Page 16 of Married to the Icy Duke (Duke Wars #3)

T here was a lengthy silence after Tommy spoke. Charlotte stayed where she was, crouched down, clutching a gifted daisy in her hand.

“What did you say, darling?” she whispered, breaking the silence. “Can you say it again?”

Tommy dimpled and dropped his chin to his chest, shaking his head.

At once, Isaac knelt beside her, close enough to brush his broad shoulder against hers. He reached out to touch Tommy, and when Charlotte glanced at him, she had to look away at the raw desperation in his eyes.

“Say it again, Tommy. Won’t you say it again for me?” he pleaded.

Tommy was beginning to look baffled and shook his head more fervently this time.

Not entirely sure what she was doing, Charlotte lay a hand on Isaac’s forearm, squeezing warningly, hoping to dissuade him from insisting further.

Isaac glanced at her, his gaze darkening. She prayed that he would understand.

“I think perhaps Tommy is getting a little overwhelmed,” Charlotte announced. “It is very late, after all. Mary, why don’t you let Tommy pick a flower for himself, and take him up to bed?”

Mary nodded, coming forward to take the baby in her arms.

“I’ll help you put him to bed,” Sybella offered neatly. “I hardly ever see my nephew these days. You don’t mind, do you, brother?”

Isaac said nothing, but he gave a brief, brittle smile which his sister obviously interpreted as a yes.

The trio filed back into the house, Tommy already half-asleep on his nurse’s shoulder.

That left Charlotte and Isaac alone on the terrace.

It was a great breach of etiquette, leaving them alone in such a manner. Mary could not be expected to understand such matters, and nor was it her responsibility, but Sybella’s actions had surprised Charlotte a little. Perhaps she simply hadn’t thought, or perhaps she thought such rules were silly.

Perhaps she knew enough of her brother’s reputation to know that such things were a waste of time. Either way, her reasoning did not matter because now Charlotte was standing alone on a dark, secluded terrace, face to face with ostensibly the most dangerous man in the ton.

Coincidentally, also the same man she was meant to marry.

“So, now Tommy’s vocabulary has expanded to his own name and that of a flower,” Isaac said slowly, a rasp in his voice. “Well done, Charlotte. You have achieved what I and a host of professionals have not been able to achieve. What is your secret?”

Charlotte swallowed. “I … I don’t know, truly I don’t.”

He paced across the terrace, raking a hand through his hair. There was a wild, caged-animal quality to his actions, like a lion pacing its pen and looking for a way out.

It occurred to Charlotte that perhaps it would be wise for her to leave.

Her reputation would be forfeit entirely if she were known to have stood out on a terrace with a man like the Duke of Arkley, and with her reputation entirely gone, perhaps he might try to wiggle out of the marriage.

None would blame him, and then Charlotte’s last chance at a respectable life would be gone. Her heart hammered in her chest.

She did not move.

Abruptly, the duke spun around to face her. His eyes were wild and dark, and there was a line between his brows.

“How are you doing it?” he whispered. “I should doubt that you were doing anything at all, except that I saw it with my own eyes. Why does he speak to you and no one else?”

“I don’t know,” Charlotte answered honestly. “If it’s love he needs, then his nursemaid …” she trailed off, frowning. “How long has his nursemaid been with him?”

“I don’t know,” he retorted, shrugging. “A month? Perhaps two? I couldn’t find the perfect one. To be frank, Mary can be a little too insolent at times, even though she is a most efficient nurse.”

Charlotte sucked in a breath. She stepped forward, resolutely meeting his eye.

“No. You mustn’t sack Mary, not without a very good cause.”

His dark eyebrows flew up towards his hairline. “Oh? And why must I not sack Mary?”

“Because so far, in Tommy’s young life, he has never been able to convince himself that anybody would stay with him,” she said firmly.

“His parents have died tragically. He comes to live with you, a strange and aloof uncle whom he never sees. He rarely sees his Aunt Sybella. And as well as this, every nursemaid that he grows to love is abruptly dismissed by you .”

Isaac jerked back. “I have not sacked these women out of cruelty. It was not malice . I was only looking for the perfect nursemaid for Tommy.”

“I understand, but do you think Tommy understands that? And as for you …”

“Oh, yes, let’s discuss me,” Isaac snapped, eyes flashing. “I’m sure you enjoy listing my flaws.”

“I am thinking of Tommy’s good, not yours,” Charlotte retorted. “You still wonder why he speaks to me but not to you, don’t you?”

