Unrivalled Regency: A Gallant Gamble Part 6

"I was going to enter the steeplechase. If I won it, I would send Annabel the winnings. As her close family have abandoned her at least she could then make a home for herself rather than having to depend on her aunt, who I understand is a harsh and unforgiving woman."

Geoffrey frowned in confusion.

"But you are already rich? Why can you not send her money now?"

The young Lord laughed bitterly again. He looked utterly miserable and defeated.

"Being the eldest son doesn't give me the key to the door of the vault. My father still hangs on tightly to the purse strings and only seldom loosens the ribbons enough to sprinkle around a thin layer of gold. My own allowance is such that I am forced to account for every penny. If I do not present the proper receipts, the exact same amount as the difference in accounting is deducted from my next quarter's draft, however, it is fortunate that I am generally lucky at the gaming tables and can supplement my income with a small amount each quarter. Though not necessarily the most n.o.ble way to carry on, I absolve myself by sending all of my winnings to Annabel. I've not spent a penny on anything frivolous such as clothes and the like for over a year."

Eyebrows raised in surprise, Geoffrey glanced down at Latham's apparel. Sure enough, his coat was a little frayed at the cuff and not of the same cut as Geoffrey's own. The style must have been at least a year out of date and fitted the young Lord ill where the man had lost so much weight. It appeared that Charles Latham was telling the truth. He turned the subject back to the forthcoming horse race.

"But however lucky you are, you could not be a.s.sured of winning the steeplechase. From what I have heard, the course is of a most difficult nature. Only the best horses and riders ever complete it."

Latham nodded.

"I know, but it was a chance I was willing to take until I heard that you will be riding the Prince's prize stallion. I had hoped that I would catch the Prince's eye, not necessarily riding Vanquish but maybe one of his other mounts. The course is long and the going unpredictable. Every horse stands as much chance as another so long as they stay on their feet and the riders remain in their saddles. My own horse is nowhere near the calibre to complete such an undertaking and I have no other recourse to the family stables. My father would never allow it, fearing some injury to one of his animals."

Geoffrey snorted into the last of his wine.

"I am rather surprised that the Prince is so keen to have me race his favoured horse without having seen me ride so much as a donkey. I have a horrible feeling that if I lose the race, I might also lose my head." He ran his finger between his cravat and his neck as the cloth felt as though it was about to strangle him.

It was Latham's turn to snort with stifled laughter.

"I believe his previous stable master was sent to Ireland after last year's debacle. I understand that the man now grows potatoes and lives in a straw hut, though I have no idea if the rumours are true."

The music had stopped again and dancers began to leave the floor. A flushed cheeked and smiling Charlotte came towards Geoffrey, but she hesitated when she saw his companion. Latham immediately gave her a deep bow and reiterated the apology he had voiced to Geoffrey earlier. Charlotte glanced at Geoffrey who after taking another hard look at Latham, gave her a slight nod.

She dipped a quick curtsey as Latham took her hand and brushed his lips against the back of it.

"Thank you for your forgiveness. It is more than I deserve."

Charlotte faced him.

"I am pleased that you have seen fit to make amends, however your treatment of me was depraved. I am not sure that we will ever be able to be friends."

Latham looked down sorrowfully.

"That would be more than I can ever hope for, but I will strive to make sure that I will always be there for you should you ever need my a.s.sistance. Never hesitate to ask. If it is within my power to help you I am only too willing to aid you." He gave her a deep bow, nodded to Geoffrey and walked with sagging shoulders, away from them.

Geoffrey watched the man as he made his way out of the ballroom. He never once looked up and spoke to no one as he traversed the wide hallway and began to mount the stairs.

"He appears to be genuine in his remorse. I don't think I have ever seen anyone more miserable."

Charlotte nodded.

"I wonder what happened to make such a transformation. I don't think that Lord Rookwood has had the same epiphany."

Geoffrey shook his head.

"No, probably not. Latham said that it stemmed from the realization that a man was hung due to his own lack of morals. Even though Giles survived, he knows that his actions contributed to the arrest of an innocent man and he cannot forgive himself. He's battling with his own reputation though. Rumours are rife about his misdemeanours. Even Coalport had heard some of them, though it now appears that they were much exaggerated. Latham says that he is trying to make reparations for his previous behaviour, but his lack of money isn't helping him salve his conscience. His father sounds as though he is a complete miser. The elder Lord Latham is keeping his heir on very short purse strings. If it hadn't been for what he did to you and Giles, I would almost feel sorry for the man."

Charlotte shot Geoffrey an annoyed glance.

