Page 66 of A Lady's Dangerous Secret
Sister! Never in James’s wildest dreams would he have not one but four sisters. Genevieve must have taken after her mother with her thick, curly mahogany hair and dark eyes. His other sister who was in Town, Celine, mirrored the Duke with her sandy-blonde hair and hazel eyes. He had not met his other twosisters, since they were married and in the countryside with their families.
Besides never imagining he would have four siblings, James did not think he would hear one of them challenging a duke at the dinner table. He was realizing that his newly discovered family did not act like most of theton,despite being in their upper echelon.He was also coming to terms with the fact he was a part of—no, peripherally related to—the social class he despised. Proof of his parents’ marriage had not been found, so he remained the bastard that his uncle accused him of being.
His family’s voices faded into the background while James ruminated over what Lottie would think if he remained born on the wrong side of the blanket. He tried to convince himself that she would not mind, but the fear that he would significantly lower her station nagged at him. They had not discussed such hypothetical situations just yet.
Lottie had been convalescing at her aunt’s town house for the past several weeks, and when he visited, chaperoned of course, he tried not to bring up any of the recent frightening events. She luckily had her courses, so they could have the formal courtship they had skipped at a more leisurely pace. However, it was still not the standard wooing of a typical debutante. No, James’s bride-to-be was recovering from a gunshot wound. He ran his hand through his hair, despite being seated at the table, and chided himself again for not protecting her. Theton,on the other hand, did not see their situation in the same light. The gossipmongers were beside themselves with the romantic story of a naval hero who was the long-lost son of a duke, rescuing a damsel in distress.
If only they knew.
Charlotte gazed out the window of her aunt’s drawing room. She was improving, and moved around the town house without excruciating pain in her upper arm. Although Dr. Stone had removed the stitches from her wound, he continued to order her to rest and stay indoors. It was becoming harder and harder to do so as Charlotte became more restless. The only time she felt a sense of calm was when James came to visit. Those stormy gray eyes were not so stormy anymore. She liked to tell herself it was all because of her, but she knew finding his family played a large role as well. She was sure of this since the Duke no longer had the melancholic look in his eyes. Making their family whole had been a boon to everyone.
She and James talked about nothing and everything at the same time. They had skipped so many steps in getting to know each other that it felt as if Charlotte was discovering him anew. James told her about the attack on his ship and the cannonballs that had splintered the deck’s wood and injured his arm, leaving the gruesome scars. He recounted his oppressive childhood under his uncle, but also how he met Jack Doherty when his now friend tried to steal a loaf of bread from him. In return, Charlotte opened up about feeling like theforgotten fifththroughout her life and the bravado she used to hide it. She regaled James with her exploits as a rambunctious child, trailing behind her older brothers.
Once they had bared enough of their souls to each for the time being, the pair stayed on lighter topics. Charlotte was learning all of James’s favorites. His favorite color was the blue of the ocean when it was tinged with gold from the rising sun. His favorite food was anything that was fresh and not salted, dueto his years at sea. His favorite season was one where he could be on the deck of a ship and neither freeze nor be fried by the sun.
Charlotte smiled at his practicality. He had lightened up significantly, but he was still too serious for his own good. She would have to find a food he truly enjoyed, ones that made him moan with delight. Her cheeks heated as she thought of what else could satisfy James. With their chaperoned visits, they did not have any time alone, which had not bothered Charlotte right after her injury. But now that she was on the mend, being in the same room as James without the ability to touch him was pure torture.
Her chastity was not the only thing that bothered Charlotte. As she became more mobile, Charlotte noticed there were men outside her home whenever she looked out the window. She brought it up with James the day prior, and he shrugged it off. After all the recent attempts on her life, he would not act this nonchalantly unless he knew exactly what was afoot. He must be hiding something from her, and Charlotte did not like it one bit. She was not some helpless miss, and she needed to be apprised of what was going on, especially with regard to her own life. She had never let a man control her before, and she was not going to start now. A knock on the drawing room door interrupted her thoughts.
“Come in.”
Robinson opened the door. “Captain Hughes seeks your audience.”
“Bring him in and call for Bailey.”
“Yes, Lady Charlotte.”
Despite Charlotte’s frustration, her breath caught when James crossed the threshold into the room. He was dressed like a proper aristocrat with his smartly tied cravat, fitted coat, and snug breeches that accentuated the muscular definition of his legs. His black top-boots gleamed in the sunlight thatfiltered through the windows. This cultured look was his new uniform since he had resigned his naval commission. The Duke had insisted that James learn how to manage the ducal estates instead of continuing his military career. Even if Westcliffe’s marriage to James’s mother was not proven, the Duke intended to bequeath his unentailed properties to James. James had fought the offer at first, not wanting to be part of the despisedton,but he finally acquiesced. He admitted to Charlotte that the driving force was wanting her to have the life to which she was accustomed, despite the glaring fact that he was still a bastard.
Silly man.
Charlotte was theforgotten fifth, and James’s love was all she needed. She tried to convince him that she did not care about titles or material goods, but he would not budge.
James purposefully crossed the room toward where Charlotte sat near the window.
“Lottie, what troubles you?”
Charlotte paused. No one, not even Arthur, had ever been so attuned to her emotions.
“I…”
James knelt next to the chair where she sat and clasped her hands.
“Tell me.”
Charlotte was torn between being angry at him, and her heart melting at his concern.
“You must know the identity of those strange men outside.”
He shrugged his shoulders just as he had done the day before.
She stood abruptly.
“Your arm!”
“I don’t give a fig about my arm right now. You know who those men are, and you aren’t telling me.”
James slowly rose to his feet so that he towered over Charlotte. He looked down his nose at her. How she did not guess that he had noble blood coursing through his veins was beyond her. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
