His Willful Bride (Victorian Brides Book 1) Page 4

  He was a decisive, self-assured man, and he had been seeking a bride for some time, but not only were his erotic needs unique, he found nothing interesting or stimulating about the well-behaved, polite young women of society. Charlotte was a maverick. She had spirit and zest, and he discovered she possessed a keen mind and a tremendous curiosity. Her beauty had been instantly appealing, but it was her rarer qualities that had enchanted him. He had no qualms about launching into a speedy engagement, and though he didn’t doubt their relationship would have some tumultuous times, he was eager to take Charlotte home to his estate to begin their life together, and to lead her into his garden of dark, decadent delights. With the earl’s hearty blessing and the business matters in place, Edward was ready to make his formal proposal to the young woman who had won his heart and captured his imagination.

  He had arrived at Kimberwick Hall late morning with a clear idea of how the day would unfold. Assuming his meeting with the earl went as smoothly as he anticipated, after enjoying a pleasant lunch, he would walk the gardens with Charlotte, as was their habit, and when the right moment presented itself, he would propose.

  It had been nerve-racking for Charlotte, sitting at the table and attempting to behave as if everything was normal. Nothing was normal, and would never be normal again! Normal was living in the huge house with her annoyingly strict, cackling aunt, and well-meaning, but incredibly boring uncle. Normal was an endless string of tedious suitors, most of whom had her yawning in the first five minutes. Normal was about to be over, and every minute she had to wait felt like an hour.

  Edward was never tedious. Edward was a mystery, and the more time she spent with him, the more mysterious he became. He would laugh when she thought he would scowl, and he would scowl when she made a comment she thought highly amusing. Oftentimes the scowl was followed by a shaking of his head, and the withdrawal of a small notebook and pen. He would write something, always refusing to tell her what it was, then put it away. The confounded thing was always with him, making itself known by the slight crease it made in his pocket, and she’d fall victim to the strange fluttery feeling in her stomach whenever it appeared.

  Lord Edward Pemberly III was exasperating, witty, frustrating, clever, strict in an oddly appealing way, and never tedious!

  “It is such a lovely day,” Edward remarked as luncheon came to a close. “Charlotte, would you join me? I’d like to go beyond the woods today, and visit the meadow on the other side.”

  “I’d like that very much, Edward,” she sweetly replied.

  As she rose to her feet, Mildred shot Hugo a happy smile, gladdened that the dratted young woman would soon be out from under her roof.

  “Perhaps you should take a parasol,” Mildred suggested.

  “Thank you, auntie, but I like to feel the sun.”

  “We don’t want you becoming overheated, or sunburned,” Edward said, believing her aunt’s suggestion was a good one.

  “I won’t,” she said airily as she rose to her feet.

  “Have a nice walk,” Hugo offered, standing somewhat nervously from the table.

  While his niece certainly appeared to be taken with the dashing Lord Pemberly, he knew all too well that the young woman could be temperamental and capricious.

  “Thank you, sir,” Edward nodded, sending Hugo a grateful smile as he followed Charlotte to the door.

  Entering the hallway, Charlotte turned to walk towards the drawing room so they could exit through the French doors and out onto the terrace, but Edward paused.

  “I’d like to walk the long way around,” Edward said. “Across the front lawns and through the woods from the other side.”

  “Oh, very well,” she replied, and happily turned and headed to the foyer.

  “Are you sure you don’t want the parasol?” he asked as they passed the hall tree. “It’s quite a walk, and the sun is at its highest point.”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” she insisted.

  They set off, walking across the lush green carpet, but about halfway to the woods Edward noticed Charlotte’s cheeks were rosier than normal, and she appeared to be breathless.

  “Charlotte, are you all right?” he asked, slowing his pace.

  “Perfectly fine,” she panted.

  “You don’t look perfectly fine,” he frowned, bringing their brisk gait to a slow amble. “Should you have brought the parasol after all?”

  “It is warmer than I thought it would be,” she admitted.

  “I think we should rest a minute,” he said firmly.

  “I told you, I’m fine,” she retorted.

  Breaking into a smile, he stopped, pulled out his little notebook, and scribbled.

  “What is that blasted thing?” she demanded, deciding to press for an answer.

  “Oh, dear,” he sighed, pausing to write a second time.

  “I apologize, sir,” she said quickly, feeling the butterflies and sensing the notebook did not bode well for her, “and I am grateful to catch my breath for a moment.”

  “Your apology is accepted,” he nodded as he put the small black book away. “I suspect your little outburst was because you’re not feeling very well. You’re overheated and out of breath.”

  “I suppose I am… a bit,” she said quietly.

  “Do you mind sitting on the grass in your lovely dress?”

  “No, I don’t mind at all.”

  It was another of the many things Edward found appealing. Charlotte was a very beautiful girl, but she wasn’t vain. She had excellent taste and style, but it didn’t rule her. Most of the young women with whom he’d kept company would have been appalled at the idea of sitting in the grass in their finery. As they settled on the ground, he saw Charlotte close her eyes for a moment, and let out a long breath.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’ll be fine to continue in a few minutes.”

