Page 26 of His Duchess of Scandal (Brides of Scandal #1)

Chapter Nineteen

“ C harles,” Hermia called out once they returned home.

He had barely gotten two paces towards his study, where he intended to pour himself a glass of brandy and forget the discomfort of the evening. But now he turned back, looking at her from across the hall.

“Yes?”

“I—” She hesitated, wringing her fingers. “Thank you for defending me against Lady Farnshaw.”

“She was out of order,” Charles said.

His eyes roamed over her dark red dress, hemmed with silver thread. Her dark hair was pinned to accentuate her fine features while complementing the fall of waves over her shoulders.

“Regardless of our circumstances, Hermia, we are family now. Your own did not defend you when you needed them, and I will not be like them.” He met her bright blue eyes, hesitating slightly.

“And I am sorry. For what it is worth, I am sorry for my discourteous behavior towards you. And towards Phoebe. But I will apologize to her, too.”

“I think that is best,” Hermia said quietly.

Heavens, she was beautiful. He had thought so ever since he had met her at Bentley’s party, had thought so ever since she arrived in the chapel. No, since before then, when she had shown up wide-eyed and frantic on his doorstep, hollering about the painting.

He stopped looking towards the study, stopped wishing to leave her presence, and simply lingered. He lingered beneath her gaze… and then slowly moved towards her.

He did not know what he intended to do. The memory of their kiss in the parlor remained at the forefront of his mind.

But he could not bring himself to draw any closer. She was within reach. All it would take was extending his hand towards her, and he’d be cupping her face.

But he didn’t.

He clenched his fist and tucked it behind his back.

“Thank you for apologizing.” Hermia blinked, as if realizing the moment had passed. “It is… strange to hear it.”

Charles released a breath, not quite a laugh but an acknowledgement, nonetheless.

“Well then,” he said, “good night, Hermia. Sleep well.”

Once again, he lingered, his eyes flitting over her face.

Everything in him ached to get closer, to pull her into him, but he forced himself to step back, bypassing his study, and instead retreated to his room.

If he listened out for her footsteps on the other side of the connecting door, and if he held his breath, waiting to see if she would ever knock as she had that first night when he had wanted her so desperately but still turned her away out of a twisted sense of duty, then that was only between himself and his pounding heart.

Charles actively tried to work less after Phoebe had broken the family heirloom. He hadn’t been angry at her—not truly, not to the extent he had shouted or confiscated her toys—but he wanted her to know that she could not simply throw a tantrum whenever she needed attention.

Still, he did not fail to notice how Hermia easily involved Phoebe in her day-to-day life. He couldn’t understand how she made it appear so natural and effortless. Perhaps it was because Phoebe could not exactly sit in on his work, but she could with Hermia.

His wife could teach her how to be a lady, and even if Charles didn’t always agree with her methods, he had to admit that Phoebe was learning more. He had seen her fix her hair in front of a mirror and pinch her cheeks to give them color.

Several days after the dinner party, the butler knocked on his study door, interrupting his focus. “Your Grace, you are required in the dining hall within the hour.”

Charles shook his head. “I am dining in here tonight, as I instructed.”

“I am afraid Her Grace has asked for your instruction to be overridden.”

Charles let his quill clatter onto his desk. “ Overridden ?”

“By order of both her and Lady Phoebe.” The butler’s lips twitched, as if he was suppressing a smile, and Charles… well, he was helpless to it. Especially when the butler added, “Her Grace is invited, too.”

Charles’s stomach sank in realization.

“Oh, Heavens, no.” He groaned, pushing a hand through his hair,

It meant Levi was part of this secret dinner party that he knew nothing about.

“Indeed, Lord Trewford is due to arrive very soon. Her Grace suggests that you clean up well for the occasion . She has spent a lot of time on it.”

Clearly, my wife has taken one apology to mean she can have free rein and do anything she pleases .

Charles was mildly annoyed and mildly amused.

He stood up and shuffled his papers back together. He was planning on visiting some cottages later that week, so he would need his affairs in order and to make sure that Phoebe would not kick up a fuss.

“Very well,” he sighed. “Tell Her Grace I will be there soon.”

He could swear he saw the butler hide a smile as he led the way out of his study.

An hour later, he entered the dining hall, dressed in his finery, and immediately locked eyes with Hermia.

“We will discuss this surprise later.”

Next to her, Phoebe burst into a fit of giggles.

Charles eyed her, too. “I suppose you had a hand in this, too, young lady?”

