Page 39 of A Marriage Most Convenient

Her father patted her hand and nodded as if to get her to continue reading.

For so many years, Edmond had tried to convince himself that Charlotte was vain and spoiled, when in reality she’d been protecting her father. Much in the way he’d protected his mother. His wife wasn’t spoiled or vain. No, she was giving, loving, selfless, and amazing, and he was going to spend the rest of their lives doing what he could to spoil her.

In the meantime, he called for a footman and made arrangements to call for the best doctor. This was his family now and he had funds to help make the remainder of Charlotte’s father’s time as comfortable as possible.

CHAPTER 16

They had left the Reed townhome a half an hour earlier. Charlotte kept her father quiet until the new doctor arrived and was able to give him a light dose of laudanum. Her mother had wept and hugged Edmond fiercely when she found out he’d paid for constant care for her husband. If nothing else, perhaps the rest of the Reeds could get a decent night’s sleep.

Edmond had only been in his own bedchamber for a handful of minutes—enough to remove his jacket, cravat and waistcoat. His linen shirt hung open as he scrubbed a hand down his face. Then, there was a quiet knock on the adjoining door between his room and Charlotte’s.

“Edmond?” Her voice was quiet as she opened the door, though she didn’t fully enter the room.

He stepped over closer. “Do you need something?”

“May I come in?” she asked, still standing in the partially opened doorway.

“Yes, of course.”

The sight of her as she fully entered his room made his mouth dry. She wasn’t wearing anything particularly revealing, merely a night rail, but the worn fabric had seen better days. The sleeves had been removed, revealing the graceful lines of her arms. She was so damned beautiful it nearly hurt to look at her. That black-as-night hair hung in a single, heavy braid over her left shoulder. Her blue, blue eyes watched him carefully. And a slight pink stain marred her otherwise flawless ivory cheeks.

Her eyes trailed the length of him, staring for a breath too long at his bared chest and abdomen. He turned away from her to remove his shirt and drape it over the chair in the corner. “Your mother said you read at a young age,” he said.

“Yes, I did. I believe she said I was around three years old. My grandmother, my mother’s mother, lived with us at the time, and she would spend hours reading to me.”

He turned to see her shrug, her eyes were locked on the Persian rug.

“I suppose I picked it up from her. Or maybe she taught me. I really don’t remember much, other than she loved books and had a fondness for biscuits.” She looked up at him then, her smile wistful.

He nodded at her. “I can’t remember if I showed you the library when I gave you a tour of the house, but I hope you know that you’re welcome to anything in there.” He scrubbed at the back of his neck. “Along those lines, I need to establish a line of credit for you to use as you see fit. I suspect you’d like some new clothes. Or if you want to redecorate any of the rooms.”

“Thank you for what you did for my father, getting the doctor and paying for the new care. It will help them so much, Edmond.” She shook her head. “I don’t need any new dresses.

“I have the funds, Charlotte. For whatever you need.” Why was he feeling so damned awkward? This morning he’d been ready to tell her the truth about Jack, tell her how he felt about her. But today had been too much. She’d endured enough. His confession could wait another day.

“Would you...” She bit down on her lip, then seemed to steel herself before speaking again.

That bite on her lip and pleading look in her eyes tightened the knot in his stomach.

Her shoulders rounded back, which in turn, jutted those perfect breasts of hers forward. He knew they were perfect. He’d cupped them, felt the weight of them in his palm, the hard tip of her nipples scraping across his skin. He’d tasted them, suckled at her until she’d been writhing with desire.

“Would you hold me for a little while?” she asked.

Not sex, that’s not what she wanted right now. She needed comfort. Of course she did. He was a damned fool, an insensitive idiot for thinking she’d come in here for pleasuring. She’d endured an ordeal with her father and shared her family’s biggest secret in the process.

He swallowed. “Of course.” He held a hand out to her, then led her to the bed. He laid them down, on top of the coverlets. This was about comfort, not desire. He was a tall man, taller than plenty of men, and Charlotte, with her long, lithe body, fit him perfectly. She curled up against him, laying her head on his bare chest. He inhaled the scent of her. That curious blend of roses and lavender. He wanted to continue to breathe it in, imprinting it into his nose so that every breath from now until his last would be of her.

Absentmindedly, he ran his palm up her bare arm. “Are you all right?”

She released a breath and the warm air flickered across his chest. Not helping his lust or the beginnings of his erection. He could feel his cock growing heavy against his thigh.

“Yes,” she said. “I feel so selfish. For so long I worried about leaving him, and then once we got married, I became completely absorbed in myself. I am embarrassed to say that I have not checked in with my family for several days.”

“Charlotte, he is not your sole responsibility. And we’ve had a tumultuous beginning to our marriage. I apologize for that. I could have made things easier for you.” He squeezed her body tighter to his.

“His most recent doctor had told us that his death was likely approaching. He has difficulty swallowing and breathing at times. If he gets a lung sickness, it would likely kill him.” She exhaled slowly. “I know it’s probably time. He’s suffered for so many years. And my poor mother. But I don’t suppose one is very ready to say goodbye to their Papa.” She sniffed.

“He retired from Society long ago, and for the most part, people don’t even ask about him, except to inquire about his health. That’s been our story for years. That he has failing health. He’s nearly two decades older than my mother so I suppose no one is surprised.”

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