Page 22 of Married to the Icy Duke (Duke Wars #3)

C harlotte glanced up in time to see Isaac striding back into the teashop, his expression black and moody.

The conversation with the strange Lord Bentley hadn’t lasted long, but it had clearly rattled Isaac a good deal.

The proprietor had arrived and was just taking their orders.

“None for me, thank you,” Charlotte said hurriedly, getting up from her seat and rushing to intercept him. She reached Isaac and found him staring down at her with an inquisitive expression.

“You look terrifying,” she said shortly. “I don’t want you taking out your mood on Mary and Tommy.”

He scowled. “How dare you …”

“Come outside with me, I’ll explain it.”

Without giving herself a chance to think twice, she looped her arm through his and dragged him back out of the teashop.

Of course, Charlotte was under no illusions. She was not dragging the duke; he was allowing himself to be dragged. There was a big difference.

The air seemed heavier outside the genteel little teashop, and the streets were noticeably more crowded. It was too loud and busy to have a serious conversation. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Charlotte craned her neck, looking for a quiet spot.

She found one in the form of a small park, the entranceway only a little way up the road. She scurried toward it, with Isaac striding grimly beside her.

This wasn’t one of the large, fashionable parks, of course.

It was a much smaller space, consisting only of a neat little green and some small shrubberies and tree-lined walks.

However, it was empty, and Charlotte allowed herself a sigh of relief to step inside.

She released Isaac’s arm—why had she held onto it for so long?

—and turned to face him. She placed her hands on her hips and lifted her eyebrows.

They were obliged to keep walking, of course. It was bad enough to be here in such circumstances. Charlotte glanced nervously over her shoulder and was relieved to see that they were not being followed.

“You had no right to whisk me away in that manner,” Isaac said curtly. “Perhaps I was looking forward to eating ices.”

She pursed her lips. “Were you?”

“Well, no. But that is not the point.”

“No, this is the point. Every single one of us endures bad moods and tempers. It’s entirely natural. But one cannot take those moods out on a child like Tommy.”

Isaac’s eye darkened. “I had no intention of doing such a thing.”

“No, you did not,” she conceded. “But you would have sat at that table, scowling and furious, and the atmosphere would have turned cold. We would all have been uncomfortable, and Tommy would have felt that. You would not have intended to do it, but you would have ruined the ices for him.”

For a moment, Isaac looked furious, as though he were going to argue. Then his shoulders sagged, just a little.

“I had not thought of that,” he muttered, half turning away.

“I know that you would not have been sharp with him,” Charlotte added. “But you would have been sharp with others. With Mary, perhaps. That is not fair, is it?”

“I would have regretted it later.”

“Well, I have prevented you from regretting it at all.”

He glanced back at her, eyebrows lifting.

“Yes,” he murmured at last. “I suppose you have. You are more insightful than you appear, Charlotte.”

She chuckled. “That is not exactly a compliment, but I shall take it as one anyway. Thank you.”

Isaac gave the tiniest smile, a bare twitch of his mouth, but it made Charlotte’s chest constrict even so.

Stop it, she scolded herself. You brought him out here to calm him down, to stop him from ruining Tommy’s first experience of Gunter’s, and that is all!

At that moment, a pair of women entered the park, arm in arm, chattering eagerly about something. They threw curious glances at Charlotte and Isaac, and recognition flared in their eyes.

“Curses,” Charlotte whispered. “We should walk over here, where it’s more quiet.”

Isaac did not object, allowing her to steer him towards a narrow walkway which circled the path.

It was enclosed by thick trees and undergrowth and provided a little privacy.

The moment they stepped under the trees, the air seemed to grow cooler and cleaner.

Charlotte breathed in, allowing herself to luxuriate in the fresh air.

She could almost forget why she was here.

“Green,” Isaac said, thoughtfully. “Your favorite color. Tommy’s favorite color, I think. I can see why. It is a restful shade.”