“I did!” Phoebe cried happily. “I wanted to apologize for breaking the vase. I know you like food, so this made sense! And Lord Trewford is coming!”

“I believe so,” Charles muttered. “Where is he, then?”

Hermia stifled a laugh. “I told him to arrive after you, and I knew you would show up on time, so I assume he will be here at any?—”

Behind Charles, the doors to the dining hall swung open, and in strode Levi, his blonde hair catching the light above. His grin was already fixed in place as he motioned for a footman to bring in several boxes.

“A belated wedding gift,” he announced. “And several gifts for the prettiest lady of the ton.”

He pulled a rose out of his pocket and offered it to Phoebe, who snatched it and clutched it to her chest.

“Thank you, Lord Trewford!” she said, rising to her feet.

Charles threw out an arm to stop her from throwing herself at his friend.

“We’ll have dinner before opening the gifts,” he told the room. “The Duchess has gone through a lot of trouble to arrange this. Let us not get distracted now.”

Levi scowled at him, dismissing his moodiness as always, but sat down regardless. Phoebe lowered herself into her seat.

Hermia gave Levi an easy, soft smile. Charles knew it was not affection, but his irritation flared at the thought of her feeling more carefree with Levi than with him.

His actions certainly did not help.

When the first course was served, Levi had already launched into a tale that had Phoebe engrossed, curious and intrigued.

“As you already know, your father and I go way back,” he was saying. “But Lady Phoebe, I am certain you do not know that your father broke into one of our university’s observatories when he was younger. Ah, those Cambridge days, yes?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Yes, I was quite a different man back then. My wife and daughter do not wish to be bored with?—”

“Yes, we do,” Hermia cut in. “Yes, we very much do. Levi, do tell us about this absolute rascal who broke into university property.”

“Oh, I do believe it was an autumn day, was it not?” Levi asked loudly.

Charles glowered at him. “Winter,” he corrected. “It was icy, and that was partially the reason we broke in. We wanted to get warm, and I had left blankets up there.”

“To woo ladies ,” Levi emphasized. “Again, more improper flirting by sneaking ladies onto the campus.”

“Heavens.” Hermia giggled.

“Heavens!” Phoebe echoed.

Levi smirked as he picked up his wine glass.

“One particular day, Charles wanted to see a star that was due to be visible. He claimed it was for a project for a science class, but to this day, I believe he just wanted to be a hopeless romantic and stargaze. Perhaps even imagine himself stargazing with someone.”

“Levi,” Charles said tersely. “Get to the point. I am sure you will lose our listeners.”

“Not at all,” Hermia assured. “Do continue.”

“Well, Charles had the bright idea of smashing the lock on the observatory door with a whiskey bottle he smuggled there. However, he did not consider that the bottle would break instead of the lock, and he would end up with quite a spill. We were caught, of course, and we made a run for it. Only, Charles doubled back and snuck in through a window that had a loose latch. And—well, it was a bit of a disaster, but we got out there, and we saw that star, and one of us had the foresight not to smash their liquor bottle, so we drank and looked out.”

“Do you remember what I told you up there?” Charles murmured, sipping on his wine.

“Yes,” Levi answered. “You told me that you did not want the looming pressure of the dukedom, that you did not know how to fix what had been broken. You told me that you wanted to watch the stars with your future Duchess. That you wanted to at least have a duchess who might like watching stars with you.”

Silence settled over the dining hall for a minute, before Phoebe exclaimed, “Oh, Papa ! That is so romantic!”

“Did you?” Hermia asked quietly.

A longer silence ensued.

“Did I what?” Charles looked at her, finding a devastatingly hopeful look on her face.

“Watch stars with a duchess.”

He didn’t know if it was his imagination or if her voice had grown breathless. Her eyes were framed by her long, dark lashes, and he could only stare at her, forgetting stars ever existed.

“No,” he breathed. “No, I did not.”

“I see,” Hermia uttered.

“Do you like stars, Hermia?” Phoebe asked loudly, not noticing the tension between them.

“I do,” Hermia answered.

It felt like a confirmation of something Charles hadn’t realized he had been waiting for ever since that night at the observatory.

The fact that he had found the duchess he had been aching for. The fact that Levi had been right; he had been a hopeless romantic before Society, duty, and his mother had forced it out of him.

“Huh,” Levi murmured. “I never realized that. I suppose it is true; Mercy was never one for such soft things.”

“Mercy?” Hermia frowned.