"d.a.m.nation! I am sorry if that is true too, I was going to ask him if he would be interested in the diamond." She wafted her fan in front of her face in consternation.

He bent his head and spoke close to her ear.

"I would have thought you could have set your sights a little higher now that you have been introduced to the Prince. Maybe he will empty the country's coffers to own such a prize jewel. He could add it to the collection that he already wears on his fat fingers."

Charlotte let out a giggle before she whispered back.

"I already asked him and he says that his purse is somewhat depleted at the moment, well depleted for buying jewels, that is. I tried to persuade him that his mistress would love it so much that she would do just about anything to lay her hands on it, but he says that she'll do just about anything anyway, so it wasn't so much of a temptation."

Geoffrey's eyebrows shot up as he stood up and roared with laughter. Several people turned to stare at him and it was some moments before he could speak.

"You never did! Dear G.o.d, Charlotte, you never fail to amaze me. You are the most forward girl I ever met."

Charlotte dimpled up at him, taking his words as a compliment, and pressed on while she was ahead.

"Well, you are going to think me even more forward now. You do realize that the waltz has just been announced and as your name is on my card, I believe you are to be my partner." She held out the crook of her arm invitingly.

Geoffrey shook his head.

"You know that was Olivia's idea so that you could keep your waltzes for the Prince. You should go and find him. Maybe you can use some of that forwardness to think of another reason he should buy the stone."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed hold of his hand.

"You really should try and keep up, you know. The Prince left ages ago, not long after the first dance and as your name is on my card, you are not getting out of it. It would be the height of rudeness especially as you have danced with half the ladies of the ton already this week. Come on. It's only three steps and a bit of a twirl. You'll get it in no time."

Chapter Six.

Pa.s.sion and Pokers He twisted and turned in the sheets for the umpteenth time before he gave up trying to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes she was back in his arms, her slender waist under one hand, fingers entwined in the other. His thigh had touched hers with every twirl and when he had nearly stumbled at the startling sensation that had ripped though him she had pressed herself even closer, keeping them in time with the music rather than the unsteady beat of his heart.

Sweat beaded on his brow as he sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. The two dances that she had insisted he honour had completely undone him. The scent of her hair, the creamy skin of her shoulders, the slightness of her waist...and when she smiled so radiantly up at him his heart suddenly burst into flame as he realized that he loved her. G.o.d, he loved, loved, loved her.

And he wanted her.

His manhood throbbed painfully. It had been a constant ache for what felt like months; since the night Starlight had been born. After dancing with her tonight it had become almost impossible to bear. He wanted to be buried in her, taking her with such pa.s.sion that neither of them would be able to move for days...He wanted her so badly that he wasn't sure that he should be anywhere near her.

He huffed out a frustrated breath and walked to the dressing table where he poured himself a measure of brandy, relishing the burn as he flung it down his throat. Coalport had not drawn his drapes for the night and Geoffrey hadn't bothered when he had arrived in his room two hours earlier. Now he walked to the window and threw it open. The cool evening air s.n.a.t.c.hed his breath but he was glad that it cleared his head. He stared down into the formal garden for a long moment before his eyes slowly wandered back up the building, towards Charlotte's bedroom window. There wasn't even a c.h.i.n.k of light showing between her closed drapes and he let out a deep sigh as he realized that she probably slept soundly, unworried by dreams of dances and heated glances, of his love and his breaking heart.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the window frame. It was all so impossible. He could never have her, should never have let himself get in this deep. What had started out nearly two years previously as a mild infatuation with the pretty, vivacious girl, had morphed into something wild and heady, something he was in no condition to control. He needed to leave London now, go back north, and marry one of the girls from Oakley. He could take his pick as there were many who would consider him a catch. They would raise a dozen babies and he would be so busy keeping a roof over their heads that he would never have time to think of Charlotte ever again.

He let out a grim laugh as his rampaging pa.s.sion suddenly wilted at the thought of bedding any other woman. Children were something he would never have with another woman. It clearly wasn't going to be possible.

But what of children with Charlotte? His body surged again at the very thought. In his mind he could see her belly swollen with his child. Something in the middle of his chest tightened and he couldn't fill his lungs with enough air. He staggered back from the window and closed his eyes, whirling towards the bed as his heart broke with the thought of never seeing her again. That seemed almost more impossible. He couldn't imagine his life without her in it, didn't even want to consider that as a possibility, but if she married someone here in London it would become a reality. There was no way that he could see her if she was the wife of another man...And if she bore his child too? G.o.d! He couldn't bear to think on the possiblility. It would tear his heart in two.

