Page 19 of A Lady’s Dangerous Secret (Scandalous Secrets #1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” James said.

After cleaning Charlotte’s wound, he had loosely tied a bandage around her neck and now collected the remaining supplies. The maid entered.

“I’ll leave you to change out of your soiled clothes.

” He reluctantly left the bedchamber and grabbed the bottle of brandy on his way out.

He went downstairs in search of Gabe’s study to collect his thoughts.

Once he discovered the room, he put down the brandy and collapsed into a wing chair near the fireplace.

He did not care that the fire had not been lit.

The coolness of the room was refreshing.

The night’s events bounced around his mind haphazardly.

A glass and decanter sat next to the chair.

He lifted the lid and passed the vessel underneath his nose.

The smell of tobacco and caramel assaulted his senses, and he knew this was a better spirit than the brandy he had just given Charlotte.

It was likely the cognac Gabe reserved for himself.

James needed a bracing drink, so he poured himself a glass without hesitation. He would ask for forgiveness later.

James took a sip and savored the flavor. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand across his face. The whole night was his fault. His honor had flown out the window, and he had proposed a salacious tryst to Charlotte.

How could I have done such a thing?

But he knew.

Charlotte intoxicated him, despite being his better.

Just like in the backstreets earlier in the night, his mind argued with his guilt. The blackguard must have been lurking outside Lady Hardwicke’s town house, irrespective of anything James had done, and it was actually a good thing he was there to save her.

James clutched the glass more tightly. That bastard was dead, but he must not be acting alone.

Charlotte was hiding something from him, and he could not fathom what she had done that would warrant a price on her life.

Anger unfurled inside him that anyone would dare touch a hair on her beautiful head.

Although he was not good enough for her, he would never let any harm come to her.

James sipped his drink and mulled over the supposed atrocities a lady of the ton could commit.

Was the cutthroat a hired assassin by a jilted lover or the angry wife of a paramour?

No. James could not believe those scenarios. Charlotte seemed like an innocent. She definitely kissed like one.

Theft?

Although he did not pay much attention to the on-dits of the ton , Charlotte did not seem impoverished.

Murder?

She did not seem like a killer. Moreover, he could not imagine a situation that would arise in her cosseted life where she would take the life of another.

James was stumped. He looked down at his glass and realized it was empty.

Right.

Time to check on the enigma that was Charlotte.

“Come in.” Her voice permeated through the closed door after James’s knock.

She still did not sound like her usual self, though he could sense strength in the tone of her voice.

He cracked open the door, noting that the maid had left.

He saw a bundle tucked into Gabe’s massive bed.

Although he would have to spirit Charlotte back to her aunt’s house before dawn, there was yet time for her to recover more before she had to leave.

She would stay put in this bedroom while he slept in a guest chamber.

He walked into the room and closed the door softly behind him, treading lightly on the plush Axminster carpet toward the bed.

He took a moment to assess her. The maid had unpinned her chestnut hair, and it fanned out gloriously over the pillow.

She stared up at the ceiling, and James noted a hint of color in her cheeks.

The ruffled neck of a white nightgown encircled her elegant neck and peeked out from beneath the counterpane.

James reached the side of the bed. “How do you fare?” He reflexively lifted his hand to reach out to her, but then pulled it back, knowing she was not his to touch.

“Better enough. Thank you for saving me,” she answered in a soft yet steady voice.

“Nonsense. I saw you holding the pistol. If I had not shown up, I’m sure you would have taken care of the ruffian.”

More white nightgown fabric emerged from under the counterpane. She shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps.”

Charlotte pushed herself up and propped her back against the headboard. As she maneuvered herself, the counterpane slipped from her shoulders to her waist.

Good Lord, the ruffled neck was deceiving. The fabric was completely translucent. James should not have been surprised—she borrowed the nightgown from a courtesan, after all.

Before he could divert his eyes, James caught a glimpse of two darkened circles on her chest beckoning for attention.

His member twitched at their sight, so he quickly focused on Lady Charlotte’s face.

James swallowed, realizing she had no idea how much of her he had just seen.

