Page 108 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

A grin tugged at his lips.

“What’s so amusing?” Charlotte jerked his attention back, her scowl matching the image of his daydream so closely he laughed. She lifted a serviette. “Do I have food somewhere?” Even her annoyed tone made him smile.

“No. I was simply picturing you as a mother.”

She arched a dark brow at him. “And you find that . . . humorous?”

He leaned in, propping his chin on his palm. “I find it delightful.” And perhaps in an hour or so, they would be well on their way to creating such a child.

When she finished the last of her dessert—trifle with chocolate shavings, of course—he said, “Why don’t you go up and have a nice relaxing bath? I’ll have Rose let me know when you’re ready.”

She gave a silent nod, her expression determined, as if readying herself for battle.

And he vowed to make it the best battle she had ever lost.

Upstairs,Charlotte eased back into the tub of warm water. Rose had washed her hair and rinsed it with a solution of water and lemon juice. The lemon scent mixed with the water and coated her skin as well. Between the clean fragrance and the soothing water, Charlotte’s muscles slowly relaxed.

She spoke words of encouragement to herself. How hard could it be? She sighed. If only her mother were still alive to counsel her. Everything had happened so quickly after the wedding. She’d meant to ask Honoria, but the unexpected arrival of little Kitty had made that impossible.

Charlotte had heard snippets from widows as they crowded together at balls and soirées. But the different accounts had confused her. Should she lie motionless and think of the king and England—which seemed odd and, honestly, unappealing—or should she participate? The latter seemed the more logical choice. After all, Charlotte was a woman of action. But how? What should she do?

Should she ask Simon? Would he laugh at her ineptitude—or worse, her boldness?

Gah!

No matter how nervous she was, she couldn’t dally in thewater much longer. The skin of her fingers had developed tiny wrinkles. After Rose dressed her in a fresh nightrail and towel dried her hair, she prepared to braid it.

Remembering Simon’s expression when her hair had hung loose, Charlotte stopped her maid. “Leave it down, Rose.”

Charlotte’s fingers shook as she draped a dark lock of her hair over her shoulder to lie against her bosom. When had she grown interested in garnering Simon’s approval? “Wait half an hour before calling Mr. Beckham. I have a letter I wish to write.”

Rose curtsied. “Very well, ma’am.” The maid sent Charlotte a knowing smile, then closed the door behind her.

The supposed letter was a ruse. Charlotte simply needed to prepare herself. She breathed deeply, smoothing her palms over the soft cotton of her nightrail as she cast glances at the large bed.

A suddenboomjolted her from her worrying, and she raced to the window, pulling back the curtain. She squinted into the pitch-black darkness, unable to make out anything—until lightning arced across the sky, the razor-sharp strands of light outlining monstrous, menacing clouds. She counted. “One, two, three, four, five, six—”Boom.

Strained minutes passed while she waited at the window for another flash of lightning, counting again. She only made it to three.

Close. Much closer than it had been before nightfall, the storm had returned.

Trifle meowed at her feet, and she picked up the kitten. “Shush.” Her hand trembled as she stroked the kitten’s soft fur, and another flash of lightning, so close silhouettes of the trees in front of the house appeared, the answering call of thunder not even giving her time to open her mouth.

Rain pelted the window in heavy, angry drops, dripping down in streams.

She clutched Trifle so tightly to her bosom, the kittensquirmed from her grasp, then jumped to freedom, scurrying under the bed.

Terror swept over her, the memory of that night, so long ago, clawing its way to the surface.

Alone. Afraid. A child seeking comfort and finding rejection.

Lightning flashed again, illuminating her room, and the crash of thunder reverberated through her bones. Though she tried to hold it in, a heart-wrenching sob climbed up her throat and escaped her lips.

CHAPTER 29

Not long after Simon finished bathing, thunder crashed again in the distance.

“Hurry up.”

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