Lord of Pleasure (18 page)

Hyde Park, Rotten Row
hours later

Alexander tightened his gloved hold on the leather reins of his horse and veered closer toward Caroline, who quietly rode on her own horse beside him. Like him, she hadn’t breathed a single word since they had left the townhouse for their morning ride. Truth be told, he didn’t know who was more miserable. Caroline or him.

“Good morning, Lord Hawksford! So lovely to see you out and about.” An older lady, whose name he knew but which eluded him at the moment, waved her lilac silk handkerchief in his direction from her polished barouche as they caught up to his moving horse. A young girl stiffly sat beside the woman, adorned in a bright pink embroidered muslin morning gown with full upper sleeves and ruffles. The girl’s oversized matching pleated bonnet framed a long and miserable plain face and blond curls.

“This is my beautiful and only daughter, Lady Cornelia.” The older lady gestured with the handkerchief toward the young girl. “Tis her first Season. And it has been a good one, at that. So many offers.”

How he bloody wished the
ton
would simply all hang themselves. By their pennants, as Caroline had once so brilliantly stated. It was due to these sorts that he was mindlessly miserable and would continue to be miserable for at least another eight years. Until all his sisters had been married off.

Alexander gave a curt nod in the direction of the young Lady Cornelia, whose cheeks were now almost the exact color of her gown. And though the girl desperately tried to smile up at him from beneath the shade of her bonnet, it appeared as if she were painfully straining into a chamber pot.

Yes, well, and on that note…

“It was a pleasure. Good day to you both.” He then nudged his heels into the sides of his horse, to quicken the horse’s stride, and moved on. As far away from their barouche as possible and into the crowd of other moving horses and carriages.

Caroline urged her horse forward to keep up with him, the long white silk veil that was attached to her black top hat flapping out behind her. She glanced over at him. “Why, Brother dearest,” she teased, lowering her voice, “I do believe you just let your future wife ride away. Society certainly doesn’t get any more nice and respectable than that.”

He grunted. “I’m not in the mood to entertain marriage-minded petticoats.”

She sighed. “You’ve been in a foul mood ever since that night in the cottage. And what is worse, you barely say anything anymore. You’re not still angry with me, are you?”

“No. Of course not.” He simply didn’t feel like talking. For he feared he’d eventually end up on the subject of the one person he didn’t want to think about: Charlotte.

His sister was quiet for a long moment, the thudding hooves of both their horses and all the others filling the air around them. She sighed. “Mary hates all the new gowns you’re forcing her to wear. Last week, she officially stopped eating to prove that point and intends to start planning her own funeral.”

Leave it to Mary to resort to morbid tantrums. “I doubt she’ll resort to starvation. She hasn’t missed a meal, or a second helping, since she was six.”

Caroline muttered something then finally veered her horse dangerously close to his. She leaned toward him from her sidesaddle position and quietly hissed out, “Alex, how can you force Mary to be something ashe isn’t? Or turn me into something I am not? I understand the need for appearances and respect them, believe me I do, but our home is the one place where we can be ourselves. The only place.”

He stared straight ahead of them, glancing at the scattering of trees lining the road where various people stood off to the side watching them pass. “I thought the purpose of this ride was to take in air. Not words.”

Although he tried to remain indifferent to Caroline’s statement, helplessness choked him. It was the very same helplessness he felt every time he thought about Charlotte.

“I don’t like the person you’ve become,” Caroline went on, lowering her voice just enough to appease him. “None of us do. And I know for a fact that Father would have never approved. It appears you are one of them now. Censoring everything and everyone around you for your own purposes.” Caroline veered her horse back to its respectable distance and said nothing more.

Alexander shifted his jaw. For the truth was, they were born unto the ultimate privilege with the ultimate form of responsibility. There were consequences for not following the rules. As Caroline was seeing firsthand. And by not establishing some of those rules inside the house, one could not readily establish the discipline needed to survive outside of the house.

They quietly continued on the designated dirt path, the clattering of hooves, the endless din of male and female voices, and the chirping of birds whirling all around them. All of it meaningless.

“What on earth is that woman doing?” Caroline shifted on her horse, staring out somewhere down the road. “Fresh from the country, you suppose? Or is she riding on an invisible horse?”

“An invisible…what?”

A shout and the whinny of several horses on the riding path before them summoned his focus. Up ahead, through the throng of endless carriages and people on their horses, he glimpsed a woman marching along the edge of the carriage path, ignoring the shouts flung at her and the passing horses and barouches that veered to get around her.

Although the woman’s back faced him and she wore a bonnet that covered her hair, her fitted bombazine gown, her slender physique, and petite height told him without question who it was.

