Page 9 of One Jewel-tide Scandal (Singular Sensation #10.5)

Alexander frowned at the detritus of his dinner.

It had been a quiet affair since the countess hadn’t joined him for the meal.

While he’d eaten, he’d wondered about the kiss he and Charlotte had shared earlier.

Did she think about it too? He hadn’t been lying when he’d said there had been a connection between them.

It might prove difficult to explain, but there were certain times in a man’s life when everything felt…

right or as if something were always meant to happen.

Such had been that heat, that attraction, with the widow.

Did he want another kiss merely to discover if the first had been a fluke?

Absolutely, he did, but she would need to give him some sort of sign first. He wouldn’t surprise her again, yet there had been more than offense in the hazel depths of her eyes directly following that embrace.

And he wanted to know why? How devoted had the earl been to her?

There were no immediate answers, but being here, forced to interact with the beguiling countess had provided more questions than anything else.

Not wishing to remain in the large dining room by himself—well, Charlie was with him and gorging himself on another meal of shredded chicken, mashed vegetables, and broth—he left the table in favor of moving to the drawing room to sit by the fire and perhaps ruminate on a few things.

When he discovered there was a sideboard that contained some of the finest spirits, he poured a measure of brandy into a cut crystal glass then resumed his seat. The dancing flames in the hearth had a hypnotic effect, and all too soon, thoughts crowded into his mind once more.

What the devil did he want for his life? It was a question that usually invaded his ponderings around this time of year without fail.

For far too long, he hadn’t any ambition.

Yes, he’d fought in the war, but there’d been no accolades or heroics.

There’d been no invitations to grace a hostess’ table or make up numbers and certainly no calls by members of the beau monde to talk about his adventures…

for there were none. Even his stint at being a jewel thief had been accidental instead of purposefully thought out.

Just when he’d despaired that he would always be second best or passed over entirely, he had been invited into the Rogue’s Arcade, and a wealth of opportunity had opened for him.

Suddenly, he had connections where he’d had none before.

He finally had a family where he felt a true belonging without questions; no one bothered him about his marital status.

There was nothing except friendship and gratitude that he was there.

Yet all those men were steadily being matched and married.

They were starting families, and while that made them a threat from the ongoing criminal network assembled and run by Lady Stover—a countess driven by greed for power and revenge—they had found peace, fulfillment, acceptance, love—things he’d always wished for himself.

There was something to be said of that.

He blew out a breath then took a sip of brandy. As the liquor burned in his throat, he went once more into his thoughts. He wasn’t a stranger to having the occasional woman in his bed; a man had needs after all, but as of yet, no one had touched his heart or stirred his soul.

Until he’d met Charlotte. What was it about the quiet countess that attracted him and held his attention captive?

She wasn’t dynamic in her bearing, and neither was she one of those overblown and wicked widows.

With her reaction to his kiss, he almost thought she’d been sheltered even though she’d been married and allegedly bedded, yet she had an air of innocence about her that belied that assumption.

To say nothing of the longing he’d spied in her eyes, and the vulnerability that showed in her expression when she thought he wasn’t looking.

How interesting.

Then the silence pressed upon him, which was odd, for he hadn’t had that since coming beneath this roof.

He glanced at the darkened windows. The winds had finally died down, which meant the storm was moving off.

With a look at Charlie curled in his customary spot on a sofa, he couldn’t wait to see what the landscape would appear like on the morrow.

How long would it be before the roads were passable, and how long would it take to dig out the traveling coach to even have it repaired?

When the countess came unexpectedly into the room, he sucked in a breath and then scrambled to his feet. “How lovely to see you, Charlotte.” The way her name felt on his tongue before he said the word was incredible. “And Cleo too. How are you, my lady?”

The cat, of course, ignored him. When she spied the beagle, she went immediately over to the sofa and took a swipe at the dog’s tail. Charlie yelped. A glaring match followed before Cleo hopped onto a chair nearby.

It seemed everything was normal between them.

