Page 62 of Touched By a Traitor
Cautiously, Andrew rose from the bed, his steps measured and quiet as he made his way into the parlor, gently closing the bedroom door behind him. Seeking distraction from the temptation that lay just beyond the threshold, he busied himself with starting fires in both the kitchen and the parlor, his mind drifting to thoughts of showing Charlotte the market. He hoped she could ride, for the last thing he needed was the torture of her sweet arse nestled against his aching cock.
A loud and urgent rap at the front door startled him from his reverie, and Andrew moved swiftly to answer the summons.
“Mr. Brinkley, good morning.” He greeted the steward of one of his Whistable estates.
“Good morning, Mr.—um… milord. Pardon me for the intrusion, but I’m afraid we have a situation on our hands.”
“What is it?” Andrew asked, gesturing for the man to step inside.
No stranger to emergencies, he led Brinkley to the water closet where he had left his work clothes from the day before. With hurried movements, he cleaned his teeth and changed into the familiar garments as the steward apprised him of the situation.
“I’m afraid there’s pox going around at the farm,” Brinkley said, his voice grave.
“Has the doctor been summoned?” Andrew’s mind raced with plans and possibilities.
“Yes, sir. But Miss Jenny, one of the residents, has an infant, you see. She says she’d like to go to her mum’s in Cornwall.”
“Her mother a decent woman?” Andrew turned to face the man, his fingers deftly tying the last knot on his neckcloth.
“Yes, milord.”
“Very well. Call the coach and have the mother and babe stay somewhere else while waiting. I’ll be close behind.”
“Right away.” Brinkley bowed and hurried out of the cabin, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the morning.
Andrew approached the bedroom door, opening it quietly.
“I’m awake,” Charlotte called out, her voice clear.
He entered the room to find her already dressed in a blue walking dress, her fingers nimbly arranging her hair. The sight of her sent a thrill through his heart.
“Good morning. I assume the disturbance woke you.”
“I heard voices,” she said, her gaze meeting his. “It sounded like something was amiss.”
“Aye. There’s a pox breakout at one of my farms. I need to assess the situation, see if I need to get help for them.”
“I will come with you. I’ve had the pox.”
Before Andrew could protest, she strode past him, her steps quick and purposeful.
“Can you ride well?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You can still become ill from it, you realize.”
“I’m aware, but I’m not going to sit by idly while I could be of use somewhere else.”
Andrew helped her saddle and mount the horse before swinging onto his own steed. As they set off, he turned to her and declared, “You’re happiest when helping others! That’s your entire reason for being!” A look of profound admiration and pride accompanied his pronouncement.
Charlotte smiled back at him, her eyes sparkling with the joy of a person who had finally been seen, truly and completely.
*
They rode throughthe countryside spotted with occasional green foliage, the unseasonably warm temperature bringing a gentle breeze carrying the scent of the sea. After twenty minutes, theyarrived at the sprawling farm, surrounded by grazing sheep and cattle. The farmhouse was not at all what Charlotte had expected. It could have been a mansion in Mayfair or any other affluent neighborhood. It appeared to have dozens of rooms and there were expansive play areas, mazes, gardens, and horse-riding enclosures for children.
Handing their mounts off to a waiting groom, Charlotte followed closely behind Andrew as they entered the building. The sound of crying children and hushed whispers filled the air, a haunting melody that made her feel uneasy.
