Chasing Charlotte

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen 

It was raining at night and the sound of thunder echoed through the rooms. To say that Charlotte was scared was an understatement, she didn't enjoy rain and certainly not the strikes of lightning that crackled in the sky. The girl had difficulties falling asleep as she heard footsteps walking through the hallways. It made her uneasy and being alone in a strange new place wasn't helping her nerves. The shadows that loomed in her room conjured up creatures in her head - her imagination ran wildly.

Meekly, she pulled a fichu over herself as she pushed the door open, looking for the kitchen in hopes of getting a warm cup of milk. That'd help her sleep, it usually always did. It was a shame since she had little idea where she was walking and her confidence was faltering. From the twists and turns she took, she had forgotten where her own chamber was even located. She wanted to cry, stranded in the hallways as the sound of lightning and thunder only hit harder and harder.

Jonathan hadn't gone to sleep. He had stayed in one of the studies, flipping through books to distract himself from his pining and longing for Charlotte. A glass tumbler was in his hand as he drank it quickly, allowing the alcohol to burn his throat. He recalled dinner and the misery that was strewn on her face. The more upset her expressions noted, the more he hated himself. She didn't trust him and she wouldn't change with her unbudging resolutions. Charlotte was a challenge that he thought he could've conquered easily but she was no match for any of the ladies in the ton. Even if she was by his side, he wouldn't have her heart and perhaps that was the most depressing conclusion of all.

His ears heard loud scampering through the hallways, his eyes narrowing. Perhaps it was his mother with her nightly fits but he didn't hear any cursing or moaning, only quiet hiccups and tears. He placed down the glass to his side and threw the book onto the sitting chair. He strode to the door, opening it as his head peaked out to observe the hallways. In the darkness he made out a figure huddled onto the floor. He recognized the form immediately when he caught glimpse of the blonde hair illuminated by the moonlight.

He walked toward her, delicately as to not alarm her.

Charlotte had given up all hope and sat herself on the ground, crying to herself pitifully for being so wanton as to leave her room. She was too consumed in her own grief to realize that someone else was hovering over her. She recognized him by his scent and his strides.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" he asked, his breath sprinkled with remnants of alcohol. He had been drinking.

"Wallowing in my sorrows." she hiccuped, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Charlotte," he kneeled down, eliminating their space. "I'll bring you back to your room, come along."

He offered her his hand and nothing else. Quietly she accepted it as he guided her. She watched him from the back, his figure gleaming in the ambience of the candle sticks. His broad shoulders were firm as were the arms that connected it. She bit her lip, silently cursing herself again for looking at him like a ninny. She had a grudge to keep. Though her willpower to keep such a foolish notion in her mind was thrown out the door when a sharp cackle of the light struck the otherwise quiet corridor. Charlotte had yelped and like a fool, thrown herself into his arms for comfort.

He hadn't expected it but when her slender arms had wrapped itself around his torso, he could feel her trembling in fright. She was still delicate in nature, a trait he hadn't believed Charlotte Cecil capable of wielding. He turned himself ever so carefully until her head rested upon his chest, her breathing quickening as her eyes were adjusted to stare out at the thunder.

In the moment, he lost himself when his eyes were met with pale green orbs. His hands cupped her face and he only managed a brief, "forgive me," before his lips found it's way to hers. But Charlotte didn't fight it, rather, she welcomed it with fervor he hadn't expected. For someone who said she hated him, she was doing a terrible job proving it. Her figure was pressed against his larger form, their mouths connecting in a way that lovers did. His hand rested at the back of her head, guiding her slowly as their lips melted upon each touch.

All of the hate Charlotte had harbored against him had disappeared when his mouth had met hers. They were soft but urgent in each tug, and she found herself craving for more. Her own hands pulled at his shirt - for if she didn't, she was sure her knees would buckle. The rain was forgotten and in the heat of the moment, she couldn't care less about the possible scandal that would erupt. At this point, she was a fallen woman regardless. He pulled away briefly as the blue in his eyes met hers, gazing at her sweetly in regard. We should stop," he murmured huskily. "If we continue, I'd truly compromise you tonight."

Charlotte didn't say a word as her hold on his shirt loosened. She allowed him to hold her hand this time, not fighting his grip as he led her quietly through the halls. She was burning all over, her face flushed. No amount of warm milk would have her fall asleep that night.

"Goodnight Charlotte," he murmured as he let her go much to her disappointment. She watched him close the door behind him as she left to her own devices. She jumped into her bed, burying herself in the fabrics as she relived every moment of their encounter.

Jonathan Lennox made her want to scream. 

A/N: Sorry for the late update! It's midterm season for me right now and things are crazy!!! I have so much to do in terms of work (art takes so much time) but luckily I think I'm doing pretty well with what I have to do. This chapter was a fun one to write too - lots of pent up emotion and angst haha. Anyways, please vote, comment and etc! But seriously, comments are really helpful for me in terms of your thoughts and questions. Thanks again and until next week! (Hopefully)