The Seduction of Lady Charity: The Baxendale Sisters Book Four Page 15

  Her heart thumped with pity for him. “In the unlikely event it is true, would you come back to Tunbridge Wells?”

  He raked his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. I only know one thing.”

  “What is that?” she whispered.

  “I love you. I want you with me,” he said simply, his eyes searching hers. “And hope you will take a chance on the future with me.”

  “Oh, Robin, of course I will…”

  “Hear me out, Charity. I must say this before my feelings for you overwhelm me.”

  She bit her lip and waited.

  “I admit I was jealous of Gunn.” He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “It made me want to keep you to myself. But no more, Charity. I would be proud to support you if you wish to continue painting portraits, especially as I intend to work on my manuscript again.”

  A cry of relief broke from her lips. “I’ve known that I loved you since that day in the library when I was sketching you. Before you kissed me,” she admitted, her cheeks growing hot.

  He clasped her hands tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Ah, I know.” He nodded with a rueful look. “I was an officious pain in the neck, wasn’t I?”

  “And I was obstinate.”

  “No, you knew what you wanted, and you were prepared to fight for it. I admire you so much for that. But even if you become a duchess, it will in no way prevent you from living your dream. You are familiar, of course, with the Duchess of Devonshire?”

  She nodded, wondering where this was leading. “The duchess certainly lived life to the full.”

  “I refer to her political campaigning, her large salon of impressive literary and political personages, and the novel she wrote.”

  “Yes. The Sylph.”

  He gave her hands a little shake. “Don’t you see, Charity? Should you be a duchess, you can do anything you wish. If you want to paint portraits, who is going to say you can’t?”

  “But you, Robin, are you sure you would be happy with that?”

  “I will, but I won’t deny I’ll guard you closely. I am a jealous fellow.”

  She laughed and shook her head.

  “I love and adore you, sweetheart. I was a fool not to tell you that from the first. You are everything I want in a lover, a companion, a wife, as well as my duchess, if it should come to that, and, if we are blessed, the mother of my children. Will you marry me, now, with a special license and accept whatever comes in the future?”

  Her vision blurred with tears. “Yes, darling,” she murmured. “I hope I can be all those things to you. I shall certainly try.”

  “You have no need to try, my love.” He rose, pulling her with him. “You need only to be yourself and remain at my side. I’ve been so lonely without you.”

  He crushed her to him, his mouth grazing her earlobe. “You’ve made me a very happy man,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. He tenderly kissed her nose and her eyes, and then his mouth found hers. It was so wonderful to be in his arms. She returned his kisses, almost swooning with the pleasure of having him close after months of missing him so dreadfully.

  A knock at the door broke them apart.

  Father stepped into the room. He chuckled. “If the matter is resolved, perhaps some champagne in the parlor is in order?”

  “Most appropriate, thank you, sir. Your daughter has consented to become my wife.” Robin guided Charity to the door with a hand at her waist. “I remain in your debt for your excellent advice.”

  Charity stopped, suddenly suspicious, watching her father disappear into the parlor. “What advice did my father offer you?”

  “A matter between men, sweetheart,” Robin said with annoying vagueness.

  “You won’t get away with that, sir. I shall make you tell me,” she said with an affectionate glance.

  “You are more than welcome to try, my love.” His hands slid down over her waist and cupped her bottom. Pulling her against him, he kissed her again.

  Charity gasped and placed a hand on his chest to push him away. “Robin, the servants!”

  “A dangerous business kissing the woman you love; it unleashes all sorts of yearnings.”

  “Really?” She watched him fascinated, her tongue tracing her bottom lip where his touch remained.

  Robin took hold of her arm. “We must go into the parlor before I lose all control.”

  The family toasted Charity and Robin’s coming nuptials with flutes of champagne. “It’s going to be a wonderful Christmas,” Mama exclaimed. “Our family has grown so large.”