Charlotte.

Alexander yanked his horse to a complete halt in utter disbelief. His stomach flipped. By God. What the devil was she doing? Aside from causing an uproar for walking on the path the
ton
very much preferred to designate for themselves, she was likely to get herself trampled.

And though his pride urged him to simply let her march straight into the Thames for all he cared, a much larger part of him roared at him to do something. Immediately.

“Follow me,” Alexander snapped at Caroline, affixing his top hat more firmly onto his head. “And be sure to keep up.”

Caroline squinted at him. “Keep up? What—”

Without further explanation, he nudged his heels into his horse and steered himself straight between two carriages. He galloped forward, moving swiftly left and right between tight spaces. All the while, his eyes were trained on Charlotte as she continued to march down the side of Rotten Row.

Why was it that no matter how bloody hard he tried to remove her from his thoughts and from his life, she always managed to reappear?

Glancing over his shoulder, he rushed his horse into a small space alongside the road before another set of carriages and horses came upon him. He gritted his teeth and urged his horse in Charlotte’s direction. Her slender back was still to him, her skirts dragging behind her on the path.

Alexander looked behind him again to ensure there were no oncoming carriages. He galloped forward. When she was a mere few feet away, he slowed his horse down to a walk. Then pulled up right alongside her.

Charlotte marched steadily on as if he and his horse weren’t even there. And oddly enough, she was muttering something to herself.

He leaned down toward her and brought his horse to a complete stop. “Charlotte. What are you doing?” She jerked to a halt, snapping her head up at him. Her dark eyes, which were shaded by the wide brim of her bonnet, snapped up to his face. She stared up at him, clearly stunned. Her pale face now flooded with a burst of color.

Her full lips parted into a hesitant smile. “Alexander,” she whispered up at him in disbelief. “How…what are you…”

Seeing her beautiful face again not only made him realize how much he had truly missed her, but also how much he had suffered since he had last seen her. And he couldn’t help but wonder: Had she even thought about him? At all? Had she missed him? At all?

She set her chin. “I apologize, Lord Hawksford,” she firmly announced, “but fury compels me on. I bid you a good-day.”

She turned away, gathered up her skirts from around her feet, and started marching down Rotten Row again. But at a much more pronounced pace.

What the devil was she even talking about?
He
was the one who had the right to be compelled by fury. Not her!

“Charlotte!” He moved his horse after her, bringing himself alongside her once again. “You aren’t supposed to be on this path. You do know that, don’t you?”

She marched on, steadily staring straight ahead. “I know full well that I am not supposed to be on it. Which is exactly
why
I am on it. What I have come to understand in these past few hours is that there is absolutely no point in following the rules anymore. We all die in the end anyway.”

And he thought
he’d
been a loose fish since they’d gone their separate ways. Alexander straightened in his saddle and scanned their surroundings both in front of them and in back of them.

Men and women were craning their necks to look at him and Charlotte as they all clattered by. Some slowed their carriages or their horses so as to get a better view, raising eyebrows and lowering chins.

He might as well wave, for he was officially embroiled in a full-fledged scandal. Which meant, hell, he might as well finish it off with complete panache and put himself out of his own misery.

Alexander tightened his reins and galloped forward, then settled his horse at a slow trot beside her. He leaned down toward her again. “Charlotte. I’m going to dismount. The moment I do, I want you to take my horse and ride it back to wherever you are going. Do you understand?”

“Please stop talking to me. You’re making a scene.”

“
I’m
making a scene?” he growled out. “I’m not the one pretending to be a horse.”

Caroline drew her steed alongside him, slowing her pace, and eyed him. “Alex?” She glanced at all the passing spectators who were gawking, then mockingly raised both brows and lowered her chin in his direction. “You do realize that engaging an unchaperoned lady in public, and on the Row, of all things, is not something respectable men do, yes?”

If helping a woman and keeping her from harm was not respectable, then damn them all, he supposed he was going to burn in hell for it and have to let his sisters rely on their substantial fortunes rather than a pristine reputation. For he’d had enough!

If Charlotte wasn’t going to cooperate on her own volition, he was going to damn well
make
her.

After jerking his horse to a complete halt, he threw his leg over the other side and hopped down, landing firmly on the ground with a thud. Striding toward Charlotte, he reached out, grabbed her from behind by her corseted waist, and scooped her up into his arms. Charlotte let out a shocked yelp as he hooked her knees around one of his arms, careful not to expose her legs for everyone to see, and forced the rest of her body against his chest.