A roar of anguish rose up in his throat and he only managed to contain it by stuffing the corner of his pillow into his mouth. Frustration tore at him, forcing him to confront his feelings. He'd never backed away from difficulties before. He'd always struggled on, fought his corner and often come out the winner. Why was he conceding defeat before the battle had even started just because she was a highborn woman? She wasn't engaged to anyone, and to his knowledge wasn't enamoured of any of the young beau who had called with their cards. It was only his station and lack of prospects that held her from his reach. His mind worked frantically as he searched for possibilities. He had to do something, couldn't let another man s.n.a.t.c.h her from him without raising so much as an objection, wouldn't let her go without a fight. It was impossible to imagine.

He thought of the Prince's offer, an offer that he hadn't wanted, but was now hard pressed to refuse. A thousand guineas! His pulse began to race. If he won the prize he would have something to recommend him, something that would increase his standing in life, maybe not enough to socialize in the circles that she was used to but enough to keep her from being ostracized entirely. After all, he himself had been accepted well enough these past few days. No one had cut him or been directly rude, though some were willing to try and play him for a fool with their clever speech and fancy words, but those he considered beneath him anyway.

He turned in his bed again and stared up at the canopy above him as he thought once again of the prize money. He knew that he had to go for it. It would be his only chance and he had to take it. Giles would be unhappy but Charlotte was nearly at her majority and as soon as her birthday pa.s.sed there would be nothing her guardian could do about it. Though she always protested that she was never going to wed, he knew that she liked him as a friend. She was a girl in a million and might just say yes if he asked her to marry him.

He smiled at the thought of her walking down the aisle towards him, but then frowned again. Of course, she might laugh her head off at his proposal and dig him in his side with her impossibly sharp elbow while telling him to stop mucking about, but he'd convince her otherwise. He would prove to her that he was in earnest.

He had to. There was no longer another choice for him.

For after feeling the way that she had fit so perfectly into his arms as they had waltzed about the ballroom, he didn't think that he could survive a life without her.

Charlotte sat up in her bed and stared at the closed drapes, wondering what had woken her. She had been dreaming such a wonderful dream that she was annoyed that she had been disturbed, but the house was silent and she shook her head at her over active imagination. She lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes as she tried to fall back into his arms as they waltzed around the ballroom, but nothing happened. All she felt was a strange tightening of her chest and a tingling that made her body itch and throb in the most unreasonable of places.

She felt the heat rise into her cheeks as she blushed at the very thought of what it might mean, and hoped to goodness that Geoffrey would never discover her thoughts on anything so outrageous. He'd only just begun talking to her since the incident with the foal the previous summer. If he ever suspected her wild and wicked urges now, he would be thoroughly scandalized and might never speak to her again.

She blinked back the tears that suddenly sprang into her eyes at the thought. It had been bad enough over the last few months, but now it seemed as though she had regained his regard. It would be far worse if she lost it a second time.

She listened as a sudden m.u.f.fled thump sounded through the wall. The d.u.c.h.ess was clearly having trouble sleeping too. Charlotte looked at the panelling as guilt crept over her. She should have looked in on her friend before throwing herself into her bed.

Olivia had left the ball shortly after Charlotte had danced with the Prince, protesting that she had accomplished what she had set out to do for the evening and blaming a wretched headache on her early departure. She had insisted on Giles and Charlotte staying to the end with Charlotte under Geoffrey's care and with Lady Alder acting as her chaperone, but they hadn't stayed long after their second waltz. The rest of the evening had suddenly paled into insignificance after being held in Geoffrey's embrace.

She could still feel the imprint of his hand on her waist, the heat of his fingers wrapping hers with tender warmth and the decadent press of his muscled thigh against her own through the fine silks of her skirts. His breath had teased the curls piled on top of her head and she had felt the hard wall of his chest when her legs began to give way, so suddenly beneath her. His hands had tightened on her body, searing her flesh and making her heart slam against her ribs as he had caught her to him so that she didn't stumble and fall.

She flung her arm across her heated forehead and huffed out a frustrated breath as she refused to think what she was thinking. She couldn't process what her own body was telling her. Nothing like it had ever happened to her before. Geoffrey would laugh his head off at her if he knew how hot and sweaty she felt now that she was thinking these kind of thoughts about him. The perspiration was positively dripping from her brow.

It was so stuffy and dark inside the bed and she wondered she hadn't asked Louise to leave the drapes open. She threw them back impatiently and climbed from her bed. Her nightgown blew against her body and she stretched her neck into the cool breeze coming in from her open window. She walked towards the fresh air and leaned against the window frame as she glanced down at the formal gardens. A profusion of spring colour caught her eye before her gaze wandered up the angles of the building.

