Page 47 of Charlotte's Kisses

Alexander cringed. “I do stand up for you. I assure you. ’Tis just that…”

Did Lady Chesterhill also abuse Alexander? Had Charlotte been too self-centered to notice?

At that second, Charlotte felt a kinship with her brother that she had not experienced since Suzannah had shown up on their doorstep.

Charlotte unleashed her anger on her father. “I will not marry Lord Nash.” She stood and pulled her shoulders back. “And, Papa, it is about time you know, I detest your despicable wife. How can you allow her to abuse me? What would mother say from her grave?”

“Charlie is correct,” Alexander said. “Although, I agree with Father. You should marry George.”

“Augh, men!” She turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.

“Charlotte Beckett, get back here,” her father called.

He could bellow for days, it would not make a difference. Her heart might be shattered, but she would stand up for herself. She would stab Lord Nash before she agreed to marry him, and Lady Suzannah Chesterhill had gone too far. Andas for Hugh Fletcher? Well… he had better enjoy his dinner because she would never take him another meal or visit the cottage again.

Chapter twenty-one

It was well pastmidnight when Hugh stomped into the cottage, berating himself for giving his rent money to a woman he did not know. If he had minded his own business, he would not have set this entire fiasco into motion. Finally rid of the absurdly irritating Curly and Stilts, he slammed the door and howled into the rafters until his throat was raw.

Yes, indeed, he’d had enough of everyone, starting with the bloke who had beaten his wife in the street. Things had continued to spiral downward when the disapproving Magistrate Thomas had waggled his finger in Hugh’s face and reprimanded him as if he were a recalcitrant child.

There were arrogant aristocrats like Lord Nash and Alexander who needed to be brought down a few pegs. As if he needed more arses messing with his life, Lady Chesterhilland her caped blighters thought nothing of blackmailing him. Well, she could crawl back to hell. She was not privy to his investigation, so no matter how much she threatened him, he would not tell her a thing. Besides, Charlotte was intelligent. She would never believe her stepmother’s absurd lies.

To top it all off, Lord Chesterhill and his depraved record-keeping infuriated Hugh for at least a half-dozen reasons.

And finally, Theodore Ravenforde could sod off. In fact, the entire bloody lot of them could sod off.

Giving up cards and excessive drinking had done nothing to improve Hugh’s life, and obviously, being a kinder, gentler man was in no way advantageous. All it had done was make him weak. He’d let down his guard and got his arse kicked entirely too many times. At heart, he was a brutal fuck, and he liked himself better that way. His violent streak had nothing to do with his upbringing because his parents were perfectly loving. Simply put, he had no patience for bullies, arses, and fuck-heads.

He snorted at his dramatics. Perhaps he was not unjustifiably violent since he cared about children, animals, and women. Make that most women because Lady Chesterhill was beyond horrific.

He lowered his aching body onto the chair, taking notice that someone had left a delicious spread on the table. He inhaled her lingering scent.

Charlotte—sweet, lovely Charlotte. She was the only person in the last few days who did not make him want to punch something, and after his debacle of an evening, he had missed her visit. He growled at the wall.

After shoving the food into his mouth and swigging a glass of brandy, he snuffed the lights, undressed, and toppled into bed.

Folding his hands behind his head, he stared at the ceiling. His ruminations led him to two conclusions. Firstly, these beatings were for the birds, and he needed to get his arse back into the boxing gym. Secondly, he wanted nothing to do with Chesterhill and the consequences of his tupping his way through the female population. He was only doing this job to be close to Charlotte. His main goal was seeing to her happiness and safety.

Grasping his cock in his hand, he conjured images of Charlotte.Her hair cascaded past her shoulders, and her innocent blue eyes clouded over with lust as she took his cock into her mouth.

“That’s it, Firefly. Suck me dry,” he commanded his fantasy.

Hugh spent the next afternoon studying Chesterhill’s papers. He spent the early evening looking for a slip of paper he had written notes on. He would never have left the cottage carrying such an incriminating document, which meant it had to be shoved in the stack of letters, or in between the pages of one of the books. He would simply have to find it on the morrow.

As the sun set, Hugh received a missive reading:

Fletcher,

I will be at the location you suggested at the time you proposed to discuss matters. See that my conditions are met, or you will receive another beating.

TR

How dare Theodore Ravenforde threaten him. What ahorse’s arse. After Ravenforde’s unprovoked attack, and his long day searching for another of Chesterhill’s mistresses, Hugh’s patience was sorely on edge.

He’d spent the afternoon visiting brothels and inquiring about a woman named Cleopatra. He doubted that was her real name, and every clue to her whereabouts led to a dead end. Perchance he had missed vital information. He retrieved the journal from the trunk and checked the entry again.

The 3rd of October 1791,