Page 7 of Her Temporary Duke (Rakes and Roses #2)

C harlotte breathed a deep sigh of relief as she sank into the steaming hot water. She had realized how tense she had been for the entire day. Such was the pressure of maintaining a facade as she was forced to do.

She let her head sink beneath the surface for a long moment, watching her breath rise in bubbles before lifting herself out and wiping hair from her face. She let her head rest against the back of the bathtub.

Marie had left for France, but Charlotte could not ask any details, for the real Amelia would know what had become of the lady's maid. Marie would have been her only ally in the house. Her betrothed was flirtatious and, at times, overbearing.

Not my betrothed. Amelia’s betrothed. I must remember next time he wants to kiss me.

But he had not wanted to kiss her after the ride around Hyde Park.

Charlotte had gloried in the chance to be ahorse, something that was commonplace in the Nightingale’s country estate in Yorkshire.

She had out-ridden Seth at every turn, laughing and taking great pleasure in her victory.

She had felt sure that her display would render him besotted with her.

No! With Amelia!

After all, what other woman of his experience could he say was such a match for him?

Surely that was a quality that he would value.

But Seth had become sullen, even accusing, seeming to believe that she had been playing a practical joke at his expense.

The final straw had been when his friend Elliot had turned up and complimented Charlotte on her horsemanship.

“Does he want to court Amelia or doesn’t he? He can’t seem to make up his mind. So, I must make it up for him,” Charlotte said to herself, allowing the water to rise to the edges of her lips.

He referred to a letter and said that I, or rather Amelia, had contradicted herself. Am I to assume that Amelia wrote to him expressing her dissatisfaction with him? But he is a duke. I cannot believe Amelia would reject him.

Her course of action was clear. In the absence of guidance from Amelia, Charlotte needed to proceed based on what she thought was best for her sister.

At some point, Amelia had become involved with Seth. She must have felt something for him at that point. Charlotte would behave as though that something was still present. She would ensure that Seth was ready to be a good husband for her sister.

In a few hours, she would attend afternoon tea with Seth at Earl Tewkesbury’s house.

For now, however, she would let the pressures of impersonation fall away…

Charlotte gloried in the wind rushing through her hair. She controlled the spirited mare that Seth had placed her upon with skill born of much practice, ever since she had first moved to Hamilton House, with its acres of rolling fields and parkland. She looked back at her pursuer.

Seth looked like a Viking raider. His fair hair flew in glorious disarray.

His face was tight with concentration, and his green eyes gleaming.

He stood in the saddle, and his breeches showed off the masculine shape of his legs.

Coatless, his shirt clung to him where sweat had soaked the material.

It pressed against the hard muscle of his chest, revealing his body even as it covered him.

Charlotte did not want to remember that he was Amelia’s betrothed. That he thought she was Amelia. She simply wanted to experience the thrill of being chased. Chased by a wild, handsome man. An unpredictable beast of a man. It made her breathless with excitement.

She steered her horse towards the nearest fence, urging her on to greater speed. Seth cried out in alarm, reaching for her as she and her horse sped towards the barrier. The mare leaped it, landing nimbly. Charlotte barely shifted in her saddle, steering the horse towards trees.

Seth crested the fence, his body low against that of his horse.

Both animals had taut, athletic bodies. He seemed perfect for horseback, his body matching the elegant beauty of the beast beneath him perfectly.

Trees engulfed her. She looked to her front, guiding her horse along a narrow trail through the tight-packed woodland.

Branches whipped at her and tall grass tickled her legs.

She peeked back again, seeing Seth gaining on her and smiling.

An answering smile appeared on Seth’s face—the smile of a man chasing a woman and knowing she wanted to be caught.

Then it vanished, and his eyes widened.

Charlotte looked back and saw the branch racing towards her. She ducked, trying to halt her mare at the same time. It didn’t work. The branch struck her hard enough to splinter it. She fell from the saddle, tumbling into soft grass and rolling as she fell.

Seth was throwing himself from the saddle moments later, falling to his knees beside her.

“Charlotte!” he cried out.

