Part Seven

Once Mia's family and friend arrived from the States, it seemed no time at all until everyone was heading up to the Winter Castle for the planned festivities. Clarisse had hoped for a chance to speak with Charlotte on the drive to the mountains, but Sebastian, Sheila, Marissa and Lionel had joined Joseph and Clarisse in the limousine and Charlotte had made arrangements to go the day before to make sure all was ready for the royal entourage. Not only were the members of Parliament and their families invited for their usual Christmas vacation, but many foreign officials had been invited for the royal wedding.

Sheila had been handed into the limousine first, then Marissa had scrambled in after her, followed by a rather diffident Lionel who had looked overwhelmed to be in such close proximity with Queen Clarisse and her husband. When he had taken his seat, Sebastian had caught the slight frown on Joseph's face and had correctly interpreted it, directing his nephew to move into the corner on the other side of Marissa. Lionel had slumped into his place, but his eyes had never left the queen's face for the first half hour of the trip.

Clarisse had noticed, of course, but had turned a blind eye to his adulation, having grown accustomed to it the previous summer. Joseph, however, never HAD had much patience with the lad, and Clarisse sensed that he was losing what little he had. She immediately leaned forward and asked Sebastian and Sheila what they thought of the new Viscount.

"He's certainly very handsome," Sheila sighed, a smile on her lovely face. Sebastian only grunted.

Oh dear, Clarisse thought. Joseph's hand curled around hers and he began stroking her fingers with his thumb. She flashed a grateful smile at him.

Then Sheila dimpled, and put her hand on Sebastian's knee, saying archly, "You just don't like me saying things like that about other men, dear. You know, I think Nicholas is quite good-looking as well." Again Sebastian grunted his response to that challenging remark. Sheila frowned slightly, looking over at Joseph and Clarisse. "Wasn't there some sort of scandal or something in the family about twenty years ago? I really can't remember. It was all kept very quiet."

"I'm sure her Majesty doesn't need to hear gossip and rumour, Sheila," Sebastian said. "At any rate, this Adrian seems to be a very fine chap, and is a tremendous asset to Parliament. MUCH more so than his uncle was, I must say."

"I don't imagine that would be too difficult," observed Joseph with a grim smile, remembering his run-ins with the late Viscount Mabrey.

Clarisse concurred with Joseph, but tactfully said nothing. She began to stroke his hand with her thumb, then realized that Marissa and Lionel were watching them closely and giggling to each other. Honestly! Marissa was what, fifteen now? And Lionel, at twenty, should have known better! Still ... reluctantly, she disentangled her hand from Joseph's, letting him know why she felt it necessary by a quick glance at the two young people. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "Just wait until tonight, my dear!"

A tingle of delight which still startled her after more than five years of marriage shivered over Clarisse, and she leaned into her husband just a bit more. Suddenly she was wishing they had the limousine to themselves. Then, resolutely, she turned her attention back to the others sharing their car. This was Christmas ... a time for sharing, a time for laughter, a time for love. And over this vacation, she had resolved to talk privately with Charlotte about the younger woman's recent actions with Shades and also her NON-actions with Adrian. The new Viscount was really very nice, and Clarisse simply could not understand Charlotte's determination to ignore him. Joseph, of course, continued to advise Clarisse to leave well enough alone.

Try though she might and DID, however, Clarisse found that Christmas was over as was Mia's wedding before she managed to track down Charlotte and corner her in an alcove near the end of the wedding ball. "Please, Charlotte, you KNOW I've been trying to ... ahem." She cleared her throat as Charlotte smiled faintly at the use of Clarisse's word 'trying', then continued, "I know it's none of my business, but please tell me. What is going on between you and Adrian Whidden? I KNOW he wanted to get to know you better. He said as much to Joseph and I on Christmas Eve. Have you EVER talked to him? I've never seen you together ..."

"No," was the brief answer.

"Why not?" Clarisse asked gently.

Spreading her hands in a helpless gesture, Charlotte shook her head. "I don't know. I suppose I'm ... afraid."

"Oh, Charlotte ..." Clarisse sighed. "WHY would you be afraid? If your feelings for Shades are as strong as you're trying to make me believe ..."

"Excuse me, your Majesty," a deep voice behind her had Clarisse turning, knowing who would be there by the faint look of horror on Charlotte's face. Sure enough, Adrian himself stood there, blocking Charlotte's escape. "I understand this young woman is your personal assistant as well as a very able Parliamentarian, but I was wondering if I might have a private word with her. Unless you have business with her, of course ..."

