Chapter VIII

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"You play well," Edward observed

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"You play well," Edward observed. Charlotte had won the first round of the night.

"You're letting me win," she accused, aware that she was pouting childishly.

Edward was guilty as charged. Although he hated losing in all cases – games included – he adored her smile and her laugh when she came out victorious from a game. Her smile brightened up the room and her cheeks reddened as strands of hair framed her face and she looked positively beautiful without knowing it.

"Of course I'm not," Edward insisted, lying. For many times that night, he had, had the winning hand, and for many times that night, he pretending he had not. "I despise being beaten so brutally at cards."

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "You're mocking me."

He raised his hands upwards in defense, an amused smirk on his lips. "I would never."

She picked up a card from the deck (it was an ace of spades, from what Edward saw) and threw it at him in jest. It hit him on the chest. Charlotte smirked with satisfaction and crossed her slim arms victoriously.

He took the paper, and walked towards Charlotte, who was smiling suggestively. Charlotte could see he was amused with her. She anticipated his next move as a child would wish for sweets. Edward crashed his lips onto hers in a moment of fiery passion. His kiss was full of fire and experience. Charlotte savored the taste of his mouth, sneaking her arms around his neck. She grasped at the back of his shirt, trying to find purchase as his own hands were at her skirts, yanking them up as he walked her back against the table, where minutes before they'd been playing cards.

His tongue plundered her mouth, before it moved down to her neck and her back arched instinctively. He pulled up the hem of her dress, exposing her leg to the cold, night air. Charlotte wanted him to go further, but she could almost hear her father's voice in her head telling her to stop the inevitable encounter.

"I cannot," she said, pulling away from him.

Edward nodded, panting as heavily as Charlotte was. "I understand."

"It is not that I don't... want to," she awkwardly stated. "I do, I just..."

"I understand," Edward assured her, giving her a reassuring and kind smile. "I would not force you to go any further, mon coeur."
            ─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

George stood by Warwick as he went over battle plans, but he couldn't focus.

"I take it you have your eye on a lady of the court?" Lord Warwick questioned, smirking slightly, having noticed that George was not really paying attention.

"Not exactly," George sighed, looking up. "It's your daughter I'm worried about."

"Charlotte?" Warwick tensed, remembering when he had questioned her.

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