Chapter 7. Pagoda
The night was hot and humid for October 15th and sleep was difficult. The storm raged and with the windows closed, the air inside the bedrooms was stifling.
James got up and splashed some water on his face. He stripped off his nightshirt and and began working on a miniature ink portrait of Mr. Heywood for Charlotte's mother. He was a fast and deft ink artist and even though he had only seen Mr. Heywood a few days, he had a keen memory. Portraits were a secret talent of his which he was careful not to demonstrate for fear that it was all anyone would want him to do. A picture for Mrs. Heywood was an exception.
When the storm finally stopped, and the moon could be glimpsed, he got up to open the window and cool his room. He leaned outside of the window and breathed the spicy autumnal air. His hair was ruffled and his forlock covered one eye. He rubbed his bristle face with his hands and shook his head as if to clear it from a haunting visage. He placed both hands behind his head and stared straight up at the sky stretching his back. He was agitated.
Charlotte was sitting in her open window next door in her night gown, hair wild, writing in a journal. One of her legs dangled completely out of the window and her bare foot was swinging back and forth as she re-read a passage she had just scribbled.
She was finished with Mr. Sydney Parker. His acknowledgment of his love for her was too little, too late. She did not care to see him again and although he confirmed what she suspected about the insurance on the building, she was not sure she would ever forgive him for sacrificing her on the alter of financial security. She closed the book and looked up. She wasn't alone but she hadn't been detected yet. She stared at her balcony neighbor.
James, shirtless, looked at the waning moon and scratched absentmindedly at his chest, his muscles glistening with sweat. He turned to reenter the room when he saw her. She was outlined in moonlight and her curves were highlighted through her diaphanous night clothes. She looked like an angel or a fairy or maybe something more wanton, a witch. Blood was rushing from one part of his body to another. His breath quickened, his lower extremity throbbed.
He was much better built than she remembered, more manly. His waist tighter and a five o clock shadow across his jaw. Heat rose to her cheeks as she smiled and climbed back into her room.
The next thing that happened, made him question his hold on reality. He heard a timid knock at the door. His heart raced. He threw on his night shirt and opened it slowly.
There she was. "I can not sleep." she whispered. "Neither can I. " he replied.
He opened his arms and pulled her to him in a deep warm hug. She reached her arms around his neck and pressed herself against his full length burying her face on his shoulder.
"Oh Charlotte, what are you doing to me? "He whispered and kissed her hair breathing her in. She could feel his hardness against her belly. She breathed in musky manly scent and placed a cold hand on his racing heart.
Her tears began again. Tears for her father for herself, her siblings and her mother. It all came on her like the storm that had just passed. She pulled out of his hug into his room and curled herself up under her counterpane and began to cry so hard her inhalation shook.
He raked his hand through his hair and kneeled before her by the bed, her face turned to the wall. He reached across and took her hand and kissed it, her fingers, her palm. She rolled over and touched his lips then his rough cheek.
"Where shall I go?" He asked quietly.
"Don't leave me." She pulled his hand into her body and hugged it pressing her cheek against his hand for comfort. "No one will know."
So he kissed her forehead, climbed in and tucked her into his hug where her tears continued to fall over his bare chest. All of her bravery melted into his body. Their legs entwined under the covers for warmth. She had never felt safe enough to let her emotions out so uncontrollably. With James strong arms making sure she didn't die of grief, she was free to release it all.
He held her tightly and quietly sang the Welsh lullaby that always made him feel better. He learned it as a little boy and used it whenever he was sad or needed a distraction. His voice was deep and soft and lovely. She immediately stopped crying to hear him better. Looking up at him with a tear stained face she smiled at him.
"I didn't know you could sing so beautifully." He took his hand and placed his palm flat against her cheek drying the tears with his thumb, then the other side with the back of his hand.
"I daresay there are a lot of things you don't know about me." His dimple played on his cheek as he brought her hand to his lips. "For example, I bet you didn't know that I sing in Reverend Hankins' church choir sometimes when I can get there. Sundays are my only day off and sometimes my bones hurt so, I can't get out of bed."
She propped herself up on her arm and looked at him in astonishment. "Do your bones hurt now?" she asked innocently.
"A little." He confessed. "I'm just a bit...well...stiff." He blushed.
"Here?" She rubbed tiny circles behind his neck.
"Uh huh." he sighed and closed his eyes.
