whom she could rely. “You want to find that treasure, and I can assist you. But you will have to trust me.”
Her eyes widened, her wariness a palpable thing.
“I can take you to Lord Merrick,” he continued, hoping to allay her refusal. “His father-in-law is Jack Lambert. If anyone could decipher that map, Merrick could, or at the very least he would know someone who could.”
Charlotte swallowed hard.
Rushing ahead, he said, “Both my sister and Lord Merrick have holdings in Derbyshire. That was my destination before fate led me here.” He brushed his fingertips across her lips. “You shall have to travel by ship eventually. It would relieve me greatly to know you traveled on a Lambert vessel, with proper escort and protection. I can make arrangements for you.”
“You would do that?”
He smiled at the softening he saw in her gaze. “Only one person in my life has ever relied on me for anything—my sister, Julienne—and I’m ashamed to admit I failed her. Miserably. You would be doing me a great honor if you would rely on me and give me the chance to redeem myself. You’ve carried your burdens for a long time. Why not pass the weight to me for a while?”
“From the moment you arrived, my burdens have felt lighter, even if in truth nothing has changed.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I would appreciate your intimate companionship for the duration of our association, but only if you wish it. If you don’t, I still promise to assist you in whatever way I can. This is not about sex, Charlotte. ’Tis important to me that you understand my motives.”
Resting her head against his chest, she laughed. “I understand, Hugh. And continuing our association would please me as well. It’s shameful, really. I’ve been nothing but a wanton since you arrived.”
“Only when you’re not rescuing the entire population of Derbyshire misfits,” he said dryly.
“’Ere now!” Artemis complained, stepping out of the study. “We don’t take kindly to that nonsense ’round ’ere!”
Hugh attempted to step away from Charlotte, but she held fast, and after a second he relaxed. Another second more, and he discovered he rather liked holding a female in a nonamorous position. It was soothing.
Looking over the pile of red curls, he locked his eyes with Artemis’s one, which had the gall to wink.
Hugh chuckled, realizing he just might like the butler a little after all.
Chapter Seven
“It hasn’t snowed in the last two days,” Charlotte said sadly, as she looked out the window. She’d come to love the sight of snow, since the fall of it meant Hugh would stay another day.
Glancing up from the journal, the object of her affection gifted her with a boyish smile. The effect of that smile was so powerful, her breath caught and her hand lifted to shelter her rapidly beating heart.
Hugh ran a careless hand through his golden hair. “I noticed that this morning.”
He was so achingly beautiful, she could hardly bear it. Thankfully he remained unaware of how he affected her. “If your carriage is repaired in time, perhaps it will be possible to set off tomorrow.”
“My thoughts were similar.” He closed the book and gestured for her to come closer.
The earl had been in residence for a fortnight, and so far his interest in her showed no signs of waning. He slept in her bed every night and spent every waking moment with her, maintaining his easy charm without any sign of boredom. If she moved to leave the room, he followed. If she wanted to take a nap, he went with her. For the first time in her life, the loneliness that was her constant companion was gone, replaced by the steadfast presence of the dashing Earl of Montrose.
“You seem nervous,” he noted.
“And this surprises you? I haven’t left the area in a very long time. My clothes are sadly out of date, and my social deportment is rusty.”
Hugh chuckled, and when she came close enough, he tugged her into his lap. “No one will pay any mind to those things. Your beauty is so blinding, it outshines everything else.”
“Perhaps you think so,” she muttered.
“I definitely think so,” he corrected, kissing the tip of her nose. “You have nothing to fear. The company we’ll keep are infamous for their eccentricities. My sister and Remington aren’t conventional by any means, and Merrick disappeared for years. To this day no one knows where he was. That sort of behavior is odd. My arriving with a gorgeous woman on my arm is positively commonplace, regardless of her attire.”
