Laurie Benson - One Week To Wed

Her head snapped to the window and her eyes widened at the sight of raindrops sliding down the glass panes. She looked at him and had the ridiculous urge to reassure him that she had nothing to do with the rain.

‘My lady?’ The footman’s voice broke the spell from where he stood beside them. ‘What would you have me do?’

‘Lady Charlotte, the roads have not dried out and we don’t know if they are even passable. I think you are forced to remain a bit longer and, since our hosts are nowhere to be found this morning, that leaves it to me to convince you of the sensible course of action.’

That was the longest thing he had ever said to her. ‘Why do you...?’

‘I would not be able to live with myself if any harm came to you because you fled to prove you have no desire to be in my presence.’

‘I’m not trying to prove anything.’

‘Then you are simply willing to risk injury to get away from me.’

‘Yes. No. I mean...’

His eyebrows flew up and he appeared amused rather than insulted. She really needed to stop talking. She was always completely composed. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was coming down with some unknown illness? That had to be it. She rubbed her brow again to casually see if she had a fever. Thankfully, she didn’t appear overly warm.

She motioned with her head for him to follow her as she walked away from the footman back into the breakfast room. When they were at a far enough distance, she stopped and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I truly am not a widow in search of a husband. I will not be marrying again. I am comfortable in my situation and regardless of what our friends, or rather my friend, might believe, being in my presence will not endanger your bachelorhood.’

He rubbed his lips together and crossed his arms. ‘In the event of your previous statements being unclear, you’re telling me you haven’t arranged to sneak into my bedchamber while I am here and force us into a compromising situation?’

The nerve of the man! ‘Of course not!’ she whispered back sharply. ‘I am not that kind of widow, my lord.’

There was a quirk to his lips, and she realised he had been teasing her. She couldn’t help but smile.

He leaned forward again. ‘Thank you for reassuring me you have not taken part in hatching a plan to trap me into marriage.’

‘I assure you, Lord Andrew, I have no desire to marry you or any other man. Or take part in any type of scandalous activity.’

‘I’m relieved to hear it. We are of a like mind. Our firm understanding of the situation makes this a more relaxing experience for both of us.’ For the first time he smiled, making him appear quite handsome. His eyes held hers once more before he turned to the footman, who Charlotte had forgotten all about. ‘Her ladyship will not be needing her carriage. She will be remaining at Knightly Hall a while longer until the weather improves.’

‘Very good, my lord,’ the footman replied with a tip of his head. And before either could protest, the man took a few steps back and closed the door on them, once more leaving them alone.

‘I do believe your friend has given her staff specific instructions this morning that we are not to be disturbed.’

‘I do believe you might be correct in your assumption. I am truly sorry.’

Stretching out his arm, he motioned for them to return to the table. ‘It will not be the first time I have been a target because of my bachelor status.’

‘There are those who might see our presence in this room together as rather scandalous,’ she replied, taking her seat.

He paused before sitting down. ‘Do you believe your friend will make it known in the village we spent time alone like this?’

‘Heavens, no.’

The brief sense of panic that flashed in his eyes cleared and he sat down. ‘That’s reassuring to hear, because if there were to be a scandal about me, I would hope it would be a bit more exciting than just taking breakfast alone with you.’ Lord Andrew’s gaze dropped to her mouth.

His teasing made her smile. ‘Are you referring to other closed-door escapades?’

‘Well, considering the conditions outside, I suppose one would be forced to remain inside behind closed doors...unless one was eager to get wet...outside.’ There was a wicked glint in his eye and a slight curve to his mouth. He arched his brow, silently challenging her to respond. There was no lecherous leer to his lips—no intimidation with the posture of his impressive form. He appeared to be a man who enjoyed playful conversation.

‘I’ve found I prefer a bit of solitude behind closed doors.’

‘Because you simply haven’t found the right company, my lady,’ he said with a knowing smile, making her grin.

‘And do you find many people whose company you enjoy, my lord?’

‘Surprisingly, not many. I am rather discerning, if you must know. And I much prefer the company of a single companion to many.’ His gaze seemed to penetrate her. ‘There is something about devoting your complete attention to one person that I find utterly satisfying.’

Charlotte had not thought about having sex in years. That part of her life was over...and yet suddenly she was imagining what this man’s touch would feel like and what it would be like to be the focus of his attentive ministrations. ‘Surely your attention wavers a bit.’

Slowly, he shook his head, all the while never breaking their gaze. ‘If we are playing in hypotheticals and you are the company I am with, I can assure you that you would have my complete undivided attention. And I would be most eager to engage in any activity of your choosing. Especially if it did involve getting wet.’

It was becoming difficult to take a deep breath. She must have tied her stays too tight this morning. She should end this conversation now. It was beyond improper and she had had no experience in discourse such as this even while she had been married. But his playful safe smile drew her back. ‘What a gallant companion you would be,’ she replied, ‘but I have no wish to cause you any hardship against your will.’

His lips twitched with amusement. ‘I would gladly suffer through any hardship for you, my lady. I believe the experience would be most fulfilling.’

The imagine of him filling her made her intimate places tingle. This man was the devil—but she didn’t want it to end. She glanced out of the window and gave a dramatic sigh. ‘I imagine getting wet outside would be such an inconvenience...hypothetically speaking.’

‘If the gardener was present, I would agree.’

She let out a low laugh and pressed her fingertips to her lips to hold in the rest. The corners of his eyes creased as he took a sip from his cup and turned to the window. It was raining harder now, obscuring the view of the gardens.

A flush of heat rose up her neck and she stared down at her empty cup.

‘Do not fear I will try to coax you out into the rain, Lady Charlotte. I know your comments were made in jest.’

Did that mean he didn’t want to get her wet outside? Why did that notion leave her feeling dispirited? She had never considered having sex outside her bedchamber—at least not before he mentioned it. And if people did have sex outside, where would they have it? Were people really so inclined...not that she was...or ever would be...or would ever be in a position to engage in such an activity...but still, where would one do something like that? She hadn’t thought about sex in years. Now suddenly she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

‘Are you certain you are not hungry?’ he asked, cutting into his bacon, apparently unaffected by their conversation. ‘It really is quite good.’

She leaned towards his plate, surveying the crispy pieces. She needed to focus on food, not sex. ‘Were they all that well done or just those you have graciously taken?’