Charlotte gave a wry smile. “Green isn’t his favorite color. He chose the color almost at random, because it is my favorite. When he grows older and becomes more … more himself , he’ll choose a new color.”

Isaac walked along in silence for a moment or two, absorbing this. Charlotte braced herself for what came next, but was still not quite ready for it.

“Why would he choose your favorite color,” Isaac said at last, slowly, “and not mine?”

She glanced up at him to see whether he was joking or not, but he seemed entirely serious.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s known me for years, and you for a week, no more. Why would he choose your favorite color as his own?”

She bit her lip, eyeing him thoughtfully. “Have you ever told him your favorite color?”

There was a longer silence this time.

“I am not even sure that I have one,” Isaac admitted at last, his voice heavy. “Black, perhaps. I take your meaning, Charlotte.”

She gave him an encouraging smile. “Tommy needs a man to look up to. Somebody to imitate. Why should that not be you? If you’d only make yourself available for him to imitate, that is. I am glad you came out with us today.”

He threw her a quick, answering smile. “In truth, I am glad I came. With the exception of running into Matthew, I am glad I was here.”

At the very mention of Lord Bentley, however, his expression darkened, and he seemed to withdraw into himself. Charlotte bit her lip, eyeing him curiously.

“It’s not my concern, of course,” she ventured hesitantly, when he made no move to break the silence, “But what was Lord Bentley speaking to you about? You were clearly angry, and he was … he was angry, but in a cold sort of way. He made me feel uneasy.”

Isaac glanced sharply at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Charlotte thought that he was going to tell her to mind her own business. Perhaps he might be right, in this instance.

But Isaac only sighed and shook his head.

“We were friends once, Matthew and I. Not very close friends, as I was much closer to his younger brother, Jasper. Matthew, of course, was going to be the Viscount Bentley one day, and so he spent a great deal of time with his father, learning. As I said, all of us were friends.”

Charlotte waited to see if Isaac would say more. She had never met a friend of Isaac’s named Jasper, but then neither had she heard much of Viscount Bentley. There was something more to the story here, and she hoped Isaac would tell her.

Apparently not. He clenched his jaw and stopped, turning her to face him. A light breeze had blown up, causing the trees around them to shiver and shake, rustling in the wind. Above them, a few handfuls of cherry blossom petals detached and floated to the ground.

If she hadn’t known better, Charlotte might have considered it to be romantic.

Now, that was a silly thought.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to him in that manner,” Isaac burst out at last.

Charlotte was sure she must have misheard.

“I beg your pardon?” she managed, incredulous. “I was defending …”

“Don’t misunderstand me,” he interrupted.

“I am not saying that you were wrong, or that you ought not to speak your mind. Your words were correct, and I heartily appreciate their sentiment. However, men like Matthew are … well, they have a danger about them which you might not readily understand. At the moment, with his mind ordered the way it is, he is not a man to be crossed. He is not a man to offend.”

Charlotte stared up at him, shocked. “And I have offended him, is that what you are saying?”

“I am saying,” he repeated, his voice wavering on the edge of calm, “that whether you are right or wrong, it is a mistake to talk back to men like Matthew. It is not safe.”

“I see,” Charlotte managed at last, her words more clipped than she had intended. “And what about you, then? Is it safe to talk back to you, or should I mind my tongue and mind my manners around my betrothed, too?”

Isaac sucked in a sharp, outraged breath, his expression darkening. He made an obvious attempt to control his anger, curling his fingers into fists and taking a second or two to compose himself.

“Of course that is not what I mean,” he said at last, his voice thick with anger. “I can control my temper, believe it or not. I am no longer sure what Matthew is capable of.”

Charlotte pursed her lips, folding her arms tight across her chest. “There.”

He blinked down at her, eyes narrowing. “What?”

She pointed. “There. That expression on your face, that deadly angry one, that is the sort of expression that will scare Tommy. Children are very impressionable, you know. They are easily frightened.”