Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 5

Five

C harlene sat staring at the fire in Drew's study, cursing her luck. The man just had to be home.

Why couldn't he have been in London like everyone else? Or better still, on a boat in the middle of the ocean? Anything would have been an improvement on this.

Of course, she greatly appreciated that he had hied off in the middle of a stormy, snowy night to find John, but something about Drew had always set her teeth on edge.

Well. Fine, if she was honest with herself, not always. There had been moments when she had found him very sweet as a boy, but they had been few and far between. Most of the time, he was trying to send her home, sit and drink tea with their mothers, or play with dolls. She sighed.

“I've got your room all ready.” Polly walked into the study carrying an oil lamp.

Charlene smiled. “Thank you, but I should like to wait here until Drew returns with my driver, John.”

Polly's mouth pulled to the side. “You must be exhausted after your ordeal. I'm sure John won't mind if you see to your own wellbeing now.”

She shook her head. “John is like a father to me. I couldn't possibly rest until I know he is well and truly safe. I…he was injured when I left him. Shouldn’t we send for the doctor?”

Polly looked concerned for a moment. “I'm sure the master will let you know once they return. As for the doctor, there’s no one to send as the staff has all gone home due to the weather. And even if we could send someone, the doctor likely wouldn’t beable to make it in this weather.” Polly patted her hand reassuringly.

She shook her head and smiled. They didn’t understand. “I appreciate all you are doing for us, but I really must wait here to see John when he returns.”

Polly sighed and shrugged a shoulder. “Of course, my lady, but Mr. Wentworth will not be pleased to find you down here when he gave me instructions to see you upstairs.”

Charlene smiled serenely. Well, that was hardly worth thinking about. “Mr. Wentworth is accustomed to not being pleased when it comes to me not being where he thinks I should be. I assure you, he will survive his disappointment.”

“Very well, my lady. Please ring for me if you require anything else. I’ll be in the kitchen preparing some broth for your man.” Polly tried to hide her smile as she turned to leave, but Charlene did not miss it.

“Thank you, Polly.”

A little over an hour later, based on the chiming of the small clock on the mantlepiece, there was the sound of a heavy door opening and smacking against the wall with a loud bang.

John.

Charlene rushed to her feet and ran out to the main entry to see what was happening. She found Drew and Billy carrying a half-conscious John into the house.

Polly arrived at the same time and took charge immediately. “I've his room ready upstairs. Follow me.”

They all did as instructed. Once upstairs, the two men set John down on the bed, leaving all the blankets and fur throws covering him. Polly had already built a roaring fire so the room was quite warm.

Guilt stabbed Charlene as she saw how pale John was. She'd left him out there in the cold for so long, had almost forgotten about him in her distress and cold. She moved to his side to take his gnarled, work roughened hand in hers. “John? John, are you still with me?”

“Not going nowhere, girly. But I'm blasted cold.” A shiver wracked his body.

Polly came over to her and touched her shoulder. “My lady, we need to get him out of his wet things. I think he'd prefer if you were not here for that part. I'll come to you with an update once he is settled.”

“Shouldn't we call for the doctor?” Charlene stepped back from the bed, but worry creased her brow.

“I told you, the doctor can't come in this weather. I know enough to get him through this part. If the storm eases in a day or so, we'll have Dr. Farrington come,” Polly assured her, even as she guided Charlene from the room. “I’ve never seen such heavy snow fall. If it keeps snowing like this we’ll be lucky if we aren’t cut off from the village ourselves. Worse than the Royal Charter storm of ’59.”

“I hadn’t realized how heavy the storm was. Should I be concerned about being trapped here?” That would be an appalling turn of events.

“I wouldn’t worry about that now. Even if it did occur, we have plenty of supplies to get us through.” Polly radiated calm authority.

“Very well. I'll wait downstairs to hear how he is.” Charlene turned to leave the room.

“You should head to bed yourself,” Drew spoke in a low sort of growly tone, as though he was annoyed by something.

What could she have possibly done now? “I'm far too concerned for John to sleep.”

Charlene walked right past him and went downstairs. If Drew Wentworth thought he was going to dictate what she would do, he was sorely mistaken. No man would tell her what to do. Certainly not one who was neither her father nor her husband.

Drew followed her down the stairs and into the study. “Charlene, stop. You must be exhausted.”

She looked up at him, her attention drawn by the softness of his voice. The way the low, deep tones rolled over her like a warm embrace…she wanted to sink into that sensation and wrap herself in it. But then she remembered he was trying to direct her again. No. “Perhaps I am exhausted, but John is important to me. The sacrifice of a few extra minutes of sleep is a small price to pay, considering all he has done for me.”

Drew snorted. “And what has he done for you that calls forth such loyalty?”

Charlene turned away from Drew and faced the fire, letting its warmth seep into her bones. “He has always been there for me, like…like a father. He taught me to ride a horse, drive a coach, punch a man, he has listened to me when I needed an ear. And most importantly for the purposes of this conversation, he wouldn't be injured as he is if he hadn't been helping…helping me to…”

Drew stepped over to where she faced the fire and turned her toward him. “Helped you to what?”

