Page 54
Story: The Duke and the Wrong Bride
“Me, too!” Stephen mimicked. “Hungry! Charlotte, is there food?”
“Food? Where!”
“Hannah.” Her mother clicked her tongue. “Can you take the boys inside, please?”
“Me?” Hannah pouted. “Why am I always the one looking after them?”
“Because I asked you to.”
“Food! Food! Food!” the two boys cried in unison.
“Hannah, take them to the kitchen,” Charlotte instructed. “There should be something left over from earlier.”
Hannah looked as if it was the last thing she wanted to do, but a warning glare from her mother saw her taking both boys by the arms, leading them away. They cried out that they wanted to stay while crying out at the same time that they were hungry.
“They ate an hour ago.” Her mother sighed as she watched them go. “You would think the two of them are bottomless pits.”
“Growing boys.” Beatrice shrugged. “I’m not surprised.”
“You two were never that bad,” Charlotte’s mother continued. “And you, Charlotte, were like a bird the way you ate. At one point, I was actually worried. I thought you were going to keel over and?—”
“Mother,” Charlotte cut her off. It was all too much. As if a storm arrived on her doorstep, she was caught up in it, her day of rest and recovery now looking less and less likely. “What is going on?”
“Perhaps we should go inside, dear?” Lady Ramsbury reached out to take Charlotte by the arm.
Charlotte pulled back. “Or you can tell me now.” Again, she looked at the carriage, which was very much empty. Although now that she was looking a little closer, she noticed the trunks strapped to the roof and back… far too many trunks. “And where is Father?”
“At home, I suspect,” her mother said simply. “That stubborn, foolish man. Probably expecting me to come back with my tail between my legs. Well, I won’t! Not until he admits that he was wrong!”
Charlotte felt her stomach drop. “W-what does that mean?”
Beatrice stepped in. “They had a fight.”
“It was more than a fight!”
“She’s left him.”
“What?!” Charlotte exclaimed. “You’ve left him? What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” Her mother put her hands on her hips, as if daring Charlotte to argue with her. “He thinks he can walk all over me. Well, we shall see how he fares when he wakes up tomorrow and finds the other side of his bed empty and cold.”
“I don’t… what are you…” Charlotte’s head was spinning. “Can somebody please explain what is going on?”
“Father was nowhere near as thrilled to see me return as you might have hoped,” Beatrice started. “Furious is perhaps the most appropriate word. Says that I very nearly destroyed his entire legacy.”
“He’s petty, is what he is!” her mother added.
“He’s also worried I might run away again.” Beatrice sighed. “So, what does he go and do?” She raised an eyebrow at Charlotte, and Charlotte understood immediately.
“He didn’t?” she gasped.
“I’m to be wed next month,” Beatrice scoffed. “Literally within a day of my coming home, he’d gone and organized the whole thing. And you’ll never guess to whom.” Her entire body shuddered with disgust.
“Who?” Charlotte looked at her mother, who could not have looked angrier.
“Lord Malbourne.”
It took Charlotte a moment to remember the name. But when she did, her mouth dropped open, and suddenly, she understood why her sister was so disgusted, and her mother was so furious.
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- Page 54 (Reading here)
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