Highest Stakes (53 page)

  Charlotte's face flushed, but her expression remained guarded, raising further questions in Lady Susannah's mind.

  "Are you not pleased, Charlotte? I should have thought you would receive this exceptional news with singular delight."

  "You misunderstand, my lady."

  "Do I? After our fascinating conversation the other day, I had grown to suspect you have a
tendre
for your guardian, but if I am so shamefully mistaken, I beg you to enlighten me."

  "It's not about Philip at all, my lady."

  "Is it not? I have begun to deduce as much." Her tone was arid. "What
is
this great secret, Charlotte? Why did Philip bring you here, and what precisely is the nature of your relationship? I believe I have earned the right to know. I do
not
solicit favors of old friends lightly, and having done so for your sake, you had best be forthcoming." Lady Susannah's eyes flashed in growing pique.

  "I implore your forgiveness for my mistrust, but for so long I have had no one in whom to confide."

  "I am yet far from appeased."

  Charlotte sighed. "But where to begin?"

  "I suggest at the beginning." She tapped her foot impatiently.

  "'Tis such a long and convoluted story, madam."

  At this, Sarah interrupted with the tea tray. Once the maid departed, the oh-so-injured Lady Susannah continued. "We have the entire afternoon at our disposal."

  Charlotte considered how she could best summarize the high drama of the past months. She took a great breath and began. "'Tis a very tangled web, madam, but suffice to say, I am in love with a certain captain, who until very recently was a close friend of
your
Major Drake. My uncle, who was my
true guardian
, refused our union, which compelled us to elope."

  Lady Susannah's annoyed countenance softened. "How foolishly romantic," she murmured.

  Charlotte continued. "It proved very foolish indeed after what followed. For reasons known only to himself, Philip aligned himself with my uncle against us. The result was a horrible duel."

  "Oh my dear!" she exclaimed. "How very tragic for you!" Filled now with compassion, she surrounded the girl in a maternal embrace. "And your captain?" she asked in trepidation.

  "He yet lives, though severely injured."

  "Dear, dear girl! What pain you have suffered! But why would Philip have done such a thing? 'Tis not at all in fitting with his character, I assure you."

  "Nonetheless, he has caused our suffering. It was Robert whom I had stolen away to see the morning you caught me, and it is want of his fate that torments me." She gazed sadly into the other woman's sympathetic eyes.

  "Dearest, have you seen your captain?"

  "Yes. I sat by his sick bed, held him, prayed, and wept over him, but when he finally recovered enough to know my presence, he would hear nothing from me!"

  Charlotte burst into tears, and Lady Susannah kindly offered her shoulder and lace-trimmed handkerchief. She allowed the girl to weep a respectable period before interrupting.

  "I only wish you had confided in me earlier, but as it stands, I have played my best cards. As to Philip's role, I remain unconvinced he is the irrefutable villain. I know him, Charlotte, and absolutely refuse to believe the worst of him. There must be much more to this tale."

  "There is indeed much more, Lady Susannah." Charlotte paused. "Philip Drake is my husband."

  "Your husband?" She paled.

  "In name only, my lady. We were wed under extreme duress. There is no love lost between us, I assure you."

  "I don't understand how this should have come about, Charlotte."

  "Since you will not believe him the villain, I would rather Philip recount the rest to you. He no doubt has a vastly different perspective from the tale I would tell."

  "Then I will press you no further, but I pledge to ferret out the entire history from Philip in good time. Do not dismay on that account. A man discloses much unawares, my dear, if one's methods are subtle." Her smile was one of firm resolution, but she knew Philip Drake was not so easily led as she would have once believed.

  "As to your captain, does he know your heart, my dear? Most times, comfort to a man in hopeless circumstances can come only from the woman who loves him. Love has been known to sustain a man when all appears lost. The best succor for him may be your love."

  "If he would only listen to me. He is angry, bitter, and hurt. He feels betrayed. He refuses to understand that I acted only out of necessity and that my heart is unchanged."

  "You give up the fight too easily. There are other weapons at your disposal."

  "I don't understand."

  "Mayhap he needs more than just your words to believe your heart. Go back to him, my dear. You will know what he most needs from you."

W hen Lady Susannah accompanied Charlotte to the military
hospital early that evening, Charlotte was relieved to find Trooper Wiggins at the gate.

  "I regret to advise you ladies that no visitors be allowed after dark." Peering closer, he recognized Charlotte. "So, it is you again."

  "Yes, and I have brought with me the captain's aunt."

  "Mrs. Merring," Lady Susannah interjected.

  "The one you said was elderly and infirm in Chelsea?" the trooper asked with skepticism.

  "My health is much improved, and I am not so very elderly." Lady Susannah answered, regarding Charlotte ruefully. "Might we have a brief word with Captain Devington?"

  "But 'tis after dark, ma'am," he protested.

  "Surely there can be no harm, and I am prepared to recompense you for your discretion," Lady Susannah replied.

  The Trooper bristled at the intimation of a bribe. "A guard who relinquishes his post or lapses in his duty faces charges, ma'am."

