Charles had had the most delicious dreams. They involved him and Isabella and her great big bed. Kissing, hugging, rolling around in one large tangle. He stretched his arm over his head and opened his eyes to a curtain of hair. Long, dark hair. What?
Pushing the hair away from his face, he angled a glance toward the hair's owner. Isabella! He peaked beneath the heavy covers. And she was naked. Another peak confirmed his next suspicion. He was naked as well. After scooting out away from her warm, enticing body, he slipped from the bed and found his trousers crumpled on the floor. Various articles of clothing were strewn about the room, looking as if someone had tossed them from a rapidly moving carriage. There was even a corset dangling by its tie from the top of a lantern.
What had he done? Charles darted another glance at the bed and felt warmth through his core again. But looking at her now, how could he have resisted? A thought nearly knocked him flat as he edged closer to the door. He was in love with the beautiful temptress in the bed. Truly, deeply in love. His heart would break if she left now. Could he convince her to stay? First though, he needed to exit her room before anyone found him there. He could discreetly retrieve the rest of his clothes later when Isabella wasn't in the room.
Charles opened the bedroom door as silently as he could and winced when it gave a stubborn squeak. He gritted his teeth, desperately hoping no one else was in the hallway. For he had no desire to sully Isabella's reputation.
He slid around the doorframe into the hallway as he let out a breath. Charles seemed to be alone. Thankfully, no one else was—
"Enjoy your evening, nephew?"
Charles nearly came undone. Oh no. "Uncle Sebastian, M-Merry Christmas."
"Same to you." Sebastian eyed Charles from head to bare feet. "How was the ball with Lady Isabella?"
Charles gazed past his uncle, somewhere over the other man's shoulder. "Fine. Quite… nice."
"I sense hesitation. Anything amiss?"
"No, no." Hoping to divert his uncle from his present state of undress, he said, "You know how members of the ton can be."
Sebastian nodded. "Ah, I see. Caused trouble for Lady Isabella, did they?"
He shrugged. "Somewhat."
Sebastian frowned. "What a shame."
Why was his uncle still standing there? Didn't he have something else to do? Surely there was something having to do with the holiday that could occupy him. If nothing else, the man couldn't keep his hands out of the fresh pies their cook was sure to have made for this evening. Charles crossed his arms over his bare chest.
"Feeling a draft, nephew?"
Charles cleared his throat. "I, well…"
"Any particular reason why you were coming out of a bedroom not your own, wearing no shirt and," he flicked a gaze down, "no boots?"
How was Charles going to extricate himself from this mess? A better question was, how was he going to protect Isabella from scandal? "Listen Uncle—"
The door pushed open an inch or so. "Charles? Are you out there?"
Charles widened his eyes. Worse timing there could not have been.
Isabella saw him, opened the door wider, and beamed. After she leaned farther out into the hallway, she spotted Sebastian. "Oh, hello." Her face flamed a bright red. She swallowed but said no more. At least she'd put on her nightgown.
Sebastian crossed his arms. "Oh, I understand how things are to be, then."
Charles rubbed his hand down his face. "Uncle, please."
Sebastian held up a hand. "No, Charles. What's done is done. Meet me in the den when you are… appropriately attired."
****
Izzy watched Sebastian stalk down the hallway toward the stairs. "What was that about?"
Charles herded her back into the room. "Get dressed."
Izzy frowned. "Excuse me? We spent the night doing, you know, and this is how you speak to me?"
Charles stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
Izzy nuzzled her face in Charles' neck. "You're forgiven. I know you weren't trying to be rude."
Charles hugged her tighter. "Thank you. However, I was apologizing for something much larger than my comment."
Izzy pulled away and peered up at him. "What do you mean? Do you regret—"
"No! Never. But it does pain me that I allowed this to happen without making an honest woman of you first."
"Then what?"
Charles sighed and led her to the bed. Izzy raised her eyebrows. "Now? Again?"
He seemed to realize where they stood. "Oh, no. Not as if I wouldn't like to… Here, have a seat."
She huffed out a breath. What was going on? "Well?"
Charles paced in front of her. Back and forth. Back and forth. He rubbed his hand down his face. Izzy recognized his gesture of frustration but didn't understand the cause.
"Charles?"
He stopped pacing and knelt before her. Taking her hand, he kissed her palm. "There's something you don't understand."
She ruffled his hair with her other hand. "Then please, enlighten me, all right?"
He nodded. "I know things must be vastly different where you come from, but here and now, there are shall we say, consequences to one's actions."