What the Duke Wants(20)

“Your logic is indisputable.” Charles spoke tiredly.

“Thank you, your grace.” Berty curtsied.

Was she mocking him?

She batted her dark eyelashes.

She was mocking him!

“Now see here Berty—”

“Berty! What are you still doing up?” Carlotta’s voice floated down the hall.

Charles found himself swallowing hard. So much for avoidance. As she walked towards them, he found himself lifting his gaze to watch her approach. She had changed from her wet gown into a deep green dress that showed off the curve of her hips and the smallest swell of her breasts. Her eyes were fixed on Berty but he could swear he saw the faintest hint of a blush deepen the pinkish hue of her cheeks.

She was delicious.

“Berty?” she asked again.

“They were too loud!” Berty whined.

“Pardon?”

“They were whispering, loudly. And every time I asked a question, they’d tell me to hush. So I left.”

“Understandable,” Charles commented.

Carlotta raised an eyebrow.

“I’m simply stating that if someone told me to hush, I’d have left too.”

“I highly doubt you’d simply leave if someone spoke to you that way.”

“Perhaps you’re right…” Charles felt his lips twitch into a smile.

Carlotta regarded him for a moment before turning her attention to Berty. “Love, you need to return to your room. Remember what we spoke about this afternoon?”

“But Miss Lottie! I’m in the hall. The hallway! I am obeying you! Ask his grace! I was not disrupting anybody.”

“Any one.” Carlotta spoke the words at the same time as he did. He glanced to her, their eyes meeting.

“Anyone.” Berty sighed, correcting herself… and breaking the spell.

“Be that as it may… you still should head to your room. It’s quite late and you’ve had a busy day.”

Charles cleared his throat.

Carlotta glanced at him, her eyes unreadable but he could have sworn he saw mirth dancing in their green depths.

“Very well,” Berty conceded, shrugging and then skipping down the hall.

Charles watched her leave and as she ducked around the corner, he reluctantly glanced back to Carlotta.

She was still watching where Berty had gone.

So he waited, studying her profile, memorizing the way her pert nose turned up slightly, and the way her jawline angled into the most delicate bow just below her ear. He wanted to kiss her in that precise spot.

“You can’t avoid me forever.” Charles spoke in a low and seductive whisper. Wincing inwardly at how the words should be aimed at him.

“I’m not avoiding you.” She gave him a sidelong glance.

“Oh?”

“No, I was… wondering.”

“About what? Or whom, perhaps?”

“Do you have siblings, your grace?” Carlotta turned the full power of her gaze to him. It was stunning. Her green eyes had flicks of yellow in them that almost appeared gold.


“Your grace?”

“No. No siblings. Not for want of trying on my parent’s part, however,” he added, though as he spoke the words he wondered why he had thought that information was important.

“Oh. Nor do I…” Her gaze traveled back down the hall where Berty had disappeared.

“You suspect something,” he stated.

“Yes. But I haven’t a clue as to what. Which, I’ll admit, makes me slightly nervous.”

“There are three of them.” Charles nodded. “And all quite intelligent. I shudder to think what they might be planning.”

“You and I both. I’ll have to keep a keen eye on them.”

“As opposed to?” Charles couldn’t help but grin.

“As opposed to giving them any chance to… interfere with the lives of others.”

“Sounds utterly wise.”

“I rather thought you’d agree.” She turned back, flashing a saucy grin. But as soon as the alluring expression crossed her features, she withdrew it, shuttering her expression into a polite mask.

Charles wanted the saucy expression back. He wanted to see the merriment dancing in her eyes, hear the dry whit of her humor and see the way her cheeks squinted her eyes slightly when she smiled.

“Carlotta, I…” he began, not quite sure what he had intended to say.

“There’s no need, your grace.” She offered him a damnably polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes and quickly glanced down at the polished floor.

Charles opened his mouth, intending to say… something but words failed him. He rather wanted to show her what he meant, but knew that would be disaster. He could not kiss her again.

Ever.

Ever, ever, ever.

But oh, he wanted to.

He was sure that a kiss to that delicate spot he was lusting over earlier would surely break through the miserably shuttered expression in her eyes. He was sure that he could coax more than a polite ‘your grace’ from her lips. At once he wanted to hear her voice whisper his name. Not ‘Clairmont’, not ‘your grace’, but his actual name. Charles.

She lifted her head, her eyes slowly trailing her movement till they met his. With a small gasp, her eyes widened and she stepped back.