  “Charity and I wish to marry in two weeks,” Robin said. “I know I am asking a lot, Lady Baxendale. No doubt you want more time, but this business could drag on for months. I’d like us to be married before the outcome of the inquiry becomes public. I hope there’s no objection.”

  “A wise decision, I think,” Father said.

  “I look forward to sharing Christmas with you all,” Robin said. “And should it be possible, please consider celebrating the Christmas season in Northumberland.”

  Mama dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “That sounds lovely, but it doesn’t really matter where we are, as long as we’re all together.”

  Charity smiled at her. Mama was so tactful; she wouldn’t dream of mentioning that she had it all prepared.

  “How did you find your house?” Father asked Robin. “Are you pleased with your tenant?”

  “Mr. Mason is a fine gentleman. I would be happy to introduce him and his wife to you. By the way, there was a fire there recently, burned the stables down.”

  Robin spoke of how the gypsies had saved his horses.

  “The Romani?” Charity put down her glass and jumped to her feet. “I forgot. I have something for you.”

  He looked at her, surprised. “What is it?”

  “Wait.” She left the room and hurried upstairs. Snatching up the gift from where it lay on her bureau, she returned to the parlor.

  “A gypsy woman asked me to give you this.” She pressed the posy into his hand. “She called it lucky heather.”

  He took it and smiled. “I believe it has already spun its magic.”

  “Robin rescued her son from drowning,” Charity explained to her parents.

  “Well done, Harwood,” Father said.

  “I was lucky to be there at the time. But they have repaid me admirably.”

  Father raised his glass. “Welcome to the family, Harwood.” He stood. “When you have a moment, I’d like to show you that book in my study.”

  Charity imagined the details of the settlement were to be discussed.

  Mama hurried to the door. “I must write to your sisters with the news. Come with me, Mercy. You can add a few words of your own.”

  When they were alone, Robin held Charity’s hand. “There’s no reason why we can’t marry in the church here in Tunbridge Wells, if I secure that special license. I shall ride over there this afternoon and see the vicar before I return to Northumberland.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Now I must go and speak with your father.”

  Charity sat quietly thinking of what lay ahead. She should be relieved that Robin might return to Tunbridge Wells, for their life would be simpler with her family close by, but despite all that, she found she wasn’t. For his sake, Charity prayed that the claim would prove false. If he were happy, she would be happy too.

  Some hours later, she blew a kiss to Robin as he drove away. He planned to go to the archbishop’s office in London Commons for the special license and thence to Northumberland and would return in two weeks’ time.

  Turning to go inside, she realized that her father had been most magnanimous, ignoring the gossip spreading through the ton. She considered herself more fortunate than her sisters, who had struggled to convince him to allow them to marry the men of their choice. It seemed as if Father’s illness had softened him and made him more conciliatory. Either that or he just liked Robin. And she couldn’t blame him for that.

  Chapter Twenty-One


  With Charity’s sisters all at home, the house filled with chatter and laughter again. The morning wedding was to be held at their church in Tunbridge Wells. Honor and Faith had come with their husbands and children. The next day, Hope arrived with her handsome French husband, Daniel, and promised to be Charity’s attendant.

  When Charity and her sisters gathered in the parlor, she told them how Robin had once described them all as roses. “He believed you, Honor, to be a very deep pink rose, Faith the palest pink, Hope somewhere in between, and Mercy, a sweet pink bud about to bloom.”

  “How very poetical Robin is,” Faith said with a laugh.

  Hope gave a blissful smile. “I think it’s a lovely thing to have said.”

  Honor nodded with approval. “I shall wear my rose pink kerseymere.”

  “My blush pink is still in fashion,” Faith said. “If it still fits!”

  “Of course it will,” Charity said. “You’re as slim as ever.”

  “Working about the farm does help.” Faith smiled. “But my figure has increased in some areas.”

  “Mercy, you have the perfect dress,” Charity said. “The one with the pink rosebuds embroidered on it.”

  “Wait a minute,” Hope said. “What rose are you, Charity?”

  She widened her eyes. “A white one.”