Clarisse smiled graciously at the young Viscount, ignoring the pleading glance she knew Charlotte was sending her way. "What I wanted to discuss with Charlotte will keep until the morning, Adrian. Good night, you two." Making her way back to the main area of the ballroom, Clarisse was swept into Joseph's arms for another dance. She told him she had left Charlotte with Adrian and that maybe something would come of their meeting.

"Maybe," said Joseph doubtfully. Clarisse looked at him questioningly, and he indicated Charlotte standing by Adrian, just downing a glass of champagne. A footman went by, and Charlotte put her empty glass on the tray and grabbed another glass. Adrian said something to her, and Charlotte scowled slightly at him, then gulped down that drink as well.

"Oh, dear," Clarisse bit her lip.

"Precisely," was Joseph's succinct comment.

When Charlotte looked around for another footman with a tray of champagne, Adrian took the empty glass from her fingers and took her arm firmly. Charlotte blinked a few times, and stumbled a bit as he led her out of the room. Then Joseph swung Clarisse around again, saying, "Look at Shades now, Clarisse."

Shades was glowering after the retreating couple, a thunderous look on his face, unable to leave his post for another thirty minutes.

"Oh, dear," Clarisse murmured again.

"Well, yet another situation to keep an eye on," Joseph said, tightening his grasp on her fingers and whirling her around again. "And just when I was hoping we'd be able to discreetly retire ..."

Clarisse chuckled. "If it weren't Charlotte, I'd say the woman could take care of herself, but in a way, it's my fault she was faced with being alone with Adrian. He wouldn't actually HURT her, would he? He really seems so very nice ..."

"I think he'd sooner cut off his arm than hurt her," Joseph observed, "but he's pretending he doesn't even know her, and she has said nothing. Perhaps, just perhaps, this is simply what it appears ... Charlotte had a little too much to drink and he is gallantly assisting her out of the view of the guests so she doesn't embarrass herself."

"Hmmm ... perhaps," Clarisse, however, sounded very doubtful.

O o O o O o

Charlotte had to keep shaking her head to clear her vision enough to see where she was being led. Certainly the man gripping her arm wasn't making many allowances for her obviously tipsy state.

"Are you out of your mind, Charlotte? WHY would you drink two glasses of champagne like that? YOU? You can hardly tolerate sipping ONE glass all evening!" he muttered as they hurried through the hallways.

"That was ... when I was ... younger," she slurred. "Mush younger."

"Your husband should keep closer tabs on you!" Adrian growled as they reached the door to Charlotte's rooms.

Charlotte dug in her heels, a mutinous expression on her face. "I can ... look after ... mineself!" She tried to force her thought processes to work, but couldn't imagine why this man was referring to her husband!

"Yeah, right," Adrian urged her forward again, and she stumbled and would have fallen had he not taken hold of her upper arms and swung her around to face him. She blinked up at him, and he groaned and captured her lips with his. Charlotte tried to resist him, but his kiss was gentle, lingering, seductive. She leaned into him and returned his passion with fire of her own. Then he raised his head and said, tracing her lips with an unsteady finger, "I'm not immune to you. I wouldn't like to think you were immune to me."

Charlotte's heart began to pound at the base of her throat. She was weakening. She could feel it in the heaviness of her limbs, the lightness in her head. She hadn't needed the champagne to confuse her. Adrian was doing that with his touch and his words. "I'm not. I'm not saying ... I don't want you ... but ..."

He backed her up against her door. "No, you're not saying that," he interrupted. "You can't possibly say you don't want me. Lying doesn't come easily to you."

How could she have been so relaxed a few moments ago, and so tense now? Every muscle in her body was taut in the effort to combat what seemed to be inevitable. "No, I ... don't lie ... very well." Her voice was lower, huskier. Inwardly she was furious he was sounding so arrogant, and that her body had betrayed her so completely, but the effects from the champagne were tangling her tongue and she was having trouble speaking. It WAS just the fault of the champagne, wasn't it?

He looked closely at her, and she knew he could see the impotent fury in her eyes. He smiled, opened the door to her room and drew her inside. He ran his hand down the silkiness of her dress back, and her body went rigid with a dozen conflicting emotions. "Adrian ..." she choked out. "It has been ... so long ..."