A shadow at the window at a right angle to her own had her pressing herself into the half-closed drapes. She pulled in a breath as Geoffrey's figure was outlined in a shaft of moonlight.

He stood completely naked at the window, his musculature shown in vivid relief as he stared down at the garden. She drew in a long breath and feasted on his muscled glory. He lifted his arms and leaned against the frame, his corded arms and washboard stomach highlighted by the moon's soft glow. Her eyes dropped lower and she held her breath as his masculinity stood rigid against his abdomen. She watched as it suddenly dropped but then pulsed, and grew impossibly larger. The heat that had curled wickedly in her stomach a few moments earlier, grew into searing flames of wild excitement. She took one last glance before she pulled the curtain shut and turned her back, pulling in rapid breaths as her heart jumped violently in her chest.

She'd thought him magnificent when she'd seen his chest while in the stables back at Ormond, now she knew that was only half the story. Either the effigies she had viewed in art or in books from their library were normal and Geoffrey was seriously malformed below the waist, or the books had lied about men in general.

She recalled the horrid little man who had sat below her at the dinner table that night and decided that Geoffrey was clearly a more spectacular form of a normal male. Her mouth went dry at the thought and the strange feeling that had covered her while she lay in bed now concentrated itself below her own waist. The throbbing ache that had felt pleasant before now increased enough for her to feel slightly lightheaded. She grabbed hold of her nightstand before her knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

It took her a few moments to feel normal enough to rise again. Her heart beat out an erratic rhythm as her brain clamoured with the man's name. Geoffrey! It resounded over and over again and she suddenly knew that she was in dire trouble. Had she been so blind as to not see this before?

She forced herself to her feet and made for the door. She wished she could talk to Anne. Giles' wife maintained that she had fallen in love with her husband on the very day that she first met him and Charlotte wasn't sure that the same thing, though until now unrecognised, hadn't happened to her too. Her mind went back to the day she had first seen Geoffrey. His silver grey eyes had examined her intently across the cobbles at Ormond and she had stared back at the man. She had thought that the wild thumping in her chest was due to nerves at meeting new people in new places. Now she wondered if that were true. Had she been harbouring these scandalous thoughts for so long? Her heart blossomed with something unknown, and began a frantic drumbeat beneath her breast as she thought of his rugged good looks and muscled frame.

No wonder the ladies had swarmed all over him at the b.a.l.l.s and parties. When she had seen him talking to the raven haired vulture seated beside him at the Latham's table that evening, her mind had whirled in utter fury. While Olivia searched for a suitable husband for her, the one Charlotte really wanted stood right before her own eyes. Strong, kind, upstanding and handsome, he was perfection personified and the thought of him wanting to be with anyone else quite revolted her.

But Geoffrey, though perhaps valuing her as a friend and helper at Ormond's stables, didn't think anything more than that of her. He had made it perfectly plain that she was nothing more than a girl he had to put up with for the sake of his friends and his job. He had never intimated that he thought any more of her than that, and why would he? She had been so young, far too young for a man in his early twenties to consider, but that was more than eighteen months ago. Surely he saw her as a woman full grown now...but maybe he didn't. Perhaps he still saw her as that young girl who had shown up at Ormond and bossed him around for several weeks. He'd maintained a respectable distance back then and he was still doing it now.

However much she had enjoyed dancing in his arms, and however much he had appeared to enjoy the experience himself, she knew that he would never let it go any further. The poker was still firmly entrenched up...she stopped thinking like that. It was that sort of low behaviour that had alienated him in the first place. She couldn't speak to Anne, but Olivia was a woman who had been in love with her husband for many years before he was so horribly s.n.a.t.c.hed from her. She wasn't so old that she would have forgotten what it was like to be young and impetuous.

She had to tell to someone about her feelings for Geoffrey. She could keep his name a secret and just ask questions in general that would confirm or deny her hopes and fears, and as Anne was unavailable, Olivia was the only other woman she knew well enough to speak to.

Decision made, Charlotte swept up her wrap, slipped it over her shoulders and walked to the door. She had to speak to Olivia and as the noises she had heard meant that the woman wasn't yet asleep there was no point in waiting until morning; she might as well go and ask now. She left her own room and walked the few paces along the corridor before she tapped on Olivia's door gently, turned the handle and stepped quietly inside.

Charlotte shouldn't have been surprised that the layout of the room was somewhat different to her own, but she hadn't had the opportunity to see before now. Olivia had always come to her room. This was one of the superior rooms after all, but she hadn't expected there to be a small sitting room just inside the main door. She had been about to call out Olivia's name when a strange groaning noise and then a male voice caught her attention.