She sat up. Sunlight broke through the trees in bright bars. One of those picked out gold in Seth’s hair, making his eyes shine brightly.

“You know who I am?” she whispered wonderingly.

“Of course,” Seth said, running his strong hands over her body, searching for fractured bones.

She stopped him, holding his hands still. They were on her thighs, and she pressed them against her legs as she looked into his eyes.

“ Of course ? How long have you known?” Charlotte demanded.

Seth smiled brilliantly, leaning forward to kiss her.

Questions fled from Charlotte’s mind as she lost herself in that kiss. Her hands stroked his face, exploring the contours of his handsome features. Then, she touched the sides of his neck, feeling his racing pulse. Finally, her touch came to rest against the iron muscle of his chest.

His kiss deepened, and she felt herself pushed back.

The soft, mossy earth embraced her, as comfortable as any mattress.

His hands were upon her breasts, exploring, squeezing, and caressing.

She moaned, whispering his name. His lips found her neck, biting her there so that she knew a mark would be left.

She gasped at the thought. It would be like a brand, his brand, announcing his ownership of her.

“I must know,” she whispered, tangling her fingers in his hair, holding his body atop hers with her legs arched and crooked around his, “that you see me as Charlotte, not Amelia.”

“I have always seen you as you are, my dear Charlotte. Brave, strong, beautiful,” Seth replied, looking into her eyes with his own fierce, hawk’s eyes.

“Amelia is equally beautiful,” Charlotte replied, lifting her head to stroke her lips against his.

“But she is a lady of the ton. Controlled. Proper,” Seth spat the words, his face hard with contempt, “you are wild. A creature of the woods. A free spirit. Did you think your subterfuge would fool me?”

Charlotte shook her head wordlessly and then cried out as Seth fell upon her.

Her dress, thin cotton, tore under the cruel strength of his hands.

She was naked beneath, and his mouth was suddenly upon her nudity.

She arched her back as his mouth fastened upon her breasts, clawing at the material that kept her hands from his bare body.

Charlotte woke with a start. The water had become cold around her. The dream was fresh in her mind, its sensations momentarily as real as memory could be, as though it had happened to her.

Oh my! I must not let that man get under my skin like this. Yes, he is handsome, but he is Amelia’s betrothed, not mine. There is no room for him in my heart.

She stood, grabbing linen to dry herself, then pulling a dressing robe over her nakedness.

A clock in her bedroom chimed twelve. She must dress and call the maid to help with her hair.

Seth would be at Prescott Estate by half past two, surely.

Focusing on the action of drying herself, she tried to ignore the feeling of regret that came with pushing any romantic thoughts of Seth from her mind.

Such things are not for me. I have two cousins who must be married before me. By that time, I am sure I will be a spinster. The life Amelia has here in London is one I cannot aspire to.

By the time the clock struck half past the hour of two, Charlotte was ready.

She had selected a suitable dress from Amelia’s fine wardrobe and was admiring herself in the large dress mirror that stood in the corner of Amelia’s bedroom.

The mirror in Charlotte’s room in Hamilton House was much smaller, not that she had any clothes as fine as these to look at.

Every dress of Amelia’s was finer than Charlotte’s best. She felt envious of her sister and then guilty for her envy.

She still did not know what had become of Amelia.

She had written a letter and posted it that morning.

In the meantime, she had to continue to work blind at playing Amelia until her sister wrote back.

Five minutes passed, and there was no knock at the door to announce Seth. Ten minutes. At a quarter to three, there came a knock. Amelia pulled open the door impatiently, expecting to see Seth’s insolent grin. Instead, it was one of the footmen, holding a folded piece of paper in one gloved hand.

“A message delivered by hand, Lady Amelia,” he said, “just this moment.”

Amelia frowned, thanked the man, and took the envelope. She closed the door and opened it.

Amelia,

I am travelling to Tewkesbury’s house from Hillcrest and have no intention of stopping along the way. If you insist on keeping this absurd appointment, kindly meet me there.

Seth

“How… how dare he!” Charlotte breathed furiously. “How dare he treat my sister so! What on earth does she see in this man! Of all the rude, arrogant…”