More importantly, she did not know what just a glance of her delectable body did to him.

He cleared his throat. “We can talk more after you have rested. I’ll come back to wake you early to leave for your aunt’s house so that she is none the wiser. I wouldn’t want you to suffer a scandal.”

Charlotte worried her lower lip before responding, “Thank you.”

He could not get the fleeting image of her breasts from his mind.

It was a tantalizing tease that made him want to explore more of what the transparent nightgown was barely concealing.

James chided himself. She had just been through a traumatic experience that was largely his fault.

He was an absolute bounder for thinking of what it would be like to tear the barely-there fabric from her body, worship every inch of her, and then sink his cock to the hilt inside her cunny.

He shook his head, trying to vanquish the desire from his mind and his body.

“Are you quite alright?” Cornflower-blue eyes stared back at him with concern, and she thankfully pulled the counterpane to her shoulders unassumingly.

“I was just clearing my head.” Heat rushed up James’s neck in embarrassment. “I bid you goodnight, Charlotte.” He abruptly turned from the bed and walked briskly toward the door.

His hand reached for the doorknob, but Charlotte’s voice floated through the air, “Wait.”

He paused and closed his eyes. He rested his forehead against the door and willed control over his body. “Yes?”

“Stay with me.” A pleading note laced her voice.

James took a deep breath and turned away from the door.

She looked fragile and vulnerable buried in the massive bed.

Gone was the bold woman he had come to admire.

James knew the honorable course of action would be to leave the room, but how could he say no to her distraught face?

“Of course. I’ll sit by the bed.”

He walked toward the fireplace and lifted one of the wing chairs with ease. After his time in the Royal Navy, he could sleep in any situation and in any position, including sitting up. Before he could reach the bed, Charlotte’s voice carried across the room once more.

“Can you hold me?” Her voice was now desperate. “Please?”

James paused and looked toward her again, truly appreciating her youth and innocence as her wide eyes begged him to comfort her.

Her wittiness and bravado always made James think of her as much older, but there she was, scared and alone, battling demons he did not understand.

He placed the chair down in the middle of the room and walked to the bed.

“I’ll hold you, but I’m staying above the counterpane.” He wished there was an ocean between them. Hell, he would even take a moat, just anything to keep his baser urges at bay. Instead, a piece of fabric would have to do.

This is a terrible idea.

He removed his dirty boots before climbing onto the bed.

Charlotte moved her pillow around and scooted herself closer to him then positioned herself on her side.

He extinguished the bedside candle and curled behind her, before he draped his arm over her.

Even though the counterpane separated their bodies, her hair remained unbound and flowed over the pillow.

The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine invaded his senses, bringing him back to their first dance.

A protectiveness surged through him, and he became lost in her scent, tugging her close to him.

James heard a sigh escape from her as the tension in her body eased.

After a few minutes, she breathed more slowly, and James allowed himself to relax.

Before he knew it, he fell into a deep slumber.

James awoke abruptly to screams and a thrashing body. He jerked himself upright, ready to smother the danger that was beside him. Luckily, the glow of the fireplace illuminated the source of the disruption, and he stopped himself from attacking.

“No! No!” Charlotte clutched her neck and screamed while kicking her legs and punching into the air. “Don’t kill me!”

James’s heart rioted at her suffering. He wanted to wake her but knew from his experiences with his sailors that it could make it even worse.

He watched helplessly as Charlotte thrashed. After what felt like hours but was only minutes, her movements slowed. She opened her eyes with a panicked look on her face.

“Charlotte, it’s James. You’re safe.”

“James?” she questioned, staring at him.

“You were having a nightmare.”

Her gaze dropped, and she nodded. “I know,” she whispered.

James needed to find out the full truth from Charlotte, but now was not the time. Nevertheless, if talking about her dream would help, he would lend an ear.

“What happened?” He asked softly, and gently held her hand.

Charlotte shook her head vigorously. “I can’t tell you.”

“You begged someone not to kill you,” he said more harshly than he intended. He would personally murder anyone who threatened to harm her.