"Here?" She reached down and rubbed the muscle above his knees, loosening the knots. She continued up his thighs.
"How do you know how to do this?" he asked incredulously
"I've had to rub the cramps out of my father's draft horse when they couldn't pull the plow. I also know a lot about animal husbandry." She smiled devilishly. She lay propped up on her side, her hand under her head and stared at his beautiful face. Her hair tumbled forward and her nightgown fell off of her shoulder revealing that delicious place just in front of her armpit. She slid her hand higher up his leg. He shivered. Inhaling her.
"Are you sore here?" She slid her hand lightly onto his rock hard cock. His eyes shot open.
"Especially there." He winced to hold back his pleasure.
She rubbed her hand up and down it's full length amazed by his size. James was better endowed than she imagined. His face held back the agony of the pleasure he was experiencing. His breath quickened.
"Charlotte. No. You shouldn't. We. .." She pressed her body closer onto him as she continued to feel him. He ran his hand up her back with his other hand then slid it lower and rested on her buttocks. She gave out a small cry of surprise. He rubbed her in a circular fashion which only served to stimulate her further. Her face was flushed. A hot wetness was pooling between her legs. She panted to keep from passing out.
James was in agony and quickly got out of the bed, pacing the floor, splashing cold water on his face and chest. Then he stood by the window feeling the chill of the returning seasonal breeze.
Charlotte lay on the bed to control her breathing. She got up and added water to the basin, submerged a cloth and patted herself until she cooled down.
"What are you doing to me?" James was still staring out at the clouds.
"What are you doing to me?" She silently crawled back into the bed. "We should get some sleep." she yawned.
James smiled to see her so comfortable in his bed. She wanted to be there. "Oh..no, no, no, no, no. Lassie. Ya kinna sleep here!" He playfully picked her up and sent her on her way next door.
The following week a very hopeful James tagged along as Charlotte introduced the tenants to the new foreman from Landsdowne. It was an important step for her and Lord Edgar understood and accommodated. Having no experience as a land owner, James was eager to learn.
Charlotte and James tried to pretend the other night had not pushed them quite so close to the brink. Charlotte was horrified by her behavior and desperately needed to clarify things with James but could never think of what to say or how to say it.
Finally, after a long ride to a scenic point, Charlotte made her move.
"James. I am sorry about my behavior the other night. I do not know what came over me. The last thing I should want is a misunderstanding."
"I accept your apology and think I understand. A man in my position could not hope to gain the favor of a woman such as yourself. But know that I am always at your service, Miss."
"I should like for us to stay good friends, always." Charlotte hoped she wasn't putting too fine a point on it. James changed the subject.
"You know, Charlotte, now that I have a better understanding of the work that goes on here, I think I can make some very useful suggestions to the cottage improvement project to Lord Peacham. For example, the pumps seem very far off the main row. By installing another well, a beautiful central gathering space could be constructed.
"My word, Mr. James Stringer, you are a very clever person. Maybe we could erect a pagoda!"
"Very funny. That isn't even the half of it. With improved drainage and waste management, we can create drier living spaces with less muck and mud in the spring and less mold overall. "
Charlotte couldn't meet his eyes. She looked across the field.
"I leave tomorrow." He let out a great sigh. "I hope I am welcome to return? Do you have any plans to return to Sanditon?"
"I should very much like to do some sea bathing this Summer. Maybe bring the little ones with me. I never thought I would go back but the impending snow makes Summers by the sea irresistible."
"I used to sea bathe every day after work. There is a private cove near the bluff that I discovered. It's really a perfect place. Completely secluded, facing the sunset. It isn't easy to reach, though. One needs a rowboat."
"Sounds like a marvelous place." She caught his eye and as they gazed, pupils dilated, breaths quickened and cheeks flushed.
James broke the connection first. "You are like the sister I never had." James tried to laugh but the sound strangled in his throat.
"I hope not." She stepped closer and looked up his chest at his beautiful jawline.
He exhaled in relief. "Good. I..." and with that he took her face in his hands and pressed his lips firmly against her own. Charlotte gasped and pulled away quickly walking to where the horses were tethered.
"I am so sorry, Charlotte. I don't know what came over me." His confusion was pitiable.
Charlottes head rested against her horses side and she whispered. "I want you, James. I want you very badly but I do not think I will be allowed to have you."
James just nodded and they mounted their horses and headed back to Heywood HIll as the sun began to set. Chaste. Safe.