Alexander turned and marched them back to his horse, ignoring the fact that people around them were gasping and murmuring at their expense.

Charlotte frantically looked around them, her bonnet bumping his chin repeatedly. “Alexander!” She grabbed hold of his jacket and waistcoat and yanked on it. Repeatedly. “What are you…Are you crazed?”

“Yes. And I have you to thank for it. Though take heart, as it appears we are equally matched.”

He stopped right beside his horse, plopping her back down onto her feet, and glared down at her. The building frustration he felt within him constricted his chest.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he gritted out, grabbing hold of her waist in order to hoist her up onto the horse.

She shoved his hands away and quickly maneuvered around him. “Oh, no. I am not joining
this
parade.”

“My apologies, but you’ve already joined it.” He grabbed her waist again, yanked her back toward himself, and popped her up into the air and into the saddle, settling her sideways. He arranged her skirts around her legs, then rounded the horse and pointed at Caroline. “Take her straight to the house. Serve her tea and let her rest until I return. Above all, do not let her out of your sight, and do not let her leave the house until then.”

Caroline turned her horse closer to him. “What about you?”

He put up a gloved hand. “I’ll walk. It will draw less attention.”

“Less? Is there such a thing?” Caroline grinned. “I can hardly wait to read all the details in the rags. Do you suppose they’ll sketch a picture of me upon my horse?”

“I hope not.” He waved them off. “Go. Take her.”

Charlotte glanced down at him, then tightened her hold on the reins and moved the horse onward.

Alexander stepped off the road, watching as his sister and Charlotte journeyed through the crowds. He blew out an exhausted breath, then turned and marched across the grass.

A group of young men beneath one of the trees hooted and clapped in his direction.

“I say, that’d be the way to do it!” one yelled.

“Can I have a horse the next time you’re out?” another shouted out, laughing.

Alexander shifted his jaw and headed through the grass of Hyde Park toward a path that he knew would eventually lead him home. It was obvious that there was only one respectable thing left for him to do: marry Charlotte. And the sooner, the better.

Charlotte leaned toward the small table before her, which was laden with fruit and pastries, and grasped the yellow and blue porcelain teacup. She willed herself to keep the delicate cup steady, despite the trembling in her hand, and brought its steaming warmth to her lips. She swallowed it, savoring its soothing flavor. It gurgled loudly in her empty stomach.

She lowered the cup to her lap and nervously glanced up at the five young females who all quietly sat in a row on the long sofa across from her. Grinning. As if she were the Queen of England making a personal visit.

Though they all sat at different heights, and wore varying brightly colored morning gowns, some having large, silk bows in their golden hair, they all had the same mischievous blue-green eyes, small, sharp noses, ivory freckled faces, and heart-shaped lips. The elegant lady, whom she now knew to be Caroline, sat on the far end of the sofa, still dressed in her riding habit, black hat, and veil. Her grin had to be the widest. No doubt about it.

Fortunately for her, Alexander’s mother was out on a call, or this would have turned into quite the experience.

“So who died?” the youngest of the girls finally blurted out from where she sat tucked between all of them.

“Mary!”
her sisters exclaimed, some reaching out to smack her white-frocked knees, their grins all replaced by looks of horror.

“Don’t you dare scare her off,” the one who introduced herself as Anne hissed, leaning forward. “Need I remind you, little Miss Morbid, that she is the first female Alex has ever formally allowed into the house since Father’s passing? This may very well be
it
.”

Charlotte let out a nervous laugh, tightening her hold on her teacup.
It
. Yes. Right.

She met Mary’s thoughtful gaze from where she sat and eventually offered, “Twas my mother who passed. Although it is long after my time for mourning, she was very special to me. So I honor her as best I know how. By continuing to wear bombazine.”

Mary rubbed her small hands against her ivory cotton morning gown and nodded. “My father was very special to me, too. Of course, no one here really understands that. They all like to call me little Miss Morbid.”

Charlotte bit back a smile. “I’m certain they understand more than they let on. We all simply grieve differently. I know when my mother finished formally mourning for my father, she continued to grieve for him by wearing lavender gowns. Because he had always loved the color on her.”

Mary was quiet for a moment. “Father didn’t have a favorite color. I don’t think.”

The room fell silent.

Once again, the girls returned their attention to Charlotte. And smiled. Though with a tinge of melancholy and longing.

Sadly, Charlotte knew that particular look all too well. She lifted the teacup back to her lips and gulped the already cool tea, praying that Alexander would return. She didn’t know how much longer she could sit here feeling like a window display.