“Uh…” What the devil should he say that would break through the sudden frost forming between them? Perhaps the truth was the best measure. “Let me offer my apologies once again. It was outside of enough to kiss you in such a fashion.”

“Do stop.” She waved away his explanation. “You caught me off guard. All is well between us.”

“Except that you’ve taken to avoiding me again,” he said, resuming his seat when she settled onto the opposite sofa.

Then he noticed she’d changed clothing. The white gown with the embroidery work suited her body and hugged her feminine curves in all the right places leaving the tops of her breasts quite the temptation.

Additionally, there was a red satin ribbon tied in her upswept hair that gave her a young air but also begged him to come closer. “You are lovely tonight, by the way.”

“Rogue.” Yet there was pleasure in the word. “My actions are none of your concern.” When she fished out a piece of fabric that held an impressive amount of embroidery that depicted a vase of wildflowers, his eyebrows soared in surprise.

“You have quite the skill with a needle. That’s wonderful.” He gestured toward the handiwork with his glass.

“Thank you. It keeps my hands busy and my mind from wandering.” A blush stained her cheeks. Clearly, she wasn’t used to being complimented. “I may fail at many of the things a ton woman should excel at, but I have always had an affinity for embroidery.”

“I rather doubt you could fail at anything.” Except flirtation. In that, she simply had no courage, and it was rather endearing.

“Then you would be wrong.” When she glanced over at him, amusement twinkled in her eyes.

“Originally, I wanted to take up knitting, but my mother forbade it, saying it was something the lower classes did.” She shrugged.

“So I learned how to embroider at the age of ten.” A slow smile curved her lips, and all he could think about was kissing her again.

“When I was sixteen, I became enamored of a certain viscount in the ton . But I was far too shy to talk to him. So I embroidered his initials in the corner of a man’s handkerchief.

Then I had it wrapped in pretty paper and left it for him at one of the balls we’d attended together that Christmastide. ”

“Lucky gentleman.” Alex took a sip of his drink. “Did you tell him who it was from?”

“Goodness no! I was too embarrassed.”

So adorable. “How did he react to such a valuable gift?”

She huffed. “He looked at it with a curl of his upper lip then gave it to the friend he was with. Said he didn’t have a use for such a pedestrian gift.”

“I’m sorry that was your first experience with flirting.” Some men were horrible. “Most people would have been humbled by such a gift, and for what it’s worth, handkerchiefs are always needed.”

“I appreciate that.” For long moments, she drew her needle through the fabric, creating yet another piece of the picture. Then she shivered. “Even though the wind has died, I feel a chill. Will you excuse me for one moment so I can run upstairs and fetch a shawl?”

He nodded. “Are you sure you aren’t merely self-conscious about wearing such a lovely gown in my presence?” Slowly, he was beginning to understand her.

Another blush took possession of her cheeks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Then she stood and exited the room, more quickly than he could gain a standing position.

Sooner or later, she would need to own up to her needs and desires, as well as what she wanted from her life. The same as he did. And frankly, he couldn’t wait to try and convince her it might be him that she wanted.

Charlotte didn’t truly need the shawl. What she did need was a temporary escape from Alexander’s presence that seemed to fill the entire room. Something about him beckoned to something within her, and if she weren’t careful, she might throw caution to the wind to answer that call.

But now that she was in her rooms, she might as well grab the pretty white shawl that matched the holly embroidered gown.

Then, feeling a bit whimsical, she went to the clothespress where she kept her jewelry.

After opening one of the drawers, she rooted through the underthings to pull up a false bottom her husband had built into the piece.

Once she retrieved a flat, square-shaped wooden box, she brought it over to her vanity table and opened it…

…and then stifled a scream, for the priceless diamond necklace her husband had given her, the one that would secure her future if need be, was missing. The worn black velvet inside the box was as empty as a starless night.

Who would have taken it? And when? Her maid? Surely not. The butler? Did he even know about the hiding place? But then, servants knew everything about the people who employed them, right? If it had gone missing recently, then it would still be in the house, for the storm had kept everyone here.