Page 67 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
Finlay frowned. “Of course I do.” He raised his brows. “Do you object?”
She lifted a shoulder, and yet the action didn’t appear casual. “I just can’t imagine Their Graces being interested in meeting me.”
“You assumed my sister’s teaching spot after she married. I’m sure she’d loved to ask after her former students.”
“I suppose.” She slid from the bed and disappeared behind the screen in the corner.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, Finlay set about getting dressed. It was obvious Charlotte was uncomfortable with his presence, and he didn’t wish to press his attentions. Plus, the later it became, the more they risked discovery. As much as he hated to admit it, they both had a great deal to lose if they were discovered. He longed to be with her, but if she consented, they would have to plan the announcement of their relationship very carefully. The gossip would be horrendous, thus he’d prefer for it to happen after the election.
And that was if the secret bastard son of an earl could even marry a Jewish schoolteacher.
He was buttoning his waistcoat when she stepped out from behind the screen. She wore a simple, brown muslin dress, her hair pulled back into a loose bun. She watched him as he continued to dress, but stepped forward when he began to tie his cravat.
“Allow me.”
He studied her face as she focused on knotting the square of linen, smiling at the little lines of concentration that crinkled her forehead.
“There,” she said, stepping back. “You look the urbane aristocrat once again.”
“I’m curious what I looked like before.”
“You looked….” She pressed her lips together as she considered him. “You looked approachable.”
“Approachable is good.”
“You shouldn’t be approachable to me, Fin.”
“Stop that.” Finlay grasped her shoulders, waiting until she met his gaze. “After everything we shared last night, why are you so intent to put up walls again?”
She wiggled until she broke free of his hold. “There will always be walls between us. At least I have control over the construction of these ones.”
Releasing a sigh, Finlay threw his coat over his shoulders and grabbed his top hat from the hook by the door. “I don’t want to argue with you about this right now. But we will discuss what happens next between us. Soon.”
She nodded once, her mouth pressed into a firm line.
She followed him to the door and didn’t object when he pulled her close and kissed her. “Thank you. I’ll come to call soon.”
Charlotte held his gaze and nodded. “Very well. I hope you enjoy your time with Their Graces.”
As Finlay stepped into the bright morning sunshine, he turned to look up at Charlotte’s window. He could make out her outline through the curtains, and although she didn’t wave goodbye, he felt her gaze follow him down the street.
There had to be a way for him to erase the hopelessness from her eyes. She made him happy, and he liked to think he brought her happiness in return, but Jews and Anglicans were not permitted to marry.
Either she would have to convert or he would have to. But as a Jew, he would not be able to take a seat in Parliament or inherit the Earl of Rockhaven title.
He would have to give up everything he had worked so hard for.
Frustration pressed down on him, making each step he took painful and slow. An idea brought his head up. She’d been married before, so there had to be a way forward. He needed advice, and he suddenly knew who could provide it.
With a determined gait, he directed his steps toward the synagogue located several blocks away.
Charlotte had done very little since Finlay departed.
She’d returned to bed almost immediately after he’d left, burying her face in the sheets and inhaling his crisp scent that clung to the fabric. She longed to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. Those she’d loved had never stayed, so the pain of loss was a strange comfort in itself.
Now, as the afternoon light began to wane, she stirred herself to set a pot of water to boil for tea. She stared out her small window sightlessly, reliving the previous night with Finlay.
A knock sounded on her door.
