Page 37 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
Her stricken face would haunt him. But she nodded and turned from him. “We’ll leave our direction with your servant.”
He didn’t answer, his eyes unseeing, his heart in a turmoil, his mind drifting back to a past ripe with sorrow and loss.
Chapter 9
Early the next morning, far earlier than was polite, Andrew stood at the front door to the Duke of York’s townhome. The butler eyed him for a moment and then let him enter, turning in the entryway. “Wait here, please.”
What would he say? He didn’t know. He hoped the Duke could shed some light on his situation. How would he explain things to Charity? Would she think him a cad for ignoring the girl? Would she think him a cad for aiding the girl? Somehow, no matter what he would have to do, moving forward, he wanted her to think well of him. “I want to do the right thing.” His mutterings were louder than he expected, but no one seemed to have heard.
After a moment, the butler returned. “She is waiting for you in the kitchen.”
He started. He hadn’t specified. So of course the servant would think he was there to see Charity. But instead of correcting him, Andrew decided to go see her, a sort of painful torture, while he waited for her father to be free. He nodded and made his way straight there. Was it odd that he knew the direction to most rooms in the house? The kitchen even? No matter. She was likely putting together something for the school. He’d be much relieved to be involved in a work, anything, using his hands.
But she sat in a corner while the kitchen staff were busy making what smelled to be a delicious breakfast. She had a cup in her hands, and she seemed lost in thought. Her hair was disheveled, her marvelous curls cascading all around her, tied back in a bit of a ribbon that was no match for their power. Her nose was lifted, her brow serene, and as she closed her eyes to some delicious thought, he was frozen in his tracks. He loved this woman. He loved her so fiercely he didn’t know what to do with himself. Only an extreme force of will kept him from throwing himself at her feet and begging to be married, right then.
She turned to him, her eyes opening. And somehow the reality of her awareness calmed his raptures somewhat. But then her face lit in a joyful smile.
And he was once again battling the desire to throw himself at her feet. Was he not here to talk to the duke about courting and then marrying her? Could he not move forward with the long-held desire of his heart? Could he ignore the pleadings of a longtime friend?
She patted the seat beside her. “I was just thinking of you.”
As he joined her, he scooped her hand up in his. “I am always thinking of you.” He placed his lips on her bare knuckles with the hunger of one who knew he might never get to do so again. She might never know that the feel of her skin on his lips was seared there in memory.
“Have I ever told you how much I like your hands?” She surprised him by taking his in her own smaller ones and with cool fingers, traced the lines in his palm.
“You have never, no.” His voice sounded far away to his ears. Everything seemed far away except for her head, bowed over his hand, and her fingers sending fiery sensations through him. Did she realize that with every touch she was sealing him hers?
She continued, seemingly unaware of his emotional upheaval. “Yes, they’re strong. I’ve seen them do great work. But they’re soft. I’d like to hold them, just like this, in front of the fire.” She lifted her lashes. The love that shone back stole his breath. All ability to do any duty toward Penny swept away in the gale force of her love shining at him full in the face. “And so you shall.” He reached out his other hand and ran a finger down the side of her face. “You are beautiful.”
Her laugh sounded like music. “Even like this? In such a state? The duchess would be horrified.”
“Especially like this.” He toyed with one of her curls. “You are magnificent, like those brilliant orators, stirring people’s hearts to greatness, that’s you. Just the sight of you does that for me.”
Her eyes shone. And then she lifted his hand, turned it over, and brought it up to her lips. Their softness caressed his rough knuckle, turning it into something gallant, for her, he would be anything, do anything.
His eyes could not look away as her lips parted and placed the tiniest bit of moisture on his skin. Their softness calling to him, he then closed his eyes against the urge to pull her up from her seat and into his arms. “You will be the death of me, woman.”
Her laugh filled the kitchen. “The death of you? What will it be death by?”
“Pistols at dawn.”
“Heavens, such a violent one. I had thought more like poison by mushroom.”
He laughed at her ridiculousness but then shook his head, gravely. “Pistols it is. When the duke finds out I’ve thoroughly and completely ruined his guest by placing a much longed for kiss on her beautiful mouth.”
Her mouth dropped open, and for a moment she said nothing.
Had he at last found a speechless Charity?
Was his kiss welcome? He searched her face and could find no evidence of any emotion. Besides shock. That didn’t bode well; perhaps he was too bold. But there it stood. He would not take back his words. He would not pander about in an effort to lighten their intensity. He was of a mind to make good on his promise and kiss her senseless if she’d let him.
Was he desperate? Was he trying to do anything in his power to seal her as his and wipe away any obligation for another? Or did he simply love her so much it hurt? Both. Surely more love than desperation.
She stood, her eyes filled with longing and she tugged at his hand, pulling him to his feet—in complete obedience to her every command.
As soon as he straightened, she was in his arms, her hands climbing up his chest, her feet up on her toes. And her mouth over his.
He responded immediately as their softness sent a shiver through him. His arms encircled her and his hands stretched out over her back, pulling her as close as was possible to him. Charity. His Charity. His mouth moved over hers, seeking, exploring, glorying in the exhilaration of holding such a woman. She smiled beneath him, and he kissed her lips back into their task of accepting his love, his desire, his promise to be hers forever. Forever. He consumed her mouth in a desperate frenzy, fighting against the sense of something intruding, something disrupting.No. He would let nothing stand in their way. Not even Penny.