  “I’m curious, Charlotte, are the stories I heard about you true? Were you short with the young men who would call on you? Did you really reject almost everyone who asked you to dance when you attended the various balls this season?”

  “Yes, the stories are true,” she replied, “and I offer no apology.”

  “Do you not?”

  “The men were tedious and simpering,” she remarked. “I cannot abide anything tedious, and when one adds simpering, it becomes impossible.”

  “You are a very forthright young woman,” he remarked. “It is one of the qualities I do admire about you, but sometimes it can be taken further than it should.”

  “Perhaps,” she quietly agreed. “I feel better now, shall we continue?”

  “Very well, if you’re sure.”

  “Yes, Edward, I’m sure.”

  He rose to his feet, then offered his hand to help her up. Charlotte gazed at his open palm. So many times she had wanted to touch him, to loop her arm around his, and since that first day in the rose garden, when she’d been unexpectedly captivated by his lips, she had imagined many times what it would be like to touch her mouth to his. Now, suddenly, he had extended his hand. As was the custom she was wearing gloves, and she paused, a slight crease crossing her brow.

  “Charlotte?” he softly inquired, seeing her fixated stare.

  She lifted her eyes, then pulled off her glove and placed her naked fingers into his palm. He curled his hand around them, firmly but gently, reminding her of the energy he seemed to emanate as they would walk. His manner was always tender, but supremely confident.

  “My goodness,” he said with a broad smile. “Such naughtiness.”

  “If I’m going to hold your hand for the first time, it will not be gloved,” she declared, then added, “may I have one moment?”

  “Of course,” he replied.

  She was still sitting on the lawn, and he stared down at her as she closed her eyes. Her soft fingers squeezed around his, sending a warm pulsing joy through his loins.

  Lady Charlotte, if I could I’d marry you tomorrow. You are completely unique, and I know
you will constantly surprise me.

  Charlotte was losing herself in the warm flush moving from his skin into hers. It was invading her body, sending ripples of tingling pleasure through her limbs and into her most secret places. Skin on skin; it was taking her breath away, and making her heart beat with a rapid heaviness.

  “Thank you, sir,” she breathed, fluttering her eyes open.

  “Thank you, Charlotte. This was a special moment, and one I shall never forget.”

  “Please, Edward, may I continue to hold your hand as we walk?” she asked as he helped her to her feet.

  “I would like that very much,” he nodded, “though you should put your glove back on when we return to the house.”

  “Auntie would have a fit if I wasn’t wearing it, so perhaps I won’t.”

  “Charlotte,” he said sternly, but wearing a smile, “we don’t want to upset your aunt, and that was a very naughty suggestion.”

  They started towards the wooded area with renewed vigor, and were soon walking through the trees, the cool, shaded air filled with the subtle sounds of forest life.

  “May I ask, why did you wish to come this way?” she asked.

  “I wanted a longer walk with you,” he replied, “and I wanted to see this side of the woods. It appeared denser than the area we usually explore.”

  As if on cue, the trees grew thick, the overhead branches blocking out more of the sun, sending shards of light that seemed to hit the ground like gigantic, golden swords.

  “It’s breathtaking,” Charlotte whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Yes, quite breathtaking,” Edward agreed, staring at her; you are truly, remarkably beautiful. “Charlotte…”

  There was a strange tone to his voice, and as she turned to face him she saw something peculiar in his eyes, something sparkling, almost mystical.

  “Yes, Edward?” she breathed.

  “Please place your back against the tree behind you.”

  Looking behind her, she saw a wide trunk, and though the wood looked rough and uninviting, she shuffled her feet until she was able to lean against it. He was moving towards her, and she felt her pulse begin to race.

  He’s going to propose, here, right now, he’s going to kneel and ask me.

  But to her shock, he didn’t kneel. He walked up and stood just inches from her, so close their bodies were almost touching. She could scarcely breathe, and when he raised his arms and rested his palms against the tree on either side of her head, she was sure she would faint from the sheer overwhelming thrill of the moment.

  “Charlotte, you know I am not like other men,” he said softly. “I believe a woman should be free to follow her pursuits, to explore, to question, to learn, and she should be allowed to indulge her physical pleasures, whatever they may be. She should be free to learn about her body without shame or fear, and surrender to all it has to offer.”

  “Edward,” she gasped, “you speak so plainly.”

  “Yes, I do, and you want me to, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she panted.

  “I want to live my life with you. I want to teach you, to reward you, and to punish you when it’s deserved. Charlotte, will you consent to becoming my wife?”

  Her mouth had fallen dry, and she was finding it difficult to breath, let alone speak, and unable to find her voice, she slowly nodded her head.

  “Say it, say you will,” he said, his voice deep and husky.

  “I will, sir,” she managed, “most gratefully. Uh, please, sir, please, will you kiss me?”

  “Such a naughty girl,” he breathed, his entire being filled with an aching need to rip off her clothing and take her maidenhead where she stood. “Yes, I will, Charlotte. Close your eyes.”

  Slowly moving his mouth against hers, he gently pressed, then glided, and softly suckled her lower lip. He lingered, moving his lips over and around, then pulled back and watched her eyelids flutter open.

