Page 83 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

“Is the cottage so far we can’t walk?”

“No. It’s only about a quarter mile.” His gaze drifted to her feet. “But your slippers aren’t meant for walking.”

Blast the man. Why did he have to be so thoughtful? Still, she refused to have him think her weak. “I’m perfectly capable of walking a short distance.”

That arrogant smirk appeared. “Never said you weren’t.”

After saying goodbye to everyone and promising they would come tomorrow for tea at two, they set off for the cottage.

Heat from the day had vanished, leaving the country air cool and crisp. She pulled in a great lungful. “I always forget how much cleaner it smells in the country.”

“Didn’t you return to your brother’s estate after the Season?”

“Not often. It was a blessed respite to remain in London with only Rose and a few servants.”

“Away from Edgerton’s judgmental eye, eh?”

She gave a soft chuckle, surprised at how wonderful it felt to laugh. She must have broken a record for the day. “Perceptive of you.”

“Oooh. Selfless and perceptive. Might I coax a third compliment from you today?” He patted her hand lying on his arm. “I will file them away and take them out to look at when you’re angry with me.”

“They shall become dog-eared and cracked from handling.” A smile tugged at her lips.

He chuckled in return.

She stole a peek at his profile as he focused on the path before them. He was handsome. She could admit that—at least to herself. And those kisses! Her face warmed. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks in the growing darkness.

“Charlotte.” Gone was any trace of amusement as he spoke her name. “I want to make this work between us.”

A voice inside urged her to respond that she did as well, but old fears held her back. Could she trust him? Or if she allowed him in, would he use that to control and harm her? She remained silent.

“I see.” Muscles in his arm tensed beneath her hand. “Well, take heart. You may not have to suffer with me for long.”

The bite of his flippant remark cut through her. An apology crowded on her tongue, but before she could release it, the shadow of a building loomed before them.

Although not nearly as magnificent as the main house, thecottagewas impressive in size and, from what Charlotte could see, elegant in design.

“We’re home, Mrs. Beckham.”

Simon triedto hold back his disappointment at Charlotte’s silence. Was he really asking that much? He didn’t ask her to love him. God, he didn’t want that anyway, not with the possibility of death looming over him. But they’d spent such a pleasant evening together going through the main house. He had hoped they’d moved from outright hate to tolerating each other.

She’d complimented him twice. Perhaps unintentionally, but she had laughed and smiled more than he ever remembered. She seemed to enjoy his family.

And he still wanted to kiss that dimple in her cheek.

Damnation!

He opened the door to the cottage, but as she moved to enter, he stopped her.

“Tradition.” He scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the house. Pleased when she didn’t protest, he wondered if they had indeed made progress.

Soft candlelight and lamps cast a golden glow over Charlotte’s face, and his breath hitched in his throat. “Alone at last.” He gave her his signature wink.

Charlotte pushed against his chest with her fists. “Put me down, you oaf!”

How easily she could break the spell, yet he obeyed her command.

Stationed at the front door, John, one of his father’s footmen, took their coats and hats.

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