Charming Sir Charles (Dashing Widows 5)

“You were almost innocent in my arms.” His lips curled in a wry smile. “You certainly didn’t act like a woman practiced in the sensual arts.”

Despite everything, his criticism of her performance as a lover made her cringe. “Well, I’m sorry if my inexperience was a problem.”

“There was no problem, my darling.” He reached out briefly to touch her cheek. She told herself to step away, but the gesture’s tenderness kept her unmoving under his hand. “What we did was a revelation. At least for me. I hope it was for you, too.”

Sally bit her lip, wanting to argue, but unable to speak the lie that surely would send him away forever. Although it was kinder to both of them if she sundered this bond now, rather than letting the misery go on and on.

He was close enough for her to catch his scent, a sensual reminder of all the wonderful things he’d done to her, and would never do again. She blinked back searing tears.

The slight smile lingering, he subjected her to a searching look. “I wouldn’t be quite so sure you’re incapable of bearing children. The difficulty may have been Norwood’s.”

“But what if I am barren?” she persisted, beating down the fragile seedling of hope Charles’s words coaxed into the light. It had taken her years to accept she’d never have a baby. She couldn’t survive coming to terms with that disappointment a second time.

Charles shrugged and took her hand. She was so confused and unhappy, she didn’t pull away. She must be strong and send him away, she knew. But his touch made her feel so warm and alive, while life without him promised nothing but eternal arctic cold.

“The title doesn’t end with me. With four married sisters, I have more nephews than I can keep track of. If I have no son to inherit, I can live with that. Perhaps we can adopt needy orphans, or assist with all those nieces and nephews. Or we can just find contentment in each other. Travel. Collect art. Breed dogs.” The smile widened. “I don’t really care, as long as you’re with me.”

“You make it sound so tempting.” Her starving heart longed toward what he said like a man dying of thirst longed for a clear stream. But the sheer power of that longing was enough to show her that she couldn’t accept.

Sally wasn’t just saying no to Charles for his sake, but for her own. She’d been trapped in an unequal marriage. She knew the harrowing price such a marriage demanded.

He frowned. He was smart enough to guess that her reply wasn’t the prelude to acceptance. “Then say yes.”

“I spent nearly ten years with a man who did his best to make me feel inadequate.” When she withdrew her hand, she was surprised it didn’t tremble. “I swore I’d never do that again.”

Anger flashed in Charles’s eyes, made them blaze russet. “I’ll never do that to you.”

She shook her head. “No, I know you wouldn’t. At least not on purpose. But eventually you’ll regret marrying your older, barren wife. And in trying to hide your disappointment with your choice, you’d hurt me more than you would if you showed it openly.”

“That’s the stupidest bloody thing I’ve ever heard.” One large hand made a frustrated gesture. “I wouldn’t be hiding any damned disappointment, because I wouldn’t be feeling it.”

“So you say now.”

He sighed again. She knew he didn’t understand—but then she was older and wiser, which was the problem.

His voice turned low and persuasive. “Sally, I’m not a fickle man. I’ve never before met a woman I want to marry. Now I’ve found you, I won’t give you up lightly.”

She shook her head and backed away until she bumped the table behind her. She started and stumbled, and Charles moved quickly to catch her elbow. “My love, you’re tired and upset. Let’s leave this for now.”

His touch and the gentleness in his voice, worse, the way he called her his love, shuddered through her like a blow. “No,” she said in a choked voice. “You’ve proposed, and I’ve declined. There’s nothing to gain from pursuing this.”

His grip tightened. “I won’t accept that.”

She raised her head and studied his chiseled features. He looked so lost and baffled. “You must.”

His expression turned stern. “So if that’s true and you want nothing more to do with me, why did you give yourself to me?”

The stark question lay between them like a challenge. After what they’d shared, she owed him honesty.

She swallowed. Her throat felt like it was lined with broken glass. It hurt to speak, and her voice emerged low and unsteady. “I think because for a couple of hours, I wanted the dream to come true. It was disgraceful of me, but I’ve been so lonely, and you offered me the chance to discover a pleasure I’d never known.”

Even in the candlelight, she saw him go white. He let her go abruptly, as if she’d burned him.

“So this was nothing more to you than an experiment?” The anger in his voice lacerated her.

He was wrong, so wrong. But if she told him that she’d never felt so close to anyone in her life, and that the thought of never experiencing that closeness again made her want to die, he’d ask her to marry him again. And whatever her aching heart might want, her mind knew that way lay disaster.

Ten years of Norwood’s neglect and contempt had crushed her spirit nearly into the ground. She’d survived. She wouldn’t survive knowing she let Charles down. How could she bear to see him realize that marrying her was a mistake?