Page 75 of Charlotte's Kisses

He kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

“No. Thank you,” she said.

Chuckling, he closed his eyes.

Pepper snored from the floor beside their bed, and Snowball purred from the windowsill. The lovebird’s chirping quieted to a light rustling as they groomed one another. Meanwhile, Hugh’s heartthumped, thumpedbeneath her ear.Eventually, his breathing evened out, and he slept.

Charlotte lay awake for a long while, listening to the mesmerizing sounds of her family’s peaceful slumber. The best part of this happy scenario was that it never had to end. Henceforth, every night, she would fall asleep surrounded by her precious family.

Smiling, she closed her eyes and became one with the mattress.

Chapter thirty-one

One month later…

Charlotte’s honeymoon had been perfect. Hugh’s family treated her as though she was a princess, and she and Hugh soaked up the sea breeze on their daily constitutionals. She especially loved to listen to the waves crash, and the seagulls call to each other. But her absolute favorite memory was of the nights and mornings spent making love to her doting husband.

Upon returning to Chesterhill Manor, she packed her belongings. Thankfully, her stepmother had been absent.

“Where is Lady Chesterhill?” Charlotte asked Papa.

“I confronted her about reading my personal records and her treatment of you and Alexander. She denies everything. Alas, I love her and want to believe her.” Papa frowned. “Shebecame quite angry at me and has gone to stay with a dear friend.”

Charlotte would bet her sparkling hairpins that Lady Chesterhill was harassing Satan in hell, but she had no desire to upset Papa, especially since his health seemed slightly improved.

Since Lady Chesterhill was not in residence, Hugh left her with her father and brother and traveled on ahead to their new residence.

“You will be safe with the shrewish grimalkin gone, and it gives me a chance to finish preparing our home,” Hugh declared. “Poor Billy has been working for weeks while we enjoyed our honeymoon. I do so want everything to be perfect for you.”

Although she was forced to spend time away from Hugh, she relished Papa and Alexander’s company as she busily supervised the packing of her belongings. Still, she missed her husband with an ache that sometimes left her gasping for air.

Lucy squealed, bringing Charlotte to the present. “We are finally on Mare Street,” she said.

Excitement bubbling, Charlotte pressed her face against the carriage window. People bustled about as far as her eyes could see. Women in fashionable dresses carried packages, and vendors hawked a multitude of wares. They drove past a circle of children playing with marbles. On the next block, a group of men waved their hands about in front of a three-wheeled cart. A broken wheel lay a few feet away. As Charlotte’s carriage rumbled along, the living tableaux got smaller and smaller until it eventually disappeared. Now, she would never know if the men fixed their broken cart. Although, she would imagine that they did, and that the rest of their day was void of misfortune.

She turned her attention to the cobblestone sidewalk and the colorful facades of the storefronts and townhouses. Despite the crowds, the dusty street, and the chipped paint on many of the buildings, the city was much more exciting than the perfect illusion of boring Chesterhill Manor.

“We are here, my lady,” Lucy declared as Pepper howled happily. “I think he knows that Mr. Fletcher is near.”

Indeed. Charlotte also wanted to howl in celebration.

Once the carriage halted, Charlotte slid to the other side of her seat to see what Lucy pointed at.

TheFletcher’s Investigations and Bountysign hung beside a first-story bay window. The building stretched three stories high, a rod iron balcony jutting from the second floor. The door of her new home opened, and Hugh stepped onto the stoop. He was always handsome, but his crisp, tan tailcoat and brown cravat were to die for. A waving Billy exited behind him.

When the door opened, Charlotte did not wait for assistance from her father’s footman. She flew from the carriage. Hugh descended the steps and met her on the cobblestones. She leaped into his arms, showering him with unladylike kisses.

What did it matter? She was Mrs. Fletcher, a wife greeting her husband on a busy London Street where no one would take notice of her. Or compare her to a sausage. Or gossip about her at a ball. Or destroy her embroidery.

“Good day, Lady Charlotte,” Billy said as he approached. “Cricket is doing well. She will be highly pleased to see you.”

Charlotte slid her gaze to Hugh with every intention of requesting to see the sweet girl.

“I shall take you to visit her tonight,” Hugh said.

How lucky was she that her husband knew her every wish even before she asked?

Lucy handed the birdcage and Snowball’s basket to Billy. She alighted the carriage holding Pepper’s leash. His tail wagging wildly, the pup lunged toward Hugh, who squatted so that Pepper could lick his cheek.