Heart's Desire

Chapter Nine

Wilcott tsked at the dark circles under Charity's eyes. They couldn't be helped as she hadn't slept. After yesterday's events and last night's occurrence, there had been much too much on her mind.

That Charity began to think of telling Lord Wrotham all was frightening. However, guilt was starting to worm its way into her conscience, making it difficult for her to sleep. Most of the problems standing in the path toward reconciliation stemmed from the fact that he thought her unfaithful. He was the sire of her daughters, and he and Catherine had already started to form a bond. What could it hurt to give marriage a try?

Nearly shaking her head, Charity almost disturbed Wilcott's application of cream under her eyes. What was she thinking? Lord Wrotham had abandoned her, a scared and lonely child. He'd forgotten about her and gone about his life as if he were a bachelor, hence the twins. In return, she'd been ridiculed. Rumors spread at her expense.

A sigh escaped, making Wilcott look at her mistress in askance. Charity wished Charles were there to counsel her on what to do, which way to turn. He'd likely advise her to keep such information to herself. It would be best if she ended this sham of a marriage. Only, she'd begun to see Lord Wrotham in a different light. What they'd done the previous night had opened her eyes to the possibility that a real marriage was achievable. Perhaps he'd give her a family of her own, more children.

Lord Wrotham had made Charity want last night. Not just coupling, but much more. He was a dangerous man. She thought she could come to love him, which would make her a fool as she couldn't trust him not to stray. Perhaps Charles' course was better after all.

It was afternoon by the time Charity made her way downstairs. She'd hidden in her room for long enough. With the book on animal husbandry tucked safely under her arm, she headed toward the library.

A blush rose, and Charity cleared her throat as an image of Lord Wrotham lounging, disheveled and looking decidedly wicked on the settee popped into her head. A footman started at the sound, peering at her in askance. Her nose came up a good inch as she sailed past and into the room.

Charity found it was not empty. Lord Wrotham was sitting on that settee. On either side of him were her daughters. Nurse Hollings was in a chair across the room darning some clothes near a window.

"Good afternoon," Lord Wrotham said, putting down the picture book and making as if to rise.

Waving him to remain seated, Charity walked toward the trio. Placing her unread tome on the end table, she sat in the chair adjacent. Phoebe, who'd only a moment before been nestled against Lord Wrotham's right side, scooted off the settee and came to her.

"Noon," Catherine parroted her sire, then picked up the book. "Duck!" she pointed and looked up at him for confirmation.

"Beebee up, Mama!" Phoebe was growing impatient with her mother not giving her undivided attention. Charity picked her eldest up and settled her on her lap.

They made a cozy family scene. Charity felt her resolve weaken another fraction. Perhaps it would be best to stop the annulment. Even Phoebe was beginning to warm up to Lord Wrotham. Anyone who saw those two together, and really looked at their similarities, could see the elder twin resembled her father in coloring.

"Da, pig."

"You are correct, Catherine."

"I see." Phoebe wriggled down and climbed back onto the settee. She tried to take the book from her sister, but Lord Wrotham settled the dispute before it could erupt. He placed it on his lap and pointed to the picture. "Pig," he told Phoebe.

His eldest daughter gave him a long-suffering look and said, "I know."

Lord Wrotham looked up at Charity, and they shared a speaking glanced. Glancing away, he told Phoebe, "Be nice." His voice was low, but not unkind.