  Honor chortled and grinned at her. “You shall have to wear a white wedding gown.”

  Charity wrinkled her nose. “You know full well how much I love color, Honor. You always had to fight to choose colors other than white.”

  Sitting next to her on the sofa, Faith nudged her shoulder. “Robin must like you in white, or he wouldn’t have viewed you that way.”

  “Very well. Then I shall add my red shawl and Mama’s ruby necklace,” Charity said.

  Hope, sitting on her left, poked her in the side. “Not the shawl! And Mama’s pearls!”

  Charity sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Instead I shall carry a bouquet of autumn leaves. The copper beech turns a wonderful shade of red.”

  Mercy giggled.

  “White lilies!” Hope cried, poking her again.

  When Charity doubled up, laughing, her four sisters converged on her and shook her until she agreed to a simple white posy.

  “We five will make a perfect display,” Hope said dreamily. She jumped up. “I must tell Daniel.”

  “All the men are out,” Charity said. “They’ve ridden over to Brandreth Park.”

  The cries of hungry babies sounded in the corridor, and the nurse was admitted into the room with the twins in her arms. Faith jumped up. “Excuse me, ladies. It’s meal time.”

  Honor hurried after her. “I promised to take Lucas for a walk. He wants to play with Wolf.”

  Hope remained by Charity’s side. “I have always liked Robin,” she said. “He is a thoughtful, intelligent man, much like Daniel.”

  “Yes.” Charity sighed. “Robin is everything I always wished for in a husband.”

  “Do you need to know more about what occurs between men and women, dearest?”

  Charity laughed. “I believe you, Honor, and Faith have left me with little doubt as to what will happen.”

  Hope giggled. “I suppose we have.”

  “Enough to make me eager to experience it,” Charity said with a grin. She caught her breath at the thought.

  Hope leaned back against the cushions with her hand on her belly while Charity studied her, detecting a quiet joy in her eyes. “You seem to be cherishing a happy secret, dearest. Is there something you aren’t telling us?”

  Hope grinned. “I don’t want to announce it until I am sure. It’s early days, and with Mama caught up with Faith, we decided to wait.” She laughed. “But I’m not sure how long I can keep Daniel silent.”

  “Oh, Hope! How exciting. Mama will be thrilled.” She paused as a thought struck her. “Will Daniel want the baby to be born in France?”

  Hope shrugged. “I have yet to broach that subject with him. But he is an entirely reasonable man, who will want me to be happy.”

  Charity spent two days shopping with Mama in London. They purchased a gift for the bridegroom, an amethyst and gold fob at a Regent Street jewelers, and, in the Burlington Arcade, found the wedding gown. It was of ivory satin trimmed with Mechlin lace.

  “I must say I’m agreeably surprised,” Mama said as the carriage took them home. “You gave in to wearing white without a murmur. I expected to have a fight on my hands.” She patted Charity’s arm. “You are becoming more sensible.”

  Charity smiled and said nothing about the charming coquelicot-colored dress trimmed with gold braid that she’d bought when her mother’s back was turned. She intended to wear it as soon as the service was over. Honor would approve.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The wedding was a simple affair attended by members of the Brandreth family, and friends and relatives of the Baxendales, who lived in the environs. One of Robin’s neighbors from Northumberland had also made the trip. The pale stone church had been garlanded with ribbons and perfumed white roses sent from Robin’s glasshouses.

  Robin had pinned a white rose to the lapel of his dark blue tailcoat. Seated in the front pew with Francis, he asked his friend for the second time if he had the ring. When it was produced once more, Robin turned to smile at the Baxendale sisters, a bevy of roses dressed in pink gowns, from the palest to the darkest hue.

  “I say, they’re a good-looking family,” Francis said, gazing at them. “You are marrying the prettiest,” he said quickly, but not before Robin caught him looking at Mercy in her rosebud-embroidered gown.

