An Imprudent Lady (6 page)

The next morning, Charlotte moved to the parlor as if in a dream. She’d felt strangely dissociated from reality since Carlisle had delivered the calling card.

Mr. Daniel Walsh.

She paused before the doorway, so nervous that she thought she’d faint. Was he here to rage at her further?

She’d been up all night reading his letters from over the years, and she knew she looked far from her best. She felt emotionally bruised and spent, but she didn’t care what had brought him. Even if he were to be hateful and cruel, she was thrilled that he was here, back in her life, for the rest of it if she could manage it. The battle for his feelings might seem insurmountable, but it would be worth it.

Daniel was worth it.

At her nod, Carlisle closed the door behind her and left them alone in the painfully bright, yellow drawing room.

If it were possible, Daniel looked even worse than she did. His hair was in as much disarray as the other evening and his jaw was covered with a dark gold smudge of new beard. His eyes were rimmed with red and deep shadows clung beneath. It didn’t appear he’d been sleeping much, either.

“Hello, Daniel,” she said quietly. Since he hadn’t retained his hat and gloves, it seemed he intended to stay longer than the few minutes of a formal courtesy call.

Manners dictated that he couldn’t sit until she did, but she was so disquieted by his presence and her fresh visit with the past that she couldn’t make herself take a seat.

“Charlotte.” He shifted his weight as if he meant to step toward her then stopped. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“What can I do for you?”

He ran a hand through his hair and her palm itched to follow. Instead, she tried to soothe it by rubbing absently at her skirt.

“I received a parcel last evening.”

She frowned. “A parcel?” So had she, but she doubted his was anything like the peek at the past hers had proven.

“Indeed,” he said. “From your brother.”

Her stomach bottomed. If Ollie had given over Daniel’s old letters to her keeping, had he also found the ones she’d written?

Oh, God. He had.

“These.” Daniel picked up a beribboned stack of papers, yellowed with age, which she had not noticed on the side table. “Do you recognize them?”

Charlotte felt a flash of heat, then cold, as shock rolled through her. Daniel studied her closely, waiting for something. She nodded but couldn’t think what to say.

“I read every single one of them last night. Twice.”

Absently, he ruffled the edge of the stack like one would a deck of playing cards. She trembled, waiting for his conclusion. Was he embarrassed by her youthful ardor? Disgusted by her desperation and pain when she had failed, over and over, to find him? He didn’t look it, he looked…strange. As if he were trying to contain strong emotion.

Then, decisively, he dropped the letters back onto the table and strode toward her.

“I owe you an apology, Charlotte. I accused you of not trying to contact me and, clearly, that’s not true. You tried to reach me through my father, then through any number of acquaintances, despite the damage that would have done to your reputation.”

As if she’d ever had a concern for her reputation. She would have gladly traded it for any word of Daniel.

“Those letters to Mr. Thornton, Charlotte. Is that the infamous Mr. Thornton from Bow Street?” He reached out and softly stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Did you hire that runner to find me?”

“I tried.”

“And no doubt would have succeeded had your sire not interceded.”

“I’m sorry.”

He frowned. “Don’t you ever…
ever
apologize to me, Charlotte. It is
I
who owe
you
the apology. I’m bound for an everlasting damnation for my accusations and ill thoughts.” He stroked down her cheek. “Can you ever forgive me, angel?”

A sob caught in her throat. “I have your letters now, too, Daniel.”

“Do you?” The thumb skimmed her lower lip, tempting her with the tiniest touch when she wanted so much more.

“The cache Ollie found must have contained them all, for he gave me yours last night as well.” She had a hard time focusing for the tears that pooled in her eyes and threatened to spill. “I didn’t know—”

“Shhh.” He pulled her into his arms, and she proceeded to fall apart.

When her sobs ceased, he led her to the sofa and sat at her side, his large, warm hands carefully cradling hers. “Charlotte. There’s something I need to know.”

“Yes?”

He swallowed and stared at their clasped hands. “Would you have married me? When you found out about the child, would you have been happy with me?”

“Daniel, I would have married you with or without the baby. You had only to ask.”

“Well, then.” He blinked like an owl then stood and patted his pockets absently. When he carefully knelt before her and reclaimed her hands, his eyes were clear and guileless, boring into hers with savage intensity. “Will you now, Charlotte? Will you marry me?”

She lost her breath.

“Marry me,” he implored. “I know that I may seem a stranger after so long, but I’m still the boy that you knew, Charlotte. I love you. Even more so now that I understand the tragedy of our youth and the amazing gift of a child that you have given me.”