Staring at a button on his simple blue coat was not enough to will the tears back. “He helped me to leave London.” Charlene hesitated, hating to reveal anything Drew might use against her. But it was no use. He would find out eventually. The whole of Society would. “To escape my engagement.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “Why did you need to escape?”

“I…” Charlene’s tears—mingled with exhaustion—won the battle and she fell into Drew's chest as she finally gave in to the grief and fear which had been riding her since Lord Fenwick had slapped her, what seemed like an age ago.

Drew's powerful arms encircled her and pulled her close, letting her melt into his muscular body as Charlene absorbed his strength and warmth. The tears flowed as she sobbed over her unwanted engagement, her parent's neglect when she'd gone to them with her concerns, and the result of her poorly planned flight from London.

She lost track of how long she stood there in his arms, but for the first time in months, perhaps even years, she felt safe, cared for. At peace.

As her tears resolved, Drew tilted her face up to him. “Don't cry, Charlene. Whatever it is, I can help you. You don't have to face this all alone.”

She shook her head. Whether in rejection of his offer, disbelief, or pure overwhelm, she couldn't have said. She did not have the words.

Words no longer seemed to matter. Their lips met.

Drew bent lower over her, bending her backwards while his tongue swept past her lips in exploration. Charlene moaned softly as their tongues tangled and twined in a sensual dance. He tasted of freedom, of fresh air and something a little smoky. Without thinking, she slipped her arms around his neck and tried to pull him closer as her body throbbed to life. Tingles washed over her body as Drew delved into her mouth, only to retreat before invading once more.

She'd never been kissed like this.

Certainly she had never been kissed like this by Lord Fenwick. That man had merely offered her a kiss of the hand and, on a rare occasion, a cool peck on the cheek. She was no innocent; Charlene had kissed suitors, and even allowed more with one or two she thought she might marry.

Nothing any of them had done had felt like what Drew was doing to her right now. Doing to her, demanding of her. This was how a man kissed a woman.

His kiss made her feel everything, made her want for things she knew she could never have. From deep within, a flare of salty resentment bubbled up.

Charlene pulled back from his lips, panting as she tried to catch her breath. His arms loosened their hold and he drew in a deep breath as his dark blue eyes glittered in the firelight. She stepped back from him, easily breaking free of his arms. She looked at him in confusion and dismay. “Why?”

“Why what?” Drew seemed as befuddled as she felt.

“Why did you kiss me?” It was more of a demand than a question.

His eyes narrowed as he glared. “I'd ask the same of you.”

Charlene heaved in another breath and attempted to still her whirling thoughts. “You kissed me, you rogue.”

“Ha!” Drew barked out a laugh and shook his head. “You fell into my arms and lured me into that kiss!”

“I did no such thing!” Indignation rose up to replace all other thoughts and feelings, including any acknowledgement of guilt. Charlene crossed her arms under her breasts and scowled. “You kissed me. I was distraught, and you kissed me!”

Drew's gaze dipped to her breasts then roamed down over her body for a long moment. She couldn't help but wonder if he found her curves distasteful or…

Then he cursed and turned away from her, pulling her out of her wayward thoughts. “Get out. Get out of my study and go upstairs to bed. Do not come back downstairs until morning unless you want a spanking.”

Charlene stared at the tension in his back and shoulders, and fled—not from fear that he'd harm her, she knew he'd never do that. Not really.

But she fled out of self-preservation. In that moment, all she wanted to do was taunt him until he put his hands on her once more. Whether that was to kiss her or spank her, she didn't really care. She just wanted to feel him touch her, to see if his touch caused the same warmth and desire as before. But she already knew that chasing Drew Wentworth was a losing proposition. He was one best left alone.

She was halfway up the sweeping staircase when she saw Polly who had stopped at the top. “I was just coming to find you, Lady Charlene.”

Charlene looked up to where Polly stood on the stairs above her with concern. “Is John well?”

“He's doing fine. We got a nice warm broth in him and a few warming bricks tucked under the covers as well. I also splinted his leg, so he doesn't injure it in the night.” Polly smiled kindly at her.

“Thank you. I appreciate you looking after him so well.” Charlene felt the tension melt from her body. At least the part that had been caused by worry for John.

“He should sleep well tonight, as should you. Do you need any assistance getting ready for bed?”

“No, thank you, Polly. I can manage fine on my own.” Charlene climbed the stairs to move past the other woman.

“You'll find a robe in your room along with your bag from the coach. Billy brought it back with them. If you'll put your clothes outside your door tonight, I can see that they get cleaned tomorrow for you.”

“Thank you. I should have a change of clothing in my bag, so there is no rush to wash these.” Charlene assured her and then headed upstairs to bed. It had been a long few days, full of turmoil and too much adventure.

And she would have to face Drew in the morning.