  “You have made me weak,” she whispered. “I hope you will do that many times after we are wed.”

  “I shall,” he promised, “and many times before.”

  “Ooh, sir,” she whimpered, “such things you make me feel, and such things you say. My heart sings at your words. Would it be wrong to ask you to embrace me?”

  “No more than you asking me to kiss you,” he murmured.

  Wrapping his hands around her arms, he pulled her against him, then engulfed her into his hold. As he felt her yield to him, he swallowed back the intense desire to ravage her on the cool, damp forest floor, and mumbled in her ear.

  “My dearest Charlotte, we shall have such a splendid life together.”

  “I know this, Edward, in all of me, I know this.”

  Slowly pulling away, he let out a heavy breath and gazed down at her, not sure what other words he might say, but when he saw a quizzical look cross her face, he knew she was about to speak.

  “There is one thing,” she said softly.

  “What is that one thing?” he asked, locking her eyes.

  “Will you please tell me about the notebook?”

  “The notebook?” he repeated in amazement.

  “Sorry, but I must know.”

  “Don’t be sorry, you have no need to be sorry,” he said, smiling. “You are simply being who you are, and I will tell you right here, right now, I love who you are.”

  “Really,” she said, her eyes growing misty, “you love who I am?”

  “I would not have asked you to be my bride if it weren’t so,” he winked.

  “I feel so much love for you too, and it shocks me,” she confessed. “I never thought these feelings would be in my life. I know I’m… different.”

  “You are, you are wonderfully different,” he assured her, “and that is why you have my heart. Do you still wish to know about the notebook?”

  “I do, sir, if you’re willing to tell me.”

  “One kiss, and the damsel drops her demanding ways.”

  “You have put a spell on me,” she sighed.

  “Since you asked so nicely, I will tell you, though it might not be what you want to hear.”

  “I believe I already know, or rather, I have some thoughts.”

  “I have kept a log of your misdeeds, Charlotte, and in the early days of our marriage, you will be punished for each of them.”

  “Oh, sir, may I not offer a defense?” she protested.

  “Yes, you may, and I will listen, and I will be fair, but rest assured, you will be spanked.”

  “I will?”

  “Yes, you will be spanked. My hand will slap your bare bottom until it is red and stinging.”

  “But why, sir?”

  “Because you need it, and because you want me to.”

  Chapter Five

  Three months later

  Wringing her hands, Mildred moved quickly through the resplendent ballroom making sure everything was as it should be. Arranging a wedding with so little time had been difficult, but she had succeeded because, in spite of her husband’s objections, she’d had the foresight to start preparations the moment Lord Pemberly had asked permission to court Charlotte. Hugo had been against jumping into the arrangements, but Mildred didn’t want to take any chances, and would not see the wedding delayed because of last-minute glitches. She’d have moved the stars and the planets if she’d had to, and she almost did.

  It was Charlotte who wanted to wed in September, quoting the popular phrase, Marry in September’s shine, your living will be rich and fine, and Edward was more than happy to oblige her. Now that the day was upon them, the majestic house was a hive of activity.

  The earl and his wife were high-profile, important aristocrats, and though Lord Pemberly did not have their fame, he came from a long line of nobles, and was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in London society. The announcement of his engagement had caused tremendous gossip, and because his fiancée was the miscreant, Lady Charlotte Winthrop, the wedding became the most talked-about social e
vent of the season.

  Edward had insisted they attend the many balls and parties during the weeks of their courtship, and Charlotte had been so happy she had not only agreed, but had been a merry companion. Those who knew her, and even those who only knew of her reputation, were amazed at her transformation, but little did they know she couldn’t abide most of them, and her warmth and gracious behavior was due entirely to Edward’s company. As long as he was at her side she was happy, and it was easy to be courteous and pleasant.

  Kimberwick Hall was playing host to a number of wedding guests who would be staying for several days, and Edward had been given an apartment in the east wing. There had been a few celebratory dinners leading up to the wedding, and while Charlotte had attended most of them, the two days prior to her nuptials she had withdrawn, stating she required time for reflection, and to think about the new life ahead of her. She had always been such a mercurial young woman, no one was surprised or particularly bothered by the impolite behavior. Charlotte was being Charlotte. The truth was, she was desperate to escape the stress of the endless conversations about things that she considered, as she told Helen, tedious and boring.

  During those two days, Edward had stolen her away for secret moments, whisking her off to their forest for a few minutes of solitude and conversation. He always left her with a kiss, sometimes trailing his fingertips down her arm, sending erotic shivers through her body.

  Now the time had finally arrived. The service was to be held at the house, presided over by the local clergyman, and as Charlotte readied herself for the most important moment of her life, she had not a second of doubt that Edward Pemberly III was the right man to be her husband.

  Readying herself in her bedchamber, she was being attended by two young women with whom she had developed a comfortable friendship, both of whom had always believed her to be enormously courageous, and Helen, who could not stop wiping a tear from her eye as she hovered and fussed. Charlotte was gazing at her reflection in the mirror when the clock on her mantel chimed, making her jump, and she realized she was much more nervous than she’d thought.