An Heir of Deception (44 page)

“Just that what?” he prompted.

“She always preferred you. The minute she met you, you were all she thought about. It was as if I was no longer as important to her. All our lives, it was just the two of us, and then she met you.”

Jealousy. All this time her sister had been jealous of him and he hadn’t known it, hadn’t once guessed the truth. “Catherine, she loves you. I could never, nor would I ever want to change that.”

A laugh that sounded more like a sob escaped her lips. “I know that. I knew I’d made a big mistake the day of the wedding but by then it was too late. I tried to find her and tell her she had nothing to fear. But she had already gone. I never meant for her to go. I don’t even know I actually wanted to prevent her from marrying you forever. I thought the letter would just give me more time with her before you married her and moved away.”

Alex found the whole thing hard to fathom. Could not believe Catherine would have done such a thing. And even worse, he had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he’d been the cause.

“Pl-please don’t hate me,” she begged with big, sorrowful eyes. “I know I deserve it, but I don’t think I could bear it if you hated me.”

Only a man with a heart of stone and ice running through his veins would not be moved by her entreaty. And he wanted to be angry at her for she deserved it more than his wife. But he’d spent five years with bitterness and anger flowing more easily through him than the blood in his veins. He was tired of being angry. More than anything, all he wanted to do was to enjoy his life with Charlotte and their son—and any more children they’d be blessed with.

He sighed heavily and reached for her, pulling her into his arms. Her body trembled as she laid her cheek on his chest and her arms circled his torso.

“As much as I hate what you did, I could never hate you, Catherine. You were young and scared of losing her. That I understand for I’ve experienced it a time or two myself.”

A sob broke from her lips. It was quickly followed by a hiccup. Alex’s mouth curved up at one end.

“Does that mean you have forgiven her?” she asked, looking up at him.

Her question was so unexpected, Alex took a moment to respond. Had he forgiven Charlotte? If anyone had asked him the question the week before, his answer would have been an unequivocal yes. After all, they’d been living as man and wife in the truest sense.

But as he had watched her crumple before him a short time ago, watched as she’d experienced the same sense of betrayal he himself had felt, he realized he hadn’t—not fully. It had only been when he’d heard Miss Foster explain why she’d stayed away, had never told her nieces who she was that he truly understood what Charlotte must have been going through when faced with the threat of exposure.

Her aunt had never come forward to claim them, and selfish bastard that he was, he thanked God she hadn’t. He could never fault the woman for the sacrifice she’d made that had brought Charlotte into his life.

Ironically, Charlotte had been forced to make a similar choice and she, like her aunt, had chosen to sacrifice her happiness to spare those she loved pain.

“Yes, I have forgiven her,” he replied softly, knowing with all certainty he truly had. “She was young and scared just as you were.”

Catherine looked relieved. A moment later, she frowned. “I don’t think Charlotte will ever forgive me.”

“She will in time.”

She drew herself from his arms and took a step back, her eyes haunted. “I don’t know. What I did has cost you both so much.”

“But we’ve been given another chance and our love is stronger for what we’ve gone through.”

Tears filled Catherine’s eyes. For several seconds she merely stared at him, a myriad of emotions flitting across her face. When she spoke, her voice was choked. “Lottie could not have chosen a better man. I envy her that.”

“I was wrong,” Charlotte blurted the moment Alex stepped into her bed chamber.

Her statement pulled him up short. He halted and angled his head quizzically. “Wrong about what?”

“I should not have left. When I received that letter, I should have come directly to you.” And she would always regret that she hadn’t.

“I have forgiven you that,” he assured her.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t love you enough to tell you the truth. I don’t want you to ever think that. The truth is, I didn’t believe you could ever love me enough for the truth not to matter. The way I felt about myself back then, where I stood in the eyes of my brothers, in the eyes of Society, I just couldn’t believe I was worthy of your love.”

He strode to her where she sat on the edge of the bed, came down beside her and pulled her into his arms in one smooth motion.

“How could I not love you? You were everything I ever wanted in a woman, a wife, a lover and the future mother of my children. When I proposed to you, I had no title and earned a living dabbling in trade. I was the fortunate one.”

Charlotte’s heart swelled three sizes too big for her chest as she pressed her cheek against the wide breadth of his shoulder. The scent of his Aleppo soap assailed her nostrils and she breathed it in deeply.

“I too wish you had come to me but I understand why you did what you did.”

She laid her soft hand against his bristled jaw. “Do you really?”

Alex brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it gently. He then moved to her lips, taking her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss. His tongue swept her mouth and he probed, licked and sucked. When he had completely mastered her and she was returning his kiss with hungry abandon, already wet and aroused, he pressed one hard kiss to her lips before lifting his head.

“I do.” He spoke in a voice husky with desire.

In looking into his gray eyes and hearing the sincerity in his voice, she knew he meant it.

“I don’t want to keep looking back at what I—we lost. I’d much rather us live in the present and look forward to what’s ahead. I have you and I have my son. That’s all I can ask for right now.”

Charlotte took his large hand and laid it on her stomach. “And our baby.”