She’d struck a nerve. Isaac pinched his lips together, glancing away.

“Contrary to what you might imagine,” he responded, his voice thick, “I love my nephew very much. Despite my flaws, I would like him to … well, to like me.”

There was a brief silence after this. Charlotte found herself taken aback. She had known, she supposed, that Isaac did love Tommy, but hearing it laid out so clearly, in his own words, was not what she had expected.

A man like the Duke of Arkley, chief of the Ton’s Devils, was not the sort of man who talked of love.

“I understand,” she said, a little more softly than before, “But a child can’t be expected to understand.”

He scowled at her again, and suddenly the prickly, terrifying Duke of Arkley was back.

“That is not my concern.”

Charlotte felt anger bubbling up inside her once more.

The wretched man. Why do I even bother to try to make him understand? He deliberately refuses to understand.

“You cannot be surprised that your nephew does not talk to you,” she snapped, “when you stamp around looking as though you want to kill somebody all the time!”

He threw her a brief, surprised glance, which rapidly hardened to annoyance. He stamped towards her, coming to a stop an arm’s reach away.

“And this is what you think of me, is it?” he muttered, his voice a low hiss. “That I am a killer?”

She flinched at his harsh words. “Well,” she continued, doing her best to hold her ground, “you did go to war, did you not? And you returned from your boxing match covered with another man’s blood.”

He smiled thinly. “If that is what you think of me, my dear, you ought to be more careful, don’t you think?”

She gave an incredulous laugh, holding his gaze. His eyes seemed to burn into hers. She would not allow herself to look away. It was a battle, and one she did not intend to lose.

“Perhaps it would be prudent to be afraid,” she said at last. “But I am not given to prudent choices. I am not afraid of you.”

The duke’s eyes were dark, shadowed by the moonlight, and the few torches set on the terrace caused strange shadows to jump across his face, following the angular planes and curves of his cheekbones and jaw. He took a step forward, looming over her.

“Perhaps you should be,” he whispered softly.

Her breath stuck in her throat, and warmth coiled in her gut. Like before, Charlotte found herself seized by a desire to step forward and touch . She was not quite sure what she wanted to touch, or even what she wanted, but all she knew was that something had to happen.

It was like shaking up a sealed bottle of something fermented and setting it down on a counter. It would explode, sooner or later, and there was no sense in pretending that it wouldn’t. She only stood there, saying nothing, and held his gaze. The seconds ticked away between them.

And then the duke let out a long, slow sigh and trailed his fingers through his hair once more.

“Do you really think that Tommy finds me intimidating?” he said at last, his voice low. “You think that I should try to look less … deadly?”

Charlotte blinked, a little taken aback by the sudden change in tone.

“I do,” she responded, swallowing. “Many adults find you intimidating, and children are frightened of more things than adults. Perhaps fewer darker colors, or …”

“Black and red are Devil colors.”

She shot him an annoyed glance. “I am not sure that Tommy cares about your club.”

“Fair,” he conceded, flashing a twisted grin that made her heart seem to constrict in her chest. “What else?”

Charlotte shifted, thinking.

“There is no question that Tommy loves you,” she added, after a moment’s hesitation. “But we can be afraid of those we love.”

His jaw tightened. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I do not want Tommy to be afraid of me.”

“Do you spend time with him?”

He blinked, glancing away. “I do my best. If I have time, I see Tommy once a day, for at least ten minutes.”

He seemed a little proud of that, as if seeing a child for ten minutes a day was more than enough.

“Babies require more time than that,” Charlotte said at last, choosing her words carefully.

He lifted his eyebrows. “Well, if I have time to spare, I’ll see him more.”

She frowned. “No, not if you have time to spare . You must make time. This is important, Isaac.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You do not and cannot understand the responsibilities I carry. Dukedoms need their dukes. I have duty to think of.”

The correct thing to say in response, of course, was something mild and then make suggestions as to how much time Isaac could spend with his nephew.

Unfortunately, Charlotte began talking before she could even consider what the sensible thing to say might be.

“Duty? Ha!” she responded, uttering a short laugh. “Don’t talk to me of duty.”

“Why should I not? You’re a young woman with nothing to occupy your time but parties and a potential marriage,” he shot back. “Your only duties are shopping.”

Charlotte took a step closer, bringing herself almost nose to nose with the man.

Well, nose to chest, as he was still a great deal taller than she.

“Oh, is that what you think of me?” she snarled. “That I am a silly, pampered miss with no duty of her own? You are wrong, sir.”