“I don’t—”

“Give us a chance at the life that we should have had, Charlotte. My heart is yours—it always has been. Marry me, angel.”

She studied his earnest face, identified the emotions simmering below the surface and knew them for the truth. Before her was the only man in the world for her, and he was offering his heart and an opportunity to share his life.

There might be nearly twenty years of unknown between them, but they had the rest of their lives to discover it. Did she have the nerve to seize all that he offered?

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes?” It was telling that he was surprised by her response.

She nodded and lunged, wrapping her arms about his neck. He crushed her to him and kissed her desperately, as if he meant to consume her whole. His lips were hot and ravaged her while she simply forgot herself, lost in his arms.

“I can’t keep my hands from you,” he whispered and he reared back to look at his hand on her breast, fingers dark and bold against the pale muslin of her gown. Her nipple perked in anticipation and she watched, mesmerized, when he slowly pinched the peak. Heat pooled and her loins throbbed in response.

“I don’t want you to.”

A loud throat-clearing interrupted the interlude. Carlisle, apparently worried at the length of the visit behind closed doors, had worked up the courage to open the drawing room door and now looked into the room nervously.

With a wild grin, Daniel released her, jumped to his feet and greeted Carlisle with a forceful thump on the back. “Wish us well, chap. She’s just agreed to be my wife! Now, where’s the duke to endorse this union?”

A month later found Daniel ensconced in the warm intimacy of his carriage with his new wife and their daughter.

The havoc the two women had brought to his life both amazed and delighted him. At times he felt like a man immersed in sunlight after a lifetime of living in the dark. Oh, he made a show of being put out by all of the commotion, but secretly, he reveled in the attention, even if he still couldn’t use his front parlor or the dining room for the mess.

When Daniel helped Angelica alight from the carriage at their destination, he marveled at her composure. The discovery that her new brother-in-law was actually her father had apparently left her none the worse for wear. Daniel would have liked nothing more than to acknowledge her to the world, but the risk to Angelica’s reputation necessitated the secret be guarded closely. After discussing the matter at length, he and Charlotte had agreed that Angelica deserved the truth, but she should be protected at all costs. It was enough that he held the knowledge in his heart.

Angelica did not appear to be worried or apprehensive about this evening. Hell, he was more nervous than she.

He turned back to assist his wife, and Charlotte grinned down at him in the dim light. How could she find his discomfort amusing?

It wasn’t easy for a fellow with a newly discovered and grown daughter to escort her blithely to the hallowed halls of Almack’s, of all places. He wasn’t keen for her to find some chap to take her away before Daniel had a chance to get to know her properly. And the assembly tonight was designed for no other purpose than to facilitate matrimonial matches.

He offered his arm to Charlotte and watched as Angelica pranced gaily ahead. Why hadn’t he noticed before that his little girl had the same guinea-gold curls that he did? The realization warmed him.

Then he noticed several young dandies clearly ogling more than her artful coiffure. A warning glare prompted them to hastily turn their attention elsewhere. If Vinedale showed up with similar inclinations, Daniel would be hard-pressed not to soundly trounce him.

“Isn’t she too young for all of this?” he grumbled to his wife, not for the first time this evening.

She smiled serenely. “Of course not, my dear. She’s a year later than most.” She gave him that look. “As you well know.”

He frowned. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with keeping her home for another Season—or seven—is there?”

Charlotte just rolled her eyes.

“Seriously, angel. What’s the big rush to the altar?”

Angelica found a friend and paused to share news in giggles and whispers. She glowed in her white muslin gown.

“I have one word for you, my dear,” Charlotte said and leaned over to whisper hotly in his ear.

Daniel stumbled. By God, he hadn’t thought of that.

He tugged Charlotte into a dark alcove and pinned her against the silk-draped wall. The press of her breasts as she leaned toward him in welcome never failed to stir him, and his pulse quickened. “Grandchildren, did you say?” he growled, careful to pitch his voice low so that only she could hear. “I’m not done trying for a son. Or another daughter. Or both.”

He licked and nipped at her earlobe, itching to uncover and stroke her flesh. Wanting to lose himself in her.

When he eased his hand around to squeeze the curve of her buttock, Charlotte wiggled encouragingly and quirked a brow. “Now?”

He’d only intended a brief taste, but he should have known better. After so long, his need for her was unassailable—he suspected he’d never get enough. Despite the very public venue and the likelihood of discovery, the moment their lips touched, he was undone.

“Always.”

Look for
A Disgraceful Miss
by Elaine Golden, book two of the Fortney Follies series, in March 2011 wherever ebooks are sold!