Page 59 of The Virgin Duchess

“That sounds lovely, my dear.”

Courses came and went, and Frederick was thoroughly impressed with the care and skill that was used to prepare each of them. Some of his favorite cheeses and fruits filled the first offering of smaller plates, and Charlotte had had the kitchen prepare Cornish hen for the main entre, Frederick’s absolute first choice when it came to dinner.

“I still cannot fathom why you had the house go through this much effort for just a meal between you and me. While I am certain that you are deserving of such a thing, the same cannot be said about myself.”

Charlotte only smiled back at him, rolling her eyes at his “nonsense,” as she called it. “Don’t be silly. You are Duke of this glorious estate, and you have done just as much for me by taking me to Lauxhall.”

Frederick felt oddly uncomfortable to be receiving such a grand gesture. The food and atmosphere were excellent, utterly incredible, and he’d never entertained the notion that he might be the type of man to win something of such value from his wife.

Hell, in the beginning, he’d never expected to have or desire to have a wife at all.

I do not deserve all this. A man who’s allowed himself to be known as a rake. A man currently on the hunt for another so that he might…

“Have you enjoyed the food?” Charlotte looked up from her seat, that expectant expression of nervous optimism clinging to her sweet features.

“Incredibly so. Thank you. Should we…” Frederick wiped his mouth with his napkin, standing up and walking to the other end of the table. “…perhaps enjoy that walk?”

Charlotte grinned again, and if it weren’t for that gorgeous look on her, Frederick wasn’t confident if he was going to make it another moment. He had not been the center of attention—in any way whatsoever—in some years. His daily toil had been to protect Rose; to correct the egregious error he allowed to take place by not speaking up about the Baron earlier.

Why now had fate decided to bring him Charlotte?

She was so much more than he could have ever imagined. It was a swirl of guilt for roping her into an arrangement with him and terror that it might end one day that filled him so much that he could scarcely breathe. When he held out his hand for her, Charlotte took it easily, looping her arm through his as he led them toward the rear of the estate where they could take the patio steps down into the courtyard.

The evening air was crisp but not overly chilled, and the stars overhead sparkled on this remarkably clear night. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen, and it was still without wind or rain there to keep them from enjoying a stroll. Charlotte followed his slow steps down to the manicured bushes and trellises that filled this space, and Frederick struggled to keep himself steady.

“Are you all right, Frederick?” Charlotte stopped, forcing him to halt and face her. “You are so quiet.”

“I’m thinking. That is all. I assure you. The evening is…” He looked around himself, the blue-black sky and the dim lights of the house falling on the otherwise dark gardens. “…So very beautiful.”

Charlotte sighed, humming happily to herself. “It is. Precisely, what I was aiming to achieve.”

“Then you should consider yourself an excellent success.” Frederick started up their walk again, and Charlotte swung her free arm back and forth, grazing her fingertips across the tops of the low bushes. “Though, should you have been aiming for beauty, you could have simply stopped with yourself.”

Laughing, his wife rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Such flattery! Still, it is a fine fit for our sixth evening together, hmm?”

He faltered again, chuckling as he considered that it was exactly what Charlotte had done—arranged their sixth evening to be a private dinner and stroll.

“Truly, Charlotte, your keen mind knows no limits.” He leaned toward her, pressing his lips to the delicate skin behind her ear. “Crafty, crafty.”

“You didn’t know?” she asked playfully. “I had assumed you caught on to this being our sixth evening during dinner. Well, I do hope that you approve of the use of it. Though, if we must repeat it…”

She faced him, smoothing her fingers down the side of his face as she grinned so earnestly.

“I should not hate it.”

I do not deserve her.

Frederick’s heart was a storm in his ribcage, need and emotion he couldn’t fathom bubbling up through him. Charlotte was indeed exceedingly lovely this evening; the content smile she wore was the true piece de resistance.

“There is a fountain just over there.” He gestured with his head, Charlotte following and noting the shadowy privacy it offered. “With a bench. Shall we?”

And I will not give her up.

Neither of them could say that they read each other’s mind, not actually, but they were in sync. When Charlotte looked into his eyes, he saw there the reflected desire building in his own veins,and the promise of an evening to remember indeed made him swell with arousal.

“That sounds wonderful. I…” A delicate flush filled Charlotte’s cheek, the sweet pink color too much for him. “…I should like to stay out here with you for as long as we can.”

Chest aching for the furious beating of his heart, Frederick led Charlotte to the fountain. He was enraptured by her, so undeserving, and it occurred to him not for the first time that his hunt for the Baron might soon affect her. Charlotte could not be another victim of that man’s horrid behavior. If needed, he would give his wife leave of him to protect her, no matter how much that pained him.

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