manipulate him, curse it! “There are plenty of men in the ton who will pay you fulsome compliments. And more if you should wish it.”
Charity stamped her foot. “I don’t want fulsome compliments. I don’t want other men. I want honest affection.
I want to be cherished, and …” — she gave a sob — “… loved. If that is impossible, then I shall remove myself from under your roof.”
Robert rose, his desire still an uncomfortable fact, tightening his trousers. His annoyance grew. He would not be dictated to in this fashion. “Then that is a consideration, certainly.”
Charity gathered up the rest of her things and left the room.
When the door shut behind her, Robert went to pour himself a brandy. He sat for a while brooding about her breasts and how soft they felt to touch. He tried to move his thoughts from the image of Charity’s full lips in a pout, her fine, straight brows scowling, and her full breasts heaving in indignation as she stamped her foot. Magnificent. But she wanted too much from him, she wanted his very soul. He was a private person. He never wished for that and but for the need for an heir, he hadn’t wished to marry. And now, it seemed, to have peace in his own house, or even make love to his wife, he must become one of those unfortunate husbands led about by leading strings.
Oh, no, not he. He didn’t know what love was, and this feeling that his heart had split in two was surely just the result of frustrated desire. Intolerable!
He put down his glass so violently the brandy sloshed onto the table and banged the door as he stormed out of the room.
Chapter Five
Charity scurried up to her chamber scarlet-faced. Relief swept over her when she encountered no servants on the stairs and managed to close the door of her chamber before a sob rose in her throat. She had wanted Robert to make love to her, desperately. She loved him with a passion that would last a lifetime, whatever happened between them. The strength of her feelings made her gasp in surprise. He did not deserve her love, but she had glimpsed the fine man he could be, when he wasn’t retreating from any expression of love. If she allowed him to treat her badly from the beginning, their relationship would never rise above that of so many of the ton, an indifferent arrangement to suit both parties.
It would not suit her to live that way. She threw off her gown, and paced from one end of the room to the other, wondering what was best to do. In the end, she fell upon the bed, her tears dampening the pillow, with the solution still no clearer.
She woke to a shadowy room. She’d slept for hours, and night approached. Leaving the bed, she rang for Brigitte. A possible answer to their problems had come to her when she was half-asleep. Robert carried some sort of hurt. Might it have something to do with his estrangement from his mother? She remembered when they’d met in the ballroom, how on edge he had been! She might gain some knowledge of how to improve things between her and Robert from Lady Charlesworth.
Tomorrow, she would go and see her. She and Robert had an engagement to attend that evening. She wondered if he would appear at dinner and how things would be between them.
“Good evening.” Robert walked into the salon, cool and handsome in a sapphire-blue silk taffeta coat embroidered in silver thread with a froth of lace at the neck and cuff. His blue eyes glowered silently at her. He was angry, she could see by his stiff bow. Well, wasn’t she entitled to be angry too? He motioned to the crystal carafe on a silver tray. “Would you care for a sherry before dinner?”
“No, thank you.”
He offered her his arm and she took it as tension tied her shoulders in knots. What could she say to him that would make the situation between them better? She couldn’t think of a thing. The light touch of her fingers on his arm made her head swim. Her mind seemed obsessed with every detail of their lovemaking. How wonderful
Charity stamped her foot. “I don’t want fulsome compliments. I don’t want other men. I want honest affection.
I want to be cherished, and …” — she gave a sob — “… loved. If that is impossible, then I shall remove myself from under your roof.”
Robert rose, his desire still an uncomfortable fact, tightening his trousers. His annoyance grew. He would not be dictated to in this fashion. “Then that is a consideration, certainly.”
Charity gathered up the rest of her things and left the room.
When the door shut behind her, Robert went to pour himself a brandy. He sat for a while brooding about her breasts and how soft they felt to touch. He tried to move his thoughts from the image of Charity’s full lips in a pout, her fine, straight brows scowling, and her full breasts heaving in indignation as she stamped her foot. Magnificent. But she wanted too much from him, she wanted his very soul. He was a private person. He never wished for that and but for the need for an heir, he hadn’t wished to marry. And now, it seemed, to have peace in his own house, or even make love to his wife, he must become one of those unfortunate husbands led about by leading strings.
Oh, no, not he. He didn’t know what love was, and this feeling that his heart had split in two was surely just the result of frustrated desire. Intolerable!
He put down his glass so violently the brandy sloshed onto the table and banged the door as he stormed out of the room.
Chapter Five
Charity scurried up to her chamber scarlet-faced. Relief swept over her when she encountered no servants on the stairs and managed to close the door of her chamber before a sob rose in her throat. She had wanted Robert to make love to her, desperately. She loved him with a passion that would last a lifetime, whatever happened between them. The strength of her feelings made her gasp in surprise. He did not deserve her love, but she had glimpsed the fine man he could be, when he wasn’t retreating from any expression of love. If she allowed him to treat her badly from the beginning, their relationship would never rise above that of so many of the ton, an indifferent arrangement to suit both parties.
It would not suit her to live that way. She threw off her gown, and paced from one end of the room to the other, wondering what was best to do. In the end, she fell upon the bed, her tears dampening the pillow, with the solution still no clearer.
She woke to a shadowy room. She’d slept for hours, and night approached. Leaving the bed, she rang for Brigitte. A possible answer to their problems had come to her when she was half-asleep. Robert carried some sort of hurt. Might it have something to do with his estrangement from his mother? She remembered when they’d met in the ballroom, how on edge he had been! She might gain some knowledge of how to improve things between her and Robert from Lady Charlesworth.
Tomorrow, she would go and see her. She and Robert had an engagement to attend that evening. She wondered if he would appear at dinner and how things would be between them.
“Good evening.” Robert walked into the salon, cool and handsome in a sapphire-blue silk taffeta coat embroidered in silver thread with a froth of lace at the neck and cuff. His blue eyes glowered silently at her. He was angry, she could see by his stiff bow. Well, wasn’t she entitled to be angry too? He motioned to the crystal carafe on a silver tray. “Would you care for a sherry before dinner?”
“No, thank you.”
He offered her his arm and she took it as tension tied her shoulders in knots. What could she say to him that would make the situation between them better? She couldn’t think of a thing. The light touch of her fingers on his arm made her head swim. Her mind seemed obsessed with every detail of their lovemaking. How wonderful
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