Heart's Desire

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Chérie, it's time to rise," Julian's voice sounded in Charity's ear. He'd held her all night and now hugged her back closer to his front.

Turning her head to escape the summons, Charity murmured into her pillow. "Tired," she said simply. They'd made love in front of the fire, then Julian had tucked her into bed and rang for the footmen to remove the tub and bathing supplies. She was fast asleep when he woke her sometime during the wee hours of the morning to make love a third time.

"You can sleep later." Julian nipped at Charity's bare shoulder, then his tone sobered. "We need to see our daughters off."

At the reminder, Charity's eyes popped open. She'd put the inevitability of saying goodbye to Phoebe and Catherine in the back of her mind. The separation would be hard for her. She prayed it wouldn't be so for them.

Holding back her tears, Charity left the bed and rang for Wilcott. The sun was barely up, casting the room in a gloomy light. It did not help her current mood.

"It needs be done," Julian reiterated as he slipped into his robe. He came over to Charity. She'd donned her own and was gazing out the large window. Arms snaking around her from behind, he pulled her flush against his form. "I wouldn't have suggested this if I didn't think it necessary for their safety."

Turning in Julian's arms, Charity placed her palms on his chest. "I don't fault you for thinking this the best course. I agree that it is, but that does not seem to help me accept the parting. It's this which I'm having trouble with."

"We'll join them soon. The day after the ball, we'll leave for London." Julian's head bent, and he kissed Charity. As ever with them, it quickly heated. A knock on the door interrupted them. Parting, she bid Wilcott to enter.

"Later," Julian whispered the promise in Charity's ear. He went into the dressing room to see to his own clothes. Henderson had yet to arrive from London, but the valet should return before the Middleford event.

"Good morning, my lady." Wilcott's cheery greeting drew Charity's eyes from the closed dressing room door. Her lady's maid was beaming as she noted her lord and lady were no longer at odds.

The return greeting Charity gave was more muted than Wilcott's. She told her maid, "I'll dress simply this morning. I want to spend as much time as I can with my daughters before they depart." She had to clear her throat as the last word was cut short.

Wilcott helped Charity into a simple morning dress and put her hair up in a chignon. The lady's maid was tidying when she noted the torn night rail. Picking it up, she flashed her mistress a knowing smile.

Charity felt her cheeks heat. "Er, I don't know if it can be mended," she stammered.

"I'll see what I can do." Wilcott draped the ruined, damp fabric over her arm. Bidding Charity a cheery farewell, she bobbed a curtsey, then left.

Julian came out a short time later, looking no worse for wear due to his lack of a valet. Glancing up from straightening the cuffs on his jacket, he paused. "You look flushed. Are you still feeling the effects of the poison?"

Before Julian could blame himself, Charity answered. "No, I'm tired, but otherwise well. Wilcott just left and took my night rail with her to see if it can be repaired."

As Charity felt her cheeks flame, Julian chuckled. "We'll replace it in London. Although I really can't see the point of them." The last was added as if he were talking to himself.

Clearing her throat in a bid for composure, Charity went to the door. "I mean to breakfast with the twins and spend time with them until the carriage is loaded." She didn't know what Julian's plans for the morning entailed. It hadn't been something they'd discussed.