Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 19

Nineteen

D rew blinked blearily into the gloom of his bedchamber. It was hard to say what time it was, but at least he felt well rested. A little groggy, but better than when Polly and Billy had—bloody hell!

Flashes of his servants helping him to bed popped into Drew’s unsettled mind, which included—to his mortification—one of them having to undress him.

Almost afraid to find out, he looked down and was relieved to see he was not, in fact, nude. They had stripped him down to his woolen underwear and, thankfully, stopped.

With mortification heating his cheeks, Drew crawled from the bed and opened his drapes. He blinked as the midday sun glared into his eyes. With a curse, he looked at the clock on his mantle.

It was—it can’t be nearly two o'clock in the afternoon.

How long had he slept? Hadn't he gone to bed around the same time yesterday? At least, he assumed it had been yesterday. Good Lord, was it possible he had slept for over a day?

Quickly freshening up, Drew dressed before heading downstairs straight to the kitchen, hoping to find Polly.

He found her rolling out some sort of pastry, and was relieved to see that when she looked up, she smiled.

“Glad to see you are finally upright and walking under your own steam.”

“Yes, well, good to see you as well. And thank you, for yours and Billy's assistance—was it last night?” Drew hated the confusion he felt. Definitely too much of the decanter.

Polly snorted. “It was yesterday afternoon.” She looked over at the clock in the corner and tipped her chin toward it. “You slept for over four and twenty hours. Probably a good thing, too, you were a mess. I hope you're feeling better now.” The hope in her tone did not go unnoted.

“I am. Would you mind making me a plate of some meat and cheese or whatever you have handy? I'm famished.” Drew patted his belly and almost smiled. He supposed he was feeling better in a general sense after all that rest. “I'll be in my study.”

“Very well. I cleaned up the mess you'd made in there and aired it out this morning. It might still be a touch chilly in there, but I got a fire going a little while ago in case you woke up.”

“You're a gem, Polly. You and Billy both. Thank you.” Drew nodded and left the kitchen.

In his not quite freezing study he found a stack of fresh correspondence, as well as the contracts he'd been trying to review. Perhaps it was best to sort through the correspondence first to see what, if anything, needed immediate attention. As he sifted through the pile, he stopped when he spotted what was clearly an invitation from…Lord and Lady Brookhaven.

No. Surely not.

Curiosity overwhelming his better sense, Drew opened the item and sat down as he read the details. They were having a Christmas gathering, and they had invited him? Was that to ensure his continued silence—or a complete and utter accident? Was there someone with a similar name, perhaps, who would be expecting an invitation and would not receive one? He expected that was likely the case, but a part of him wanted to go; wanted to see Charlie again, perhaps one last time, to give her a proper farewell.

Drew bit his lip. He had a voyage planned soon anyway, and he really needed to stay away from her. No, he shouldn't attend . It was better if he kept his distance .

Regretfully setting the invitation aside, he sifted through the rest of the items. Nothing required his immediate concern, so he picked back up the contract he had been reviewing and started reading it from the beginning.

A short while later, Polly appeared with a tray and he waved her over. “I'll eat here at my desk. Thank you, Polly.”

She brought him the tray with far fewer grumbles than normal. He supposed she was being gentle with him, as he had just recently woken up.

Still, that did not prevent her gaze from lingering over his correspondence. As she set the tray down, she said, “Oh, a Christmas party? Are you going?”

“No,” Drew answered absently as he continued reading the contract and simultaneously reached for a piece of cheddar.

“Why ever not?” Polly asked, surprise coloring her tone.

“Because I am sure it was an accidental invitation. There is no possibility, with the way Lord Brookhaven looked at me when last here, that I was actually invited,” Drew muttered as he grabbed a hunk of bread and stuffed it hungrily in his mouth.

“But what if Charlene sent it?” Polly asked pointedly.

The question had him choking on the bread he was attempting to swallow. Coughing and spluttering, Drew grabbed at the glass of lemonade she'd included on the tray and gratefully swallowed a gulp down, coughing again before he spoke. “What do you mean?” The question came out raspy as he continued to recover from his near choking.

“I mean,” Polly said, looking at him as if he were a complete idiot. “What if Charlene was the one to send you the invitation? With or without her parent's knowledge.” Her brows rose as if to punctuate her words.

He flopped back in his chair and stared. “I hadn't considered that.”

She snorted. “Clearly.”

“Maybe…maybe I should plan to attend. Go and at least see what this is about,” Drew mused out loud, more to himself than to Polly.

“Exactly. Go see if it was from your woman.” Polly winked and turned on her heel.

She was nearly at the door of his study by the time Drew could gather his wits enough to respond to her cheeky comment. “She's not my?—”

But she sailed out of the room before he could finish his denial.

The party was the following day, Drew thought muzzily, so he could get another night's rest and have time to send for his valet to help ensure he looked his best. He did not wish to embarrass himself or Charlie with his appearance, which was far more likely if he attempted to go it alone.

It would be, after all, their final goodbye.

T he next night, as Drew traveled to Brookhaven Manor, his gut churned. Seeing Charlie this evening was a mistake, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t put out of his mind the question Polly had asked.

What if? What if it was Charlie that sent for him?

With that circling in his mind, his carriage rolled to a stop. When the footman opened the door, Drew jumped down, foregoing the steps, and swiftly headed inside. He had dithered in leaving his home, in part to ensure he didn't get caught up in any traffic of arriving guests, and in part to avoid the welcome line. However, his effort was wasted as he landed in what remained of the welcome line.

As he came to Lord Brookhaven, he bowed.

“Mr. Wentworth,” his host greeted him, seeming surprised by his presence.