Charlotte looked away, stung by the knowledge that she was simply one of many. She’d known he would be a temporary pleasure when she met him. Why she’d allowed herself to care for him, she couldn’t say. But then, it was most likely inevitable. How could any woman deny him anything, including her heart?
“I have never taken a woman to meet my sister before,” he said softly, and when she turned to look at him, it was clear he knew her thoughts. His dark eyes studied her face, a frown gathering between his brows.
To divert him from his intense perusal, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close. “Thank you for helping me, Hugh. I cannot begin to tell you what it means to me.”
“No more, I imagine, than what it means to me that you trust me to do so.” He tucked her against his chest and sighed. “Are you even a little excited to leave this place and mingle with the rest of the world?”
“Oh, I’m very excited. This will be Gwen’s first time away from the district, and I eagerly anticipate meeting Lucien Remington. I’ve heard some—”
She squealed as she was tackled to the settee.
Hugh loomed over her with narrowed gaze. “You’ve been trapped out here for three years, and the most excitement you can muster is for Lucien Remington?”
Charlotte made no attempt to squelch the thrill she felt at his possessiveness. She blinked innocently. “Well, he’s rather legendary among the demimonde. I met his mother once. A delightful woman. She—”
Lowering his head, Hugh bit her bottom lip.
“Ow!” she complained, pouting.
“He’s married. To my sister. Very happily, I should point out. It’s almost sickening the way they fawn over one another.”
She shrugged. “I can look.”
“No,” he said gruffly. “You cannot.”
“You’re jealous!” Giggling, she tugged his head down and kissed him. Against her thigh, she felt his cock swell. “You should know that women like to ogle handsome men. Usually with as much enthusiasm as men like to ogle attractive women.”
“My sister might not approve,” he said, against her lips.
“Oh, you see, women actually like it when the men they escort draw such avid attention. It makes us quite proud to possess something so desired.”
“Hmmm . . .” Hugh’s mouth twitched as he held back a smile. “I suppose I should round up some admirers. Perhaps then you’ll pay more attention to me than to Remington.”
Charlotte’s smile wavered. She almost didn’t want to leave the estate, preferring instead to remain trapped with Hugh, safe from the forces that would separate them.
“Ah, some women like it,” he noted perceptively, his hands brushing the hair away from her face. “But you are not one of them.”
The conversation was rapidly moving to areas best left unexplored. “You’re heavy,” she said, trying to create distance between them, even if it was only physical. It was a lie, of course. She relished the feel of his hard, powerful body stretched over hers. She loved how it made her feel cherished and cared for, instead of dominated.
“You bear my weight often. This is the first I’ve heard you complain.” His gaze burned her with its intensity. “Am I beginning to bore you, Charlotte?”
“No!” Her hands reached for his face. In the last fortnight, she’d learned many things about her lover, the most important being how deeply he feared being expendable. “Oh, Hugh, not that. Never that.”
“Never?” He brushed his mouth across hers.
Arching up into his weight, she pulled him close. “Take me to bed now.”
“Why?”
She offered a seductive smile. “You know why.”
“Yes.” He lifted away from her. “I know why.”
Charlotte watched him, confused, as he rose from the settee and moved to the window where she’d stood a moment ago.
“What do you think about when we’re making love?” he asked suddenly.
“What do I . . . ?” She shook her head and sat up. “I don’t think about anything.”
“Precisely.”
“What are you saying?”
“You use sex as a way to avoid your feelings.”
She was speechless for a moment, surprised by the accusation. “And you don’t?” she scoffed, rising to her feet.
“No rows,” came Gwen’s chastising voice from the doorway. She swept into the room with her customary enthusiasm. Dressed in sprigged muslin, with her long, dark hair tied at the nape, she appeared younger than her seventeen years. “We’ve been trapped together for days. ’Tis inevitable that we would become a tad testy with one another.”
“I’ve been here for years,” Charlotte retorted. “Montrose is the testy one. Perhaps his lordship is the one who is bored?”