Alex went stiff, his eyes instantly widening in shock. He swallowed and stared down at his hand. “You are with child?”

“Yes. I know you said that you didn’t—”

“No,” he said sharply, halting her before she could finish. “So many of the things I said to you, I said out of pain and anger. But I never truly meant them—not in my heart.”

Charlotte cupped his face in her hands. “Oh Alex, I do love you.”

Taking one of her hands in his, he placed a tender kiss on the center of her palm. “I love you. Now, I want to see.”

“See what?” Charlotte asked with a laugh.

“Remove your dress. I want to see where my child will grow.”

“Is that truly the only reason you want me to remove my dress?” she teased.

“Of course. What else could I possibly want with my beautiful, naked wife?” he asked, arching one brow. “But your pregnancy does explain things.”

“Really? Pray, what would that be?”

“Why you refused to rise until I left the room. Or why you suddenly weren’t in the mood to make love in the mornings but by noon, you were rubbing up against me like a cat in heat.”

A blush suffused her cheeks. “I am so happy I’ll be sharing this and all future pregnancies with you.”

“Yes, and I want a houseful of children with you as I’ve always done. When I said otherwise, I did so out of spite.”

“In my heart, I believe I knew that.”

“But in hurting you, I merely succeeded in hurting myself,” he said solemnly.

“I think I knew that too,” she replied with equal solemnity.

“Good,” he grunted. “Now remove your dress.” His gaze raked over her, already anticipating getting her naked and under him.

Her eyes clouded with desire. “I shall need some help. The buttons…” She gestured to the back of her gown, now all coquettish helplessness.

Alex had her out of her clothes—stripped naked—in less than thirty seconds and out of his own in the ten following.

The only evidence of her pregnancy was the additional fullness of her breasts, and pressing her down onto the bed, Alex made sure he paid special attention to them, circling her nipple with his index finger until it stiffened into a hard nub before drawing it slowly between his lips and sucking.

Charlotte arched beneath him, causing him to groan and smile around her nipple. He loved that he could so easily bring her to this state. Levering himself up onto his elbows, he stared at the flatness of her belly. His child grew there, he mused in wonderment. He covered her warm, pink skin with his hand.

“Mine.”

“Yours.” She regarded him through half-closed eyes, tilting her hips to encourage his hand to venture lower.

Alex needed no further encouragement, his fingers finding her wet and welcoming. Her legs fell open to his touch as he tested her readiness.

She was ready. And hot.

He was inside her within seconds and groaned at the snug, wet heat. Somewhere in the back of Alex’s mind, he knew he should take it slow given her condition. But being inside her felt too good, too right. So while his mind told him to be gentle with her, his body urged him to take her hard and fast. His body won.

And Charlotte wasn’t content to merely be on the receiving end of his hard thrusts and deep strokes. No, she gave fully in return, her hips thrusting back with just as much rigor to meet his thrusts dead-on.

The pressure in his cock grew and the pleasure became nigh on intolerable until she shuddered in release beneath him, her sex pulsating around his. An orgasm wracked his body with an intensity that wiped his mind blank of everything but sensation.

The next thing he knew, he was on his back trying to catch his breath. God, had he actually passed out?

“I love you.”

Alex turned his head at the throaty declaration. She looked well-loved and sated. Naked and flushed, just the way he liked her—and on her back.

“Not nearly as much as I love you,” he replied pulling her to him for a soft, lingering kiss.

Charlotte could have lain like this with him forever, aglow in the aftermath of their exquisite lovemaking. She was certain it couldn’t get better than this.

“Catherine is hurting.”

Why must he bring that up now? “She hurt me,” Charlotte countered.

“She deeply regrets what she did.”

“How quickly you are able to forgive her,” she groused, only slightly aggravated by the fact.

“That’s because I’m not in love with her. Had I felt like she’d ripped my heart from my chest and left me a broken man, believe me I wouldn’t be so kind.” He tweaked her nipple with his thumb.

She gave a low moan. The surge of heat between her legs was positively shameless. Had he not just pleasured her unconscious?

“You know I cannot remain upset with her forever. Though I can’t find it in my heart to forgive her just yet. What she did wa-was so very wrong. I never imagined she’d be capable of something like that.”

“I don’t imagine she did either,” he said, stroking the under curve of her breast.

It was damnably difficult to think when he insisted on touching her like that. Still she angled toward him in hopes of encouraging him more.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Alex sat in the drawing room of his parents’ cottage, River Court, and cursed the day he’d listened to his mother. When his father had summoned him, Alex had remembered the promise he’d made to his mother. And since, according to Charlotte, his mother’s attitude toward her was ten degrees warmer than civility, he’d acquiesced without a fuss.

But she’d assured him she would be in residence when he arrived. That had been a barefaced lie. The duke was his only parent in attendance. Alex had almost climbed back into the carriage once he realized there’d be no buffer between them as there’d always been in the past.

It had been the look in the duke’s eyes that had stopped him. For the first time in his memory, the duke hadn’t looked as if he couldn’t wait to see the back of him. His neutral expression may very well have been taken for unadulterated giddiness so severe was it usually.