“Lord Brookhaven.” Drew straightened up. “I hope all is well since last we met?”

The man narrowed his gaze at him, but seemed less aggressive this time. “All…all is as well as it can be with two exterraneous suitors in attendance.” The man shook his head and muttered, “good God.”

“Very well then.” Drew nodded, confused by Lord Brookhaven’s mutterings and turned to Lady Brookhaven. “My lady, thank you for the invitation.”

She looked slightly less surprised by his presence, which likely meant she'd received his acceptance. “Yes, well, please enjoy the festivities.”

The dismissal was not lost on Drew, and it seemed to answer the questions he had about who had invited him. Now to find the one responsible for his presence.

Edging into the crowded room, he moved through the people looking for Charlie, finally spotting her gathered with some other women.

Without hesitation, Drew approached and bowed. “Lady Charlene, I believe I have you to thank for my invite to such an occasion?”

The surrounding ladies giggled with nervousness, he assumed, since he had said nothing that was amusing.

Charlie, on the other hand, was the picture of serenity, and held out her hand to him. “Mr. Wentworth. It has been too long since we last spoke.”

He repressed a snort of amusement. After all, it had been a week at most since last they'd spoken. But he played along. “Indeed, it has. I do hope you have saved a dance for me.”

She picked up her card and perused it carefully. “It seems I have one dance left. You do waltz, don't you?”

He chuckled. “I do as you well know, my lady, since we took lessons together.”

“Ah, that's right. We danced together as children. I imagine this will be quite the call back to days long passed. Though I should warn you, I’m an excellent dancer now.” Charlie’s smile was brittle, as though masking pain.

Doubts began to cloud Drew’s mind. Had she not, in fact, been the one to invite him? Nothing she had said either confirmed or denied his hope. “Mostly pleasant memories, I hope.” His gut tightened. “I look forward to seeing how your skills have improved when we dance later.” He bowed once more then backed away from the ladies, who all closed on Charlie.

He escaped to the edges of the ballroom which was decked out in red and green bunting with bows of pine woven in to provide a fresh scent that still could not mask the odor of so many bodies in one space. As he sought the card room, a small hand tucked into his arm and pulled him down a darkened hall that was clearly not open to the guests. He looked down to find Charlie leading him into the library.

Charlie.

The room was all white-painted wood and books. In the daytime, he imagined it was a rather bright airy space that made reading a pleasant and cozy experience, with all the sofas strewn about.

“Drew.” She let go of his arm and stepped back from him.

“Charlie.” Drew followed her lead, curious about this clandestine meeting when they had a perfectly fine waltz later during which they could have spoken without risk.

“I-I sent you the invitation. I hope Mother and Father were polite. She…she was very distressed when she discovered you had been invited,” said Charlie with a shrug.

“Your parents were the very model of politeness.” No more and no less. “May I ask why I am here?”

Charlie looked at him archly. “I certainly can't answer that. Only you know why you came.”

“Oh, no, sweetheart, you invited me, you pulled me away from your parents’ guests and into a private assignation. I attended out of curiosity to find out what you wanted to say, since I assume that is why my presence was requested.” Drew crossed his arms.

Charlie’s face screwed up a bit, then she huffed out a breath. “Fine. I didn't like how things were left between us.” She took a step toward him, but he took a larger one back.

“And?” Goddamnit, but his curiosity would be the death of him. That, or Polly's advice.

Charlie looked luscious in her green gown with a shocking amount of cleavage bared. Or, Drew thought, it seemed shocking, but that may be because he had personally seen and touched all of that glorious flesh. Frankly, he wasn’t pleased to have every other cad and wastrel in attendance enjoying such a visage. Bloody hell! Was he jealous?

She licked her lips, drawing his unwilling focus there. “And…and, I wanted to tell you I…” She looked down at the floor. “Blast it. I seem to have developed feelings for you.”

Shock slammed into Drew. She had feelings for him? His head reeled as he tried to assimilate the news. That was not what he had expected. Not really. Perhaps an apology. Maybe even an attempt to meet again in secret. But a declaration of feeling? He cleared his throat. “Look, Charlie?—”

“Don't! Do not patronize me,” she interrupted him. “I realize you likely do not feel the same but I felt I needed to tell you. Just in case.”

“In case? In case of what?” Drew was still trying to sort out how he felt while her father's threats continued to ring in the back of his head. The last thing he would do was ruin her reputation.

She looked so dejected. “In case…in case it changed anything.”

Regret and sadness overwhelmed Drew’s shock as reality set in. God, it wouldn’t work. Fuck. “Charlie, you heard your father. He threatened to ruin my business if I said a word, I cannot risk the livelihoods of the men I employ. There are too many families relying on Wentworth Shipping for survival. As…damn, as much as it thrills me to hear you say you have feelings, sadly, it changes nothing.” He held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

His helplessness did not appear to matter. Charlie launched herself at him with a cry and their lips met in a kiss of desperation and longing. Their bodies pressed together as their emotions got the best of them. Drew slipped his tongue past her lips and tasted her—one last time. He sought to memorize the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her on his lips, and the joy she had wrested free inside him.

After what felt like too long and yet not long enough, Charlie stepped back from him. Tears coursed down her cheeks. “Just once, I wish I could be enough for someone.”

The sadness in her words tore at his heart. “Charlie?—”

“No. No more empty words. Just go.” She turned away.

Drew took one step toward her, but her shoulders stiffened at the sound of his footfall.

It was time for him to go. He couldn't give her what she wanted without risking everything, and he couldn't do that. He wouldn’t do that.

It was him who wasn’t enough for her.