Page 23 of Too Wylde To Tame
Ollie took a seat on the adjacent chaise lounge. “Pity. What a shame it is that your brother has ever been a thorn in your side.” With a subtle sleight of hand, Ollie slipped a coin to the soiled dove and sent her on her way. Clearly, no one’s fool, she palmed the coin and left them to talk.
“He has been… he continues to be,” Jameson murmured morosely. He sat up long enough to retrieve the bottle of brandy from the table before him and began to swill directly from the vessel, not even bothering with a glass. “Why him? Why did it have to be him who was born first? It’s nothing more than an accident of fate that he is Viscount Welbey while I am a prospectless younger son with nothing but a life of penury ahead of me.”
Kent smiled. “It is terribly unfair, indeed. All because he is the eldest and currently holds the title, but fate has a funny way of correcting itself. With a bit of help, of course.”
Jameson frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if he were to suffer some sort of terrible accident and die without issue—then you would become Viscount Welbey. Of course, if he marries, you’d have to wait until it was a certainty that his viscountess would not bear him a posthumous heir.”
Jameson scoffed. “I’d hardly be so lucky. I’ve already made one halfhearted attempt which failed epically.”
Tending the seed he’d planted, Kent nodded. “You’ve never been the lucky sort, Jameson. Perhaps its time you begin making your own luck rather than waiting on fate to work in your favor… If your brother marries Miss Wylde, and by all accounts he means to do so most expeditiously, then you could be without the fortune and title forever! But if he were to meet some unfortunate demise prior to their wedding then it would all be yours. No doubt her affections would follow the title—Not that you want her, of course. But the irony of having her want you when you can have anyone else… wouldn’t that be rich?”
The younger man looked up, but it wasn’t disdain or even denial that could be read on his face. It was possibility. The seed had taken root and the plot was sprouting like the new growth of spring. “I could deny her publicly. I could humiliate her as she has humiliated me.”
“Us,” Kent said. “I’ve suffered my own embarrassment at the hands of Miss Charity Wylde. I’d certainly be inclined to forgo our little wager if you managed to find some way to make her an object of ridicule. But first, your brother… He’s the primary obstacle for you, Jameson. Eliminating him solves every problem that you have.”
“But he’s still at Randford House and I’m here in London. After the incident in the village and now, having sabotaged his mount, I would never be permitted to return.”
“I did not meant that you should go back openly. Discretion, Jameson, is sometimes the most dastardly of weapons.”
Jameson, intrigued, put the bottle down. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“It’s only a four hour ride, isn’t it? You could be back there by the morning. You’ve been a very visible presence here tonight. So many people have witnessed your attendance here, that your alibi is all but set in stone… And with a bit of coin in the right hand, I’m certain someone would be willing to swear that you were here for the entirety of the night. You can slip into Randford House unobserved and permanently eradicate your problems. This is the best way forward, Jameson… and I’ll help you however I can.”
“Why?”
Ollie smiled, ready to assuage the younger man’s sudden suspicion. “Because I am your friend, Jameson. Perhaps the only friend you have. But you couldn’t ask for a better one if you mean to give fate a helping hand and ensure your future.” Ollie leaned forward and plucked the bottle of brandy from Jameson’s hand. “You’ll want to have a steady hand for what comes next.”
* * *
Charity slipped downthe hall as silently as possible. She’d left Cordelia sleeping soundly, her rhythmic snores echoing in their shared room. Frederick didn’t know what she was about. She certainly hadn’t arranged a late night assignation with him, and yet that was precisely what she had left her room with the intention of having.
When she reached Frederick’s door, she didn’t knock at all, but opened it as silently as possible. The room was dark, but he wasn’t abed. No, he was sitting on a small settee at the foot of the bed, in the process of removing his boots. He’d already discarded his coat and cravat. His waistcoat hung open and the neck of his shirt had opened to reveal a v of golden skin and crisp, dark hair.
“Charity, what are you doing in here?” He asked the question in a low whisper. Then his expression changed, growing tense. “Have you had a change of heart?”
She blinked in shock. “Oh, heaven’s no. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life than my desire to be your wife… But that’s days away. And as soon as our betrothal is announced, every person in this house will be watching us like hawks. If we are to have a private moment together, it is now or never… or now until we are legally wed.”
His eyes narrowed, not with anger but with speculation.. “Why would we need privacy before we are legally wed?”
“Must I say it?”
“Oh yes,” he nodded. “You absolutely must.”
“Well,” she took a deep steadying breath, “I thought it would be in my best interest to let you know, without any doubt, that I am perfectly amenable to being seduced.”
He dropped his second boot on the floor to join the first before he rose and padded toward her in his stockinged feet. Despite his state of undress, or perhaps because of it, she realized that Frederick was a dangerous man. Affable and kind, well mannered, certainly. But there, alone in his room, with him moving towards her with the slow, languid grace of a predator, she felt a frisson of fear—but it was tempered with something else. Desire. Anticipation. Curiosity. The maelstrom of feelings swirling inside her was overwhelming. But she didn’t move. Not a muscle. Instead, she locked her quaking knees and waited for him to reach her.
He halted only inches from her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body radiating towards her. “What do you think that means, Charity? Seduction… kisses, a stolen embrace? I’d like to know that we are both aware of what is to come next.”
Drawing on all of her courage, Charity took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “I have no practical experience in lovemaking, obviously. But I am not entirely ignorant of what is involved. And I came here tonight with that purpose in mind.”
“You are certain this is what you want? We are to be married in just two days,” he cautioned. “I do not want you to regret this.”
She leaned in, her lips barely a whisper from his. “Why is it that I am trying to seduce you and you are trying to talk me out of it?”
He couldn’t halt the smile that curved his lips. “Never let it be said that I stood in the way of you having what you want… There is nothing I wouldn’t give you.”
