Her Wicked Proposal novel Chapter 62

Icy, clawing darkness. Choking, suffocating blackness. No air.

Charles couldn't breathe. Ropes cut into his wrists and his ankles, immobilizing him. Struggling, the burn of his lungs as air couldn't get to him. He was going to die in the river, drowned, swallowed by eternal darkness...

"Help!" The hoarse shout ripped from his throat. "Help me! Please!" It died in a frantic whimper as water filled his lungs.

Suddenly a hand touched his face. "It's all right, my lord. You are safe. Wake up," a voice soothed in a whisper close to his ear. Charles's body spasmed and sweat beaded on his forehead and drenched his clothes.

"Take a deep breath, my lord. It is only a dream. You must wake now."

He drew in another breath and then let it out in a slow exhale. Air, not water, filled his lungs. The nightmare evaporated into the darkness.

He was safe.

"Thank you," he said to whoever had been there. His body went limp as exhaustion claimed him again.

He drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours before he had the strength to get up. He wasn't alone. Tom Linley was sprawled out on an armchair close to Charles's bed, fast asleep. His face was strained with worry, and Charles's heart ached for the young man.

The lad was good company, and a strong boy who wasn't afraid to do the right thing, even when it was the harder path to choose. Charles respected a man like that. It had been a refreshing change of pace to have the lad accompany him about town, and with his list of unwed friends growing ever shorter, a welcomed one.

Tom had had a hard life, losing his mother and raising his baby sister on his own. Charles had found the boy working at Berkley's and convinced him to abandon his job there to work for Charles. The look on his housekeeper's face when he'd brought Tom's baby sister Katherine home with them, however, had been quite amusing.

"A babe? Here? My lord..." The plump woman had begun to protest, but little Katherine had let out a hearty cry and his housekeeper had huffed and reached for the baby. "Give her here, I've got some milk I can heat up for the wee one."

A room had been provided below stairs for Linley and his sister, and the servants had seemed to take to both the lad and the babe instantly.

Charles had to admit that having a baby around was...interesting. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed being around children sometimes. He'd helped raise his own sister, Ella, who was over a decade younger than him. Despite his personal aversion to marriage and wives, he had no qualms with children or infants.

The only problem with the babe under his roof was that the upstairs maids, ones he'd often stolen a kiss or two from when the mood took him and if they happened to be smiling back at him, had changed. Now they would rush to the baby's room to hush it if it cried, rather than rush to him if he crooked a finger.

All the more reason for him and Linley to visit Charles's usual haunts in pursuit of pleasure.

Sitting up in bed, Charles shoved his covers back and swung his feet over the side. He was still half-dressed in his trousers and white lawn shirt.