Aurora had nearly been ruined on the terrace by him, barely six feet from the other guests lingering about the gardens. At Tate’s, he wanted to take her to the storeroom and tup heragainst a crate of books. He couldn’t stop touching her. Restraint wasn’t working. Or avoidance. The sight of her with Healey had driven him mad with jealousy.
Charleswantedto ruin Aurora.
And if he did, he would have to wed her. There was the rub.
He needed to come to terms with the idea of marriage, to Aurora specifically. Charles had told himself for so long that he’d never wed, never love again, that the idea had become second nature. He kept attachments to the bare minimum. Never allowing anything but careless affection to bleed through in his affairs. But if he didn’t wed Aurora, Charles would lose her, forever.
His progress across the grass halted as a terrible pain tore into his chest.
Charles would spend the rest of his life knowing Aurora spent her nights in another man’s bed, unable to touch her ever again. His petty, stupid reasons for not having Aurora seemed ridiculous. Yes, he was older. And had a reputation. Her brothers might beat him, but Charles would take the risk.
Because Aurora loved him.
She was not Cecily. It was unfair for him to continue to judge her on the actions of another woman.
So, that was how he found himself here, about to forgive that bitch, though part of him wanted to hold onto the bitterness for a lifetime. But this conversation was long overdue, as loath as Charles was to admit it.
“There you are,” he said, finally finding Cecily near a bench beneath a large oak tree. Ignoring the bench, Charles instead folded his long legs and sat down in the grass. Taking a flask out of his coat, he tipped it to her, shrugged, and then took a swallow of brandy before speaking.
“I always suspected you were ambitious, but I’d no idea how much. My father was a lonely man, one who had my mother, thelove of his life, which you assuredly were not.” He looked away. “I’m sorry if that stings a bit, Cecily. But we both know it to be true. You flattered his ego, a beautiful young woman who wanted to bed a man who most considered past his prime. Guess you proved them all wrong, didn’t you.”
Charles shifted on the grass. This was hard. Far more difficult than he’d anticipated. The pain of their betrayal still pained him, though at least now when he thought of it, Charles could still take a breath.
“You aren’t the first woman to have fucked a man to gain a title. You won’t be the last. So banish any thoughts of originality. My brother James was already wed, so I suppose you realized if you wanted to one day be a viscountess, my father was the choice. Marry him. Give him an heir.” A bitter laugh came from him. “James knew, by the way, but I didn’t tell him.” Another sip of the brandy. “He had guessed what you’d done.”
Charles recalled the day he had met Cecily. She was exiting the milliner’s on a lovely spring day. He’d been struck dumb by the sight of her. “Did you plan to run into me, Cecily? I’ve often wondered. Our meeting was so…bloody perfect you must have engineered it. How convenient that you were visiting your aunt, who happened to live within a stone’s throw of my father’s estate. I don’t understand why you bothered with me. Why not go straight to him?” He picked up a small pebble and tossed it at her. “We both know why, don’t we? You thought I was the eldest. The heir.”
He and Cecily had courted in earnest almost from their first meeting. Within a month, Charles had decided to wed her. They spoke of the future. Of the life they might have. Deciding to introduce her to his father, Charles had brought Cecily home, thrilled to see that James was down from London.
“Do you recall the look you gave me when I introduced you to my brother James? The heir?” He made a bitter, chokingsound. “You had already seduced me by then, claiming I took your virtue, though I think we can be honest now. It was already gone.” He waved a hand. “You took my cock in your mouth far too quickly to have been unexperienced. No coaxing required. Did you use the same trick on my father? Did Lord Dutton appreciate your enthusiasm?” Charles took another sip of the brandy. “Sorry, that was rather impolite. I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
Viscount Worthington had still been mourning Charles’s mother when Cecily was introduced to the family. He’d buried his wife the year before and didn’t plan on taking another, something Cecily probably hadn’t realized.
A wave of anger hit Charles thinking of what his father had done. But Cecily could be quite convincing.
“You broke my heart, Cecily. And me. I’ve been walking around with the wounds you inflicted for years. I think you’re what killed my father, or at least the shame of you did. Ilovedyou, Cecily. And him. You destroyed it all.” A sound came from him. “I swore off romantic attachments forever because I saw you in every woman I’ve met since.”
Except one.
At the sight that greeted him that day in the study, Charles ended his engagement to Cecily immediately, no matter how much she and his father begged his forgiveness. She’d fallen to the ground, naked and weeping. His father horrified and ashamed, trousers still down around his ankles.
“You thought my father would wed you. But he didn’t. He never would have. Honestly, Cecily, what were you thinking? That you could be my stepmother?” Another ugly laugh burst out of him.
After, Viscount Worthington informed Cecily he had no desire to wed her. Ever. She came crawling back to Charles withthe false assumption he loved her so much, he would completely put aside the fact she’d bedded his father.
Charles had laughed so hard at her attempt to reconcile; he’d fallen out of the chair he’d been sitting in. Of course, he was already foxed and would remain so for several days. Her next attempt, showing up uninvited at his London home, had her being escorted out by Ropely’s predecessor.
Charles barely gave her a passing thought.
He was far too busy fucking his way through London, debauching any female within arm’s reach. Terribly easy. He was charming, wealthy, and good at cards. Seemed the best way to blot out what Cecily had done. It worked remarkably well.
“How that annoyed you, my refusal to allow you back in my life. So instead, you went about town claiming I’d ruined you and then broke our betrothal. I was labeled a cad for discarding you. The worst sort of gentleman. And I allowed you to because I simply didn’t care.”
He did not compromise young ladies of good family, because marriage would be the end result, something Charles meant to avoid at all costs. If a lover became clingy or spoke of the future, Charles ended the relationship without a thought. Most importantly, he kept his heart well out of reach, locked away where it could never be found. You cannot have your heart or trust broken if you refuse to give either.
So, Charles didn’t.
“I see you’ve nothing to say for yourself, Cecily. Just as well.” He looked up at the sky which had darkened. “I don’t wish to be caught in the rain. Oh, nearly forgot. I brought you these as a peace offering.”
