Eloisa James - Potent Pleasures

Ah Charlotte looked up at him, hopelessly confused. The princes gold heels?

Yes, Will said. He looked at her expectantly.

Im sorry, Charlotte said humbly. I havent the faintest idea what you are talking about.

I know, said Will with a wry smile. Thats because Ive been making up nonsense, and you have been very charmingly nodding and agreeing with whatever I say.

Oh, Charlotte said with a little gasp.

Will firmly drew her over to a nearby bench. They sat down for a moment and watched two sullen swans trolling for bread. Weeping willows hung down over the pond, their branches trailing into the water like strands of wet hair.

Charlotte longed to be back in her calm studio, finishing her portrait of Sophie. She had posed Sophiesomewhat ridiculously, she would admitin a bluebell wood, and it had turned into an endless task, painting bluebells stretching into the distance. Yet even if she was occasionally bored in the studio, at least there she was never buffeted by desire, or flushed with sudden humiliation.

Now she was on a picnic without a chaperone, escorted by a handsome young man who seemed to be in love with her, and she could not keep her mind clear. Wills tousled blond hair and blue eyes left her pulse unmoved. But all she had to do was remember that she would soon be seeing Alex and her body instantly responded, tingling from her toes to her fingers.

Charlotte, said Will, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her toward him. I would like you to do me the honor of becoming my wife.

Oh, Charlotte gasped again. She had been refusing marriage proposals for weeks, and suddenly she had forgotten all her lines.

Will didnt wait for her to answer; he simply lowered his head and kissed her. Charlotte snapped out of her hazy state and began to feel distinctly annoyed. What was it about these men? They seemed to think they could plaster their lips to hers at any moment they wished! She drew back sharply, rising to her feet.

Lord Holland, she said calmly. You and I have already discussed the subject of marriage and I refused your hand.

For an instant Will just sat on the bench and looked up at her. That was before, he thought silently. Before you cut your hair, before you changed your dress, before you became so irresistible. But how can you tell a woman that this time you really mean it? How could you say such a thing without revealing that you had been hunting her fortune and not herself, even if you were no longer? He rose and took her hands in his. Charlotte, I But whatever he meant to say was broken off.

Charlottes eyes flew past his shoulders and a small but radiant smile broke over her face. Will stared down at her in stupefaction for a few seconds, then dropped her hands in resignation, turning around. Striding through the trees toward them was a chattering party of elegantly dressed people including Alexander Foakes, the Earl of Sheffield and Downes, who once again carried his small daughter perched on his shoulder.

Will looked down at his companion. Her face grew faintly rosy as she watched the earl approach. She seemed entirely unaware of Wills presence. The barons shoulders drooped slightly. He was no fool. Charlotte was lost to him unless could she be aware of Alexs impotence? For a mad instant Will pictured himself telling her, comforting her as she threw her disconsolate self into his arms. Insanity. How on earth would you tell a gently bred young lady such a thing? Why, she probably didnt even understand the mechanics involved!

He glanced at Alex. It seemed so unlikely, anyway. Alexs large, muscled body suited the current fashion for skintight pantaloons perfectly. Even from here Will found it extremely unlikely that he was incapable.

Damn it! Will felt a stab of pain in his chest. He had grown so used to the idea of hunting a young woman for her fortune that he had forgotten that real emotion could be involved. But he glanced down again at Charlotte. Her lips were upturned in a welcoming smile; in her eyes was a look he had never seen before. Oh, the hell with it, Will thought. Even if her parents did send Alex packing (what parents would allow a girl to marry a man with an impairment like that?) she would never really be his.

And at that point Will, unbeknown to himself, moved smoothly out of the category of fortune hunter. He turned a corner that disallowed marriages made solely on the basis of money.

For his part, Alex instantly noticed Charlottes rumpled hair and pink face, and a swell of rage rose in his throat. How dare Will touch her, he thought furiously. How dare she kiss another man? Pippa, sensing the current of emotion pulsing through his body, clutched his hair and began to cry.

Hey, Alex said softly, swinging his daughter down against his shoulder and smoothing her hair. Shhhh, Pippa.

Papa, Pippa sobbed, Papa.

Lord. Alex sighed, and waving his hand at the small band, said carelessly, Will, do the pretty for me, please? Im going to take this little fish bait for a walk. He set off without a backward glance.

Charlotte watched, nonplussed, as the earl rounded a bend in the path and disappeared. That was it? He shambled off, like someones groom? She felt a flush rise up her cheeks. By God, she wasnt an easy wench, ready to fall into his hands the moment he raised his finger.

Well, said Lord Holland, I should certainly like to do the pretty, as Alex has it, but Im afraid I havent had the pleasure. He looked appreciatively at the lovely young woman who had just arrived.

The gentleman with her made a low and elegant bow. I, sir, was the Marquis de Valconbrass buthe shrugged in a very Gallic fashionnow I am simply Lucien Boch. And this is my sister Daphne.

Daphne sank into an elegant curtsy. She was very young, probably only sixteen, but she already wore her hair up in a chignon, indicating that she had been presented at Court. She looked, to Charlottes mind, quintessentially French, with dainty features and a strong yet delicate chin. She seemed at once romantic and intensely practical. Her hair was so fair it looked like spun silver, and it shone in the sun. And her clothes were exquisite, from the tip of her parasol to the glimpse of rosy slippers peeking out from beneath her fashionable gown.

Lord Holland bowed as gracefully as the marquis. Lord Holland, at your service, he said cheerfully, and this is Lady Charlotte Daicheston, daughter of the Duke of Calverstill. It is a delight to meet you. He raised Daphnes hand to his lips.

Lucien shrugged, looking off in the direction taken by Alex. Shall we return to the carriages? I believe the picnic is being set up in that direction.

Charlotte felt a bubble of laughter rising inside her. This was too ridiculous! She was on a picnic with a rejected suitor, who rather than sulking seemed perfectly ready to turn his attentions to Daphne; another possible suitor, if she could even call Alex that, considering his inattentive behavior; and a third man whom she had never seen before in her life.