Anne sighed, plucked up a pastry from off the serving tray before her, and bit into it. “So,” she said in between several thoughtful chews. “Do you and Alex already have plans to marry? Or is this just the beginning of your courtship?”

Mary paused, then furrowed her thin brows at Anne. She leaned far forward upon the sofa and looked down the row of girls on both sides of her. “Now how is that any more appropriate than
my
last question?”

Charlotte let out a laugh, trying not to spill her tea, and set her cup onto the matching porcelain plate before her. If there was any doubt that these girls were related to Alexander, it had long fled.

“Your brother and I are friends,” Charlotte finally offered, not really able to think of anything else to say. “That is all. Good friends.”

Mary pinned her with a more than dubious stare. “Good friends? Yes, and
I
am a Catholic virgin.”

“
Mary!
” everyone exclaimed all at once again.

Caroline removed her riding hat after a few violent tugs and tossed it toward her sister. “Why must you always repeat everything you hear? Really, now!”

A bubble of laughter erupted from Charlotte’s lips at the absurdity of the entire situation. She then burst into uncontrollable laughter. And laughed and laughed, despite the fact that her corset was beginning to make it difficult for her to breathe. She simply couldn’t help it. What was more, it was an unexpected, glorious moment of release.

The girls on the sofa across from her started laughing, too. Clearly entertained by the fact that she was.

Hearing all of their jovial giggles mixed together with her own was utterly intoxicating. It reminded her of the days when she and her mother would laugh until they’d be begging the lady’s maid to unlace their corsets.

“Have you all gone mad?”
a male voice boomed from the doorway.

Charlotte choked back her laughter, bringing it to a gasping halt at the sudden realization that Alexander was back. Obviously, her visit was officially over. She snapped her gaze toward the doorway of the parlor, silence now painfully humming against her ears.

Alexander towered in the doorway, still fully dressed in his well-fitted riding clothes, looking about as furious as he’d been when he rode up to her in Hyde Park. His sharp features and shaven jaw were rigidly set. His green eyes narrowed as he scanned everyone in the room, his impatience practically pulsing out toward them.

He eventually stripped his top hat from his head, scattering his bronzed hair across his forehead, and pointed with it at his sisters. “Upstairs, if you please.”

One by one, the young girls each popped up, curtsied at Charlotte with a quick spread of their colorful skirts, then scattered out of the room.

Caroline snatched up her riding hat from the sofa and rose in an elegant, trained manner. She smiled, her left cheek dimpling. “I’m certain we’ll be seeing more of you, Lady Chartwell.” She winked. “Much, much more.”

With that, she gathered up the train from her riding gown and breezed out of the room with the grace of a queen.

Heaven forbid all of his sisters thought she was going to be a permanent fixture in the household. She was about as permanent in Alexander’s life as a petal was on a wilting flower.

The silence within the room returned. Alexander continued to stand in the doorway, glowering at her.

Charlotte bit her lip and slowly rose, sensing that it was best she leave.

“Stay seated.” Though it wasn’t entirely a command, it wasn’t in the least bit friendly, either.

Charlotte sat back down, trying not to panic at the stark realization that he was not only angry at her for what had happened, but probably also angry that she was in his house. In his parlor. Chatting and laughing with his sisters. When all he had ever meant to do with her was keep her tucked away in the back pocket of his life. For no one else to see or know about.

Alexander set his mouth into a tight, firm line and flung his top hat at the curtained windows. Charlotte winced as it tumbled then rolled back and forth toward one of the corners.

She eyed him, waiting for whatever it was he wanted to say. Or do. He deserved to be angry. She should have listened to him when he asked her to leave the road. But sheer determination to march away her woes and in turn prove to him that she didn’t need him or anyone else, had gotten the best of her.

He purposefully strode into the room, his eyes never once leaving her, and headed straight for her. “Do you have a pact with the devil to destroy the last of my sanity?” he shouted, waving his gloved hand about in the air. “Is that it? Bloody hell, Charlotte, everyone in London knows that particular road through Hyde Park isn’t meant for pedestrians! And it
especially
isn’t meant for unescorted women. Widowed or not!”

Charlotte flinched at every shout that lashed at her ears as equally as it lashed at her heart. In some way, she deserved it. But regardless, she refused to be treated this way. Especially by him.

She scrambled up to her feet, fisting both hands at her sides. “Why are you yelling at me? You were the one that made a scene of it! I was walking, mind you.
Walking
. And last I knew, walking was anything but illegal. Even for a woman! I ask you, why couldn’t you ride by? Why?”

Alexander halted before her, his height and his muscled, domineering presence forcing her to look up into his eyes.

