Page 73 of An Unwilling Earl
What have I done? What have I just done?
“Does that mean you agree?”
Oh God, he was giving her a second chance. A way out.
Take it.
But she didn’t want to.
“Yes,” she whispered again.
He scooted his chair back, making her jump. “I see no need to waste any more time then.”
More than likely he was afraid she was going to change her mind.
He was suddenly standing next to her chair, his hand out to help her stand, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them before. She looked up at him, hesitating.
“You can always change your mind.”
Slowly she put her hand in his and stood. She was shaking all over, her knees trembling, her stomach quaking, and her fingers quivering in his. Gently he pulled her to him and put his arms around her waist so that they were chest to chest.
“I remember when you saved me from the rearing horse,” she said, her voice not at all steady. “I landed on top of you. I was afraid you would discover that I was a girl under my disguise, so I quickly jumped up and ran away.”
“I remember,” he said, his voice husky. “And I was a fool not to see what was right in front of me.”
“I’m glad I came back that next day and followed you.”
“I’m glad you did, too.”
“Will you kiss me again?”
He tasted of cherry pie and the essence that was only Jacob. She put her arms around his neck and folded her fingers in his hair and held on. Maybe that was what she needed to do, just hold on and trust.
When he pulled away they were both breathing hard. His body was tight, and her legs were trembling so hard she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own. She was leaning against him in an improper way, a way that her aunt would call sinful, but that Charlotte called delightful.
“I need to know that this is what you want,” Jacob said.
“This is what I want.” There was no going back now. She’d set her course, and she wanted to follow it.
Silently he took her hand and led her upstairs. He hesitated by the door to her room then tugged lightly on her hand, and she followed him to his bedroom. She’d never been in here before. It was masculine with touches of femininity, no doubt left over from Cora. The room was done in different hues of blues from the lightest, almost white, to the deepest royal. The curtains were blue and silver chintz.
It was strange to think that this was not Jacob’s first turn at being a husband. She felt naive and had no idea how to even be a wife. She’d never seen one in action. The exception could be Sarah’s mother, but Sarah’s mother and father were rarely in the same room at the same time, so Charlotte didn’t even really have that to go on.
The bed was a monstrosity displayed prominently in the room, a large, white elephant that took up most of the space, and Charlotte tried to avoid looking at it.
Jacob dropped her hand to stoke the fire. The flames lit the room in tones of golds. There was a chair by the fireplace. A comfortable chair with the seat worn to a permanent indentation. A book lay open, facedown, on the small table beside the chair. She could only make out one word of the title, and that was “law.” The man didn’t seem to read for pleasure.
A large wardrobe, with its doors closed, was against the far wall. There were no unnecessary clothes lying about. No shoes kicked off and abandoned. It was neat and tidy, just like the man who inhabited it.
Jacob turned to face her, his face an expression of many questions.
He took her clenched hands in his, raised her fists to his lips, and kissed her fingers.
“I’ve never done this before,” she whispered.
“I’ve never done this before with you.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