Her first instinct was to reach out for one of the fireside implements that could be seen in the remaining glow from the dying fire, and leap to the older lady's aide, but a small niggle inside her head made her realize that the male voice was somewhat familiar.

Without thinking what she was doing, she crept nearer to the door of what had to be Olivia's bedroom. The wooden panelling was open only an inch but it was enough for Charlotte to place her eye against the crack to take a better look at what she might be up against.

What did meet her eye was so unbelievable that she forgot to breathe, let alone gasp out her shock.

With her greying hair tumbling about her shoulders, her head thrown back and her mouth hanging open in what might have been mistaken for a painful grimace if she hadn't been moaning in what was clearly a most pleasurable tone, Alexander's mother lay on the bed, completely naked. Almost as shocking was an equally naked Coalport kneeling over the d.u.c.h.ess, hips thrusting slowly, almost languorously while he spoke quietly to the woman who clung onto his straining shoulders and thrust her own hips back up at him.

"At last, my darling. It has been an agonising wait for you. Thirty years I have wanted you. I stayed as close as I could even though I knew that nothing could happen. Seeing you everyday tore at my heart, but I never gave up hope and now you are mine. I couldn't believe it when you said that you wanted me. I still can't, but I know that I love you, Olivia. I will love you, as I have always loved you, until the day I die." Coalport spoke in such gentle, tender tones that Charlotte had no doubt of the man's sincerity. What was more surprising was Olivia's reply.

"Oh, Frederick! I knew. I knew your feelings and hated myself for what I put you through, but I could do no other. I loved my husband dearly and I couldn't betray him. It was unkind of me to keep you here. I should have let you go and find love with another, but I was too selfish. I can only hope that you can forgive me. My husband has been gone over three years. I know that he would want me to find happiness again and now I am free to love you in return, but it will not be an easy path for us. Society will be against us. We will have to be strong." The pair kissed pa.s.sionately before Coalport spoke again.

"I don't give a d.a.m.n what society thinks of us. We will strive to overcome the obstacles, but know this, Olivia. After tonight you are mine, only mine. I may be only a servant, but I am also a man and I'll let no other have you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth if that is what it takes to keep you. If we have to leave the country, we will do it. I've waited over thirty years and I can be without you no longer." He leaned down and kissed Olivia's b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

The woman let out a half strangled cry of pleasure before Coalport appeared to stop thrusting. He drove in deeply, closed his eyes and let out a deep groan, the like of which Charlotte had never heard before. He slumped over the d.u.c.h.ess and rested his forehead in the crook of the woman's neck. His shoulders and back heaved as if he had completed some exceedingly strenuous exertion.

Charlotte heard their continued heavy breathing as she tore her eye from the amorous couple, made her way silently back across the anteroom and out into the corridor where she nearly screamed in fright as someone grabbed her and held a firm hand over her mouth as he whispered in her ear.

"Don't yell, it's me." Geoffrey took his hand away from her mouth. She spun around in his arms and whacked him hard on his chest with her clenched fist.

"Ouch! That's for scaring the life out of me. I thought I was about to be kidnapped!" she whispered loudly as she cradled her aching hand.

Geoffrey raised an eyebrow as he rubbed his chest before he reached out and took hold of her fingers.

"Ouch!" she hissed again as he examined her hand.

"Shh! You'll raise the whole household...Looks as though you are going to need to bathe this in cold water. Sorry that you hurt yourself on me. I couldn't sleep and was going to find a book in the library. You practically backed into me on your way out of Olivia's room. Were you checking that her headache is not worse?"

Charlotte shook her hand and stared at it in the dim light.

"Her headache is definitely not worse. In fact, after seeing what I have just seen, I am almost certain that she never had one in the first place. I'd even go so far as to lay a bet on it."

Geoffrey looked at her curiously as he pulled her away from the bedroom door and guided her towards the stairs.

"Tell me about it on the way to the kitchens." He hesitated in confusion for a moment as a thought occurred to him. "I a.s.sume that you know where the kitchens are."

Charlotte shook her head.

"No idea, I'm afraid. I haven't had the time or energy to look, though Mrs. Bottomley always appears from the doorway by the stairs, so it's safe to a.s.sume that the servants work somewhere behind it. Come on, you made my hand hurt so you can search with me."

It was some minutes before they found their way to the very back of the house through a narrow corridor and two more doors. The kitchen was quiet and empty but the stove felt warm. Geoffrey added some fuel to the fire, found a pan and a jug of milk in the pantry and began to heat some water for tea before heading out the back door and filling a bowl with fresh cold water from the pump.

She winced as she dipped her fingers in the water but hid the pain behind her questions.