His nostrils flared as he continued to glare down at her. His wide chest rose and fell with each breath he heavily took through his nose, the brass buttons on his waistcoat shifting in response. “Because you were in clear distress, and the very sight of you on that road displeased me. Now. On my way back, I thought about this entire situation, and based upon the gravity of what this may do to not only you but my entire family, we will marry. The sooner, the better.”

Her eyes widened, and her stomach fluttered at the unexpected words. They truly should have been the most joyous, most beautiful words to have ever fallen upon her ears. And yet his tone, his stance, and the wild blaze in his eyes withered them to absolute nothingness.

She shook her head, somewhat in disbelief that she was about to refuse him. Refuse an opportunity that she would have earlier seized not only with both hands, but also with both feet. “No. I’ll not marry you.”

He blinked, the anger in his taut face slightly dissipating. “I don’t think you have much of a choice.”

She glared at him and fought from flaring her own nostrils. “My reputation isn’t for you to save, Alexander. Not that it
can
be saved. It was ruined well enough long before you ever came into my life.”

His anger returned. “You
will
marry me.”

She mocked a laugh. “I am not some servant you can order about. No means no.”

His eyes narrowed. “I see. I was good enough for a frig, but not good enough for marriage. I suppose I should have known you had only one true calling.”

Her eyes widened as she stepped back. By God. He hated her. He truly hated her after what she had said and done that night. It reeked and dripped into every single one of his words. And knowing that convinced her all the more of her decision. No matter how much her heart wanted him, she simply would not have him. Not like this. She had already once married thinking she could change a man. She was not about to make that same mistake twice.

She swallowed, willing herself to look at him. “Forgive me for what I made you feel that night. I was selfishly focused upon my own pleasure, knowing that I would never see you again. ’Twas never my intention to hurt you, Alexander, and I hope that one day you will forgive me for it. Madame shared with me the sort of hurt you’d been through. But I will not let you continue down this path of righteousness and in turn abuse me. Do you honestly think that our marriage will erase what happened today? Do you?”

She waved a hand toward their surroundings. “Nothing will ever erase the way these people feel or think about respectability, Alexander. It is ingrained in them like the root of a tree, and no matter how hard you try to meet their favor by watering their roots, the only thing you’ll ever unearth is misery. For that is what the
ton
ultimately feeds off. The misery of those who happen to stumble. The only reason you are even asking me to marry you is because you’re still seeking the
ton
’s approval for the sake of your sisters. And though I fully understand your concern for them, I’ll not marry into that. I simply will not.”

He sucked in a harsh breath and let it out, the warm husky scent of his breath grazing her forehead. “So what will you marry into? Tell me.”

She snapped her gaze back to meet his heated, intense eyes. “If I have to tell you that,” she coolly replied, “then we need not speak of this again.”

With that, she walked around him and headed straight toward the doorway, focusing on every step. She paused, realizing she hadn’t told him about Madame de Maitenon. He would find out, yes, but she wanted him to hear it from her. So that he knew exactly what she’d been through today.

She turned.

He hadn’t even moved. Hadn’t even put any effort into turning around to look at her.

Which she was glad for. For it would make it easier for her to share what had happened. “Do you wish to know why I was on that road today?” she asked in a low, steady voice. “Because I was mourning the loss of Madame de Maitenon in the only manner I knew how. By breaking respectable rules.”

Alexander slowly turned toward her, his brows drawn together. “She passed?” he demanded in disbelief.

“No.” She tried to keep her voice from quivering, but it was no use. “Not yet. But she may. She didn’t come to class today, Alexander. So I went to her home, frantic, only to discover that she’d suffered a form of apoplexy last night. And what is worse, her granddaughter won’t allow anyone to see her. Although I know Madame needs her rest, I cannot ease my mind or heart until I know that she will be well. In some way, I cannot help but feel betrayed by a woman I haven’t even met.”

“Oh God. Charlotte.” He stepped toward her, his voice drenched in sympathy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She held up a shaky hand, refusing to accept any of it. She didn’t want sympathy from him. “I just did.” She set her chin, vowing to remain strong, at least until she returned to the school. “I’ve been away for far too long and don’t intend to disappoint Madame. At least not in the manner I have disappointed you. I’ve had nothing but the utmost respect for you until you proposed to me today. For even after Chartwell, I firmly believe marriage is worth far more than what you make it to be.”

She then walked out, ready to start anew. Without him. For she refused to accept anything less than what she deserved from this day forth. She would not live in some dark corner of his life, tucked away from his heart or his world. She wanted all of Alexander’s heart. Not a mere, useless sliver of it. She had settled once and she was not settling ever again.