  "One could never suggest such a fine and upstanding soldier as you would ever shirk his duty, Captain," Lady Susannah purred. "Your dedication is admirable and shall surely take you far in your career. If we only had more men like you, Captain…"

  "I'm no captain, ma'am, leastwise not yet. I suppose since Dr. Pringle has allowed the lady before…"

  "Dr. Pringle, you say? Dr. John Pringle?" Her face brightened. "But I am well acquainted with the surgeon. He attended my late husband during an episode of gout suffered one summer in Edinburgh. Is he about?"

  "Aye, madam, buried in his books to be sure."

  "Then could you inform him of my presence?" she inquired sweetly, giving Charlotte a bold wink.

  With matters clearly in the woman's competent hands, Charlotte slipped through the gate. Remarking no additional guards, she cautiously ventured to Robert's room. With only moonlight illuminating the chamber, Charlotte had to adjust her eyes before she took in the shadowy figure sitting by the window.

  Creeping silently, she approached from behind, whispering his name. "Robert."

  He turned with a start. She registered elation, but it was promptly checked.

  "What are you doing here, Charlotte? Or should I say… Mrs. Drake?" He pronounced the name with a snarl.

  "Robert, please. I have come to explain. You don't understand the circumstances. Nothing has changed between us."

  "Nothing changed? The devil it hasn't!" he cursed and clumsily took to his feet. "You wed another and bloody well claim nothing changed? Do you take pleasure in tormenting me, or are you touched in the head?" He gripped her arm painfully and propelled her three paces to the door. "Leave, Charlotte. Just leave!"

  Refusing to give up, she spun around to face him. "But you don't understand how it is!" Tears burned her eyes. How could she make him understand? Make him believe her? She was desperate to break through the barrier he had erected between them.

  "It is all just an illusion, Robert.
It is not a real marriage
between Philip and me. I belong to you and only you. Heart and soul, I have been only yours."

  Robert clenched his jaw. "You have been only mine, heart and soul? That's lyrical," he snarled. "I retain your whole heart while poor Philip gets only your body."

  Charlotte struck his face with a vicious slap and then gasped at what she had done.

  He flinched, but his accusing eyes remained hard as flint.

  How could these be the same eyes that once had beheld her in love? "Why can't you believe me? I told you, I belong only to you. I won't let you push me away again." Tremulously, Charlotte reached for his face, tracing the hand print she had left.

  "No, I cannot believe you." He moved in closer, pinning her to the door.

  This was not the man she knew. What had she done in coming here like this? This was not Robert!

  "Somehow I cannot be persuaded that Philip would deny himself," he said with rasping breath that hotly grazed her cheek.

  His eyes raked hungrily over her, and he remembered his self-sacrifice the first night they shared in Doncaster, when he had stiffly propped himself in the corner rather than dishonor her. He had watched her that night, guiltily transfixed by the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts while she slept. He remembered how acutely he had craved her.

  Later, when they had again shared sleeping quarters, sometimes so close he could breathe in her scent, her nearness had nearly driven him mad. More than once he had left his bed rather than succumb to the stirrings she evoked.

  And in his recent feverish delirium, he had dreamed of her. In his mind he had lived their wedding night, slowly undressing her, stroking her smooth skin with lingering caresses, and lavishing her with warm, open-mouthed kisses while she responded in blissful pleasure to his every touch.

  "How was your wedding night,
my love
? Did your heart and soul cry out in agony or in ecstasy when Philip took you?" He laughed caustically then took her lower lip in his teeth and kissed her savagely.

  Robert had kissed her many times before, and Charlotte had found exquisite pleasure in the tenderness, but there was nothing tender in
this
embrace. He pressed against her, spearing a hard thigh between hers, holding her captive against the wall. His kiss was fierce, angry, rough in its intensity.

  Charlotte froze, trembling violently in her growing doubt and fear. This was not what she had expected, not what she had prepared for! She almost cried aloud.
No. I must not be a coward! He needs to
know me in this way, or he will never believe in my love.

  As if reading her panicked thoughts, he abruptly pulled away. His pupils were dilated and face flushed; he panted heavily.

  "Leave me, Charlotte. Just go." His voice was hoarse and contemptuous. Turning his back on her, he strode to the window and transfixed a sightless gaze outside as if he waited for the click of the latch to pronounce her departure.

  Humiliated, hurt, and her eyes blurred with tears, Charlotte hastened to leave, thankful of escape from this stranger. She opened the door and looked back a final time at the man she had believed she loved. She hesitated, her mind clearing just enough to question what had happened.

  If he truly believed in her betrayal, why had he stopped? If he believed she had given herself to Philip, why had he not taken his revenge? Was it all a lie? His behavior only a sham to push her away and make her believe he no longer cared? Perhaps he was not so changed as he would have her believe.

  Charlotte closed the door quietly and waited. With the click of the latch, Robert's body racked with unsuppressed emotion.

  Her heart wrenched, and she advanced swiftly, catching him

unawares, and wrapped her arms tightly about his waist, binding him to her. Enclosed in her unexpected embrace, Robert finally gave himself up to her.

  Charlotte rained kisses on his face and moved to whisper in his ear, "You have failed, Robert. You can never deny my love."

  Robert groaned his surrender and took her into an incendiary embrace that ignited them in mutual need. Closing her eyes, Charlotte drank in the sensation of his warm breath and hot tongue exploring her neck, her shoulders, her breasts; the intensity of his ministrations left her gasping. He touched her, and she awakened, her senses bestirred and intuitively responding to every hitherto unknown sensation.