  The organ music swelled, and everyone turned to Charity, looking beautiful with a coronet of white rosebuds in her hair from which a delicate, waist-length veil floated, as she walked gracefully down the aisle on her father’s arm. Robin waited before the altar, hardly able to believe she was his, that they were embarking on a life together, filled with excitement and promise. The cloud that still hovered over their future vanished at the sight of her, despite a letter arriving from Mr. Sprog to advise him that he’d found the banns had been published in the town hall ten days before a wedding was performed, in accordance with French civil law. It now seemed a fate accompli. But with Charity beside him, Robin would find contentment wherever they were.

  The vicar, flanked by two witnesses, cleared his throat. A soft murmur swept the church as Charity joined him. She was breathtaking in her white gown, just as he’d imagined her, her skin as pale and flawless as rose petals, her smiling eyes the blue of a summer sky.

  She stood beside him, and her father bowed and stepped away to sit with her mother. The nuptials were solemnized. They spoke their vows, and Robin placed the ring on her finger.

  The service concluded, Robin pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, took her hand, and they withdrew to the vestry for the signing of the register. With the final seal on their marriage, they emerged and walked up the aisle, nodding to those smiling at them from the pews. Her sisters, a bevy of beauty, all wore the diamond bracelets Robin had given them. Outside, many of the villagers had gathered. As the church bells rang out, Robin took Charity’s hand, and they ran to the barouche to be driven home for the wedding breakfast.

  “My beautiful love.” As the carriage, decorated with ribbons, jerked forward, Robin kissed her again, more passionately, and a cheer went up in the crowd.

  ****

  At Highland Manor, autumn foliage arranged in big urns stood in every corner of the ballroom, which was now packed with guests. Charity and Robin greeted each of them in turn. Her father appeared to stand very tall and gazed at her proudly. Mama smiled and clutched her damp handkerchief. Charity swallowed, trying not to cry too. She’d made them happy and proud of her when she feared she never would.

  Her sisters kissed her, Edward hugged her, Vaughn grinned, and Daniel gracefully kissed her hand as she and Robin made their way to the long table to be seated. A large wedding cake graced the table. Champagne corks popped. Music playe
d. Father had brought an orchestra from London. Delicious food was served, after Mama went into a frenzy of preparation with Cook, and afterward, there were speeches, a moving one by her father and an amusing anecdote by the best man, Lord Bellamy.

  Charity’s heart was full. She cherished every moment, and when she danced the waltz in her husband’s arms and gazed into his warm grey eyes, her passion for him made her thoughts fly ahead to when they would spend the night together. Despite the uncertainty that awaited them in Northumberland, she felt lightheaded with joy.

  Her sisters, in their pink gowns, and their husbands all took the floor and smiled at her as they swept past. Mercy, too, was dancing with the best man.

  “I believe Lord Bellamy is a little smitten with Mercy,” Charity said.

  Robin turned his head to view them. “I’ve never seen him quite so taken. But his interest in a lady doesn’t usually last very long. I shouldn’t worry.”

  She gazed up into his grey eyes. “I cannot worry about a thing. Not while I’m dancing with my handsome husband.”

  He grinned, and his hand at her back settled her close. “That’s odd. I seem to be suffering the same complaint. And I only have eyes for one lady, despite the veritable cloud of beauty surrounding us.” His gaze smoldered. “I can’t wait to kiss you. Properly.”

  “Have you never kissed me properly?”

  “No indeed,” he said gruffly and turned her swiftly and decisively as the music swelled.

  She closed her eyes and felt as if she was floating.

  The music ended, and Robin took her hand to lead her from the dance floor. Clasping her husband’s hand, she smiled at the guests. Chaloner sat with his mother. Lavinia had not come. Charity was determined to find out why.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was late afternoon when Robin and Charity waved goodbye to her family as they stood in the driveway. After the carriage drove out of the gates, she settled on the squabs close beside him, and the sweet perfume of roses enveloped him. Attar of roses. She’d bathed and changed into a carriage gown the color of cherries and wore a cream wool fur-collared cape and a little fur hat. His body stirred at the sight of her. She looked as delicious as the fruit.