"You don't want to give in to this," Adrian said quietly. "or to me."

"No," was the only word she could get out before his lips covered hers again in deep, passionate kisses.

"What choice is there, Charlotte?" he whispered.

She could see his face through the gloom of darkness, very close to hers. She whispered, "I ... I hate you! ... There's ... no choice ... at all!"

"No, not for either of us." His body was firm against hers, and his voice, soft and low, was faintly edged with anger. "I loved you ... and you married him! WHY? How could you?"

Charlotte felt another fierce pull of desire, and made her decision quickly to ignore his questions, hoping she would find no room for regrets later. "Make love to me ..."

Her demand was hardly out of her mouth when his lips were on hers. Charlotte had a sudden clear moment of regret as she thought of Shades and his love for her. She murmured, "Shades ..." Then there were no more words, just flame and power. Understanding, if there had been any before, dimmed. Reason vanished. Sensation, and only sensation, ruled.

Charlotte woke up alone, her mind still disoriented. Was it morning, she wondered groggily. When she shifted, lifting both hands to push back her hair, she felt the sweet heaviness in her limbs that came from lovemaking. Abruptly awake, she looked over to see the bed beside her was empty. Had she been dreaming? But when she felt the sheets beside her, they were still warm, and when she turned her face into the pillow, his scent lingered on the case.

The truth crashed in on her. He didn't love her; she didn't love him. There was a twinge in her stomach at the second denial that had her biting her lip. No, she did NOT love him! She couldn't afford to love him! She flung her arms over her eyes and refused to acknowledge the growing fear that she had given Adrian more than her body. Once more she had given him power over her, power to hurt her unbearably. Could she live through that again?

Then she heard loud voices and crashes just outside her door. Grabbing her dressing gown and wrapping it around herself, she got to the door and opened it a crack to see Adrian and Shades fighting angrily.

As Shades threw a vicious punch, he gritted out, "Just because you're a Viscount doesn't mean you have the ancient right of the Lord of the Manor to bed any woman you fancy! Leave MY woman alone!"

As Charlotte gasped in horror, suddenly Joseph was there, grabbing both of them by the hair and forcing them to part. Joseph growled, "Earlier I was offered two American pennies for my thoughts ... had I not given them to my wife, well, for those two cents, I'd bang your heads together!"

"Here they are," came Clarisse's icy voice from beside Charlotte's door, and her hand held out the pennies steadily. "Do it and see if you can knock some sense into the two of them. How can they fight in the castle at such a time as this?" It was obvious that she was outraged.

Charlotte bit her lip and closed her eyes. Two men fighting over her, and Joseph and Clarisse had to catch them brawling outside her bedroom door! She opened the door further, meaning to apologize profusely to the queen beside her. As Joseph jerked the two hapless men to their feet, she held her dressing gown together and tried to smile, saying to Clarisse in an undertone, "If this gets out, it could be almost as big a scandal as the queen and her Head of Security the morning before their wedding."

"Are you threatening me, Charlotte?" Clarisse asked severely, hiding the twinkle in her eye. She was glad Charlotte was still on her feet and thinking just a little more clearly than she had seemed to be when leaving the ballroom not long ago.

"Oh, no! No, of course not!" Charlotte stammered, clearly mortified at how her words had come out.

Shades and Adrian went sullenly off in opposite directions, acting rather like sulky school boys. Shades had reluctantly agreed to report to Joseph in the morning. Joseph looked at Charlotte, his eyes kind. "Are you all right, Charlotte?"

"Yes, of course," she nodded. "I ... they were outside my door ... the noise woke me ... I was so tired after the last few weeks, and the excitement of today, and too much champagne ..." She could feel her face growing red.

"You shouldn't have to keep your doors locked here in the castle, but perhaps ..." Clarisse's voice trailed off. "Charlotte, none of this is my business, and it's obvious that you don't want to tell me anything, but please ... if you ever need to talk, remember that I am willing to listen."

"Thank you," was Charlotte's quiet response as she stepped back into her room and closed the door. Once inside, she slumped into a chair, and put her head in her hands. What was she to do? She simply could NOT continue like this! She felt torn between what she wanted and what she felt she should do. Why did it seem as if her life was suddenly collapsing in on her? All she had ever really wanted was her husband and her baby ... would she ever find real happiness again?

To Be Continued