An English Lord's Love Affair

Chapter 13.7. Double-edged Virtue

   Charlotte had no idea whether her aunt's ceremony in Benedic's bedchamber had "stirred him up" or scared him away. Or even if he had been the spectral rider whom Penelope had seen in the woods that night. She doubted it.

   Why would he risk being seen riding when he wished the world to believe him dead? Unless this was part of elaborate scheme to expose Sir Edward's treachery. Somehow Charlotte thought that an aloof professional soldier like Sir Edward would not be the type to fall for ghostly theatrics.

   Still, if not Benedic, then who was the mysterious rider in the woods? Not Damon. Not James, whom Aunt Penelope would have recognized. A friend visiting Edward? A stranger passing through the village? Charlotte burned with frustration that she could not contact Benedic directly to caution him.

   He might as well have been truly dead. With every hour of silence that passed she began to fear that she would never see him again. He seemed to think that his quest for vengeance would protect him.

   Over the next few days she thought about nothing but Benedic, what he planned to do. At church while the person's thundering sermon startled the congregation of Chistlebury. Lying across her bed while by candlelight she worked on Bernard's code, sensing she was near a breakthrough. In the overgrown rose garden where she walked for hours on end in a futile attempt to lure her ghost into at least giving her a sign he was safe.

   He was silent, uncommunicative, and when she wasn't angry at him for not contacting her, she worried that he had gotten into trouble and could not reach her. How would she know if he was lying helpless in his tunnel? It was wrong of him not to ease her anxiety.

   More than once she was tempted to send to send for her brother Henry, a master of discretion, to help. Her promise to Benedic stopped her.

   She understood that to a man like him, whose trust in virtually everyone had been destroyed, another betrayal might be the end of any tenderness that had survived in his heart. She would not dare violate his rigid Draconian Code. The passion of his honor was all he had left. It was a double-edged virtue she intuitively respected even if it exasperated her.

   Still, she waited for him. She found herself awakening in the middle of the night, restless, smoldering with the urges he had aroused and left unfulfilled. Unable to go back to sleep, she would pace at her window to scour the misty woods for a sign of him.

   Once or twice, just before dawn, she even waved her chemise at the woods to see if he would respond.

   Four days later her subtle efforts to attract attention worked, although on the wrong man. Lord Sinclair called on her late one afternoon while she was exercising Ares in the apple orchard.

   "Put that dog away, Charlotte," he said as he came up behind her. He was dressed in a white linen shirt and nan-keen breeches, a wrinkled cape hanging over his broad shoulders. His boots were muddy and scuffed. "I can't even pretend to be romantic when I'm afraid the beast is going to take a bite out of my bum."

   Charlotte laughed, tugging the dog's leash closer to her side. She had forgotten how boyishly simple James could be, how informal he was compared to the bucks in London who tried to impress her with their lineage and elegant clothes and only ended up looking like prissy fools.

   "He hasn't bitten my bum once, for your information," she added.

   "Then he's not dangerous, only stupid," he said, a sparkle in his eyes. "If I were your dog, I'd—"

   He stepped toward her. Their gazes locked, and Charlotte realized with a pang of alarm that he was working up the courage to kiss her. She wasn't shocked by the prospect, no one could see them in the high-walled garden, but Ares suddenly sprang into a half crouch and growled.

   James emitted a yelp of mock alarm and jumped back behind a gnarled apple tree. "Hey! That wasn't my bum he's snarling at. That was another part of my anatomy I cherish even more dearly."

   Charlotte bit her bottom lip in amusement. "Do you think I might start a new fashion for chaperone?"

   "Do you think you could tie him up so I can talk to you without fear of castration?" James asked half jokingly.

   "Don't let my aunt hear you using such frank language."

   He grinned. "Your aunt was the one who sent me out to find you."

   Charlotte glanced in surprise at the house. "She did?"

   "My parents have invited you and your family to come to supper at our house tonight. Tell me you'll accept." He took her hand and brought her fingertips this lips. "Please, Charlotte, please. I shall throw myself in the stream if you don't."

   Charlotte felt a sudden impatience to be by herself again. What was wrong with her? Not long ago she had found James good fun. Why did she keep comparing him to a shadow lover who represented everything she should resist? Why did he suddenly seem like an overgrown schoolboy and not a man? Specifically a dark, intense, and disconcerting one. "I really will have to ask aunt—"

   "Charlotte!" Her aunt called out from the parlor window. "Ask James if we are expected at six or seven this evening."

   He chuckled. "Well, there's your answer." He kissed her knuckles before he released her hand. "Leave the beast behind tonight if you don't mind. I aim to take a nibble of you myself."

   Charlotte watched him swagger out of the garden, his wrinkled Cape twisting around his waist. When he reached the gate, he stopped to blow her another kiss. She raised her hand to wave back only to be distracted by the sound of Ares whining low in his throat.

   She laughed as he tugged eagerly against the leash. "Stop it, Ares. You aren't going to eat James or anyone else for that matter. You'll have to behave—"

   She broke off, slowly lifting her head. The dog was not facing in James's direction at all but toward the woods. As if he recognized someone she could not see.

   "Strathmere?" she whispered, her pulse accelerating. "Benedic, is that you?"

   She ran to the far end of the orchard, Ares bounding at her side, but there was nothing to arouse suspicion in the woods that she could see. The peaceful shadows looked undisturbed. She couldn't hear even a leaf rustle, only the hopeful pounding of her own heart. Whoever had been there was gone.

   Ares sat obediently at her side.

   Paulina began shouting at her from the house. "Have you seen my new gloves, Charlotte? I hope that dog of yours didn't eat them."

   She released her breath. "Damn you, Benedic," she said into the silence that mocked her disappointment. "Damn you, you devil."

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