Page 50 of The Virgin Duchess

“If it aids you or provides a bit of comfort,” Frederick continued to stroke her, softening the tension that still remained in Charlotte’s spine, “I have seen Selina for a time now, and I can say objectively that she appears to love her friends. I do not believe she would break your trust by allowing that information to get out. Didn’t you say that she was very protective of Amelia during her debacle with Richard and the scandal sheets?”

She nodded against his chest. “I did. And she was. Selina kept everything that we said about the situation to herself. When she learned about what our own friend, Isaac, had done to Amelia, she was the first of us to say that it would not leave the room.”

At last, Charlotte looked up at Frederick, and he offered his soft smile, the one that lifted the left corner of his mouth and made his deep eyes flicker with warmth.

“That is quite the show of faith, Charlotte. While I know that she does enjoy gossip and carrying on, it does appear that protecting her friends takes precedence.”

“Thank you. You are right. Selina does care for us all more than drumming up something to put in the scandal sheets herself. Still,” Charlotte swallowed, thinking about innocent Kitty and how her life would forever be changed if word got out about her parentage, about how her own standing might be affected, “I am nervous. I am just so terribly nervous about what might happen.”

“I understand, Charlotte. I do. You know of the situation with the Baron, and I can attest to the weight that it places on her soul to carry around such a burden. Perhaps speaking to Selina will give you another kind ear to hear your concerns.”

She couldn’t deny that the idea of at least not having to hide anything from her friend sounded appealing. Secrets were tiresome, tedious things that were like the plague to carry inside you, stealing your vitality.

“Perhaps.” Charlotte looked up at Frederick, her shoulders rising and falling.

“You are stronger than you think, especially right now. Charlotte, dear, the Duchess of Mullens, where is that vibrant spirit of yours? I’ve been put in my place several times by your cunning tongue. Surely you can find that resilience to be courageous and face your friend.”

Chuckling, Charlotte nudged Frederick back playfully. “Cunning tongue? Oh, indeed. Your jesting will not serve me.”

“I am most serious!” Frederick swept her up into his arms, the feeling too wonderful and accompanied by a growing heat. “I know you can be brave, as wild as you can be when you so choose.”

“Can I now?” Her thoughts turned darker, the sensation of being right up against her husband’s firm chest doing things to her. “And what brave things are you thinking of?”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The mood in the room shifted, and Frederick’s eyes tracked Charlotte. She could feel each inch of skin they landed on, and the billowing inferno in her blood rumbled everything inside her.

“I believe you know exactly what I speak of.” Frederick brought her face closer to his, hovering his lips over hers. “But if you require the words…”

The pause hung heavy and profound between them as Frederick deposited a gentle kiss on her lips, working them down the curve of her jaw and to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. He breathed against her skin, his lips now poised at the shell of her ear.

“…I was referring to when thatcunning mouthof yours claimed me so thoroughly that I released everything I had across your tongue.”

Her pulse rushed for the sky, Charlotte’s legs clamping together as the low burn in her core started up. Frederick could play her like an expert musician, finding and plucking her chords so that she was a melody constructed only for him.

“Frederick,” it was a breathy moan, and Charlotte didn’t care, giving herself over to the need, “yesss.”

As she hissed out the word, he sank his teeth into the flesh of her neck, biting playfully. The barest hint of pain spun her mind, and Charlotte’s humming arousal stepped up higher.

They tumbled back onto the bed, landing on their sides. Frederick was quick to crawl atop her, plying her with kisses from her lips to her neck to the delicate seam of her chemise where it poked out just barely from behind her dress. His hands roamed over her body, trailing down her shoulders to push down the fabric there and then to her hips. Charlotte groaned low as he gathered up the skirts covering her legs, bunching them up so that she would be exposed for him.

Exposed…oh Lord, the door.

She craned up onto her elbows, looking down at Frederick breathless. When he glanced back at her, that devilish grin on his face, Charlotte forced herself to speak the words instead of reaching for him and claiming another kiss.

“The door is not locked.” Charlotte gestured with her head at it. “You should?—”

“What if I didn’t?” Frederick smiled all the harder—sinful and delicious.

“Are you serious? What if one of the maids or?—”

“I am aware dearest. But,” Frederick held Charlotte’s stare, shoving more of her skirt up so that her thighs tingled with the rush of cooler air around her skin, “what if I didn’t?”

The concept was such a departure from the few private moments they had shared, but if Charlotte were honest with herself, she was intrigued by it. The notion increased the heat in her blood, and she nodded back at him with her own smile, biting her lip.

Frederick went right back to work, moving the layers of fabric that covered her out of his way. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to take things to their final destination, but her husband didn’t appear to be asking for that.

For the first time, Charlotte thought that she might just allow herself to see where this led and make her decisions in the moment. It was exhilarating, and the fact that someone might discover them was this novel proclivity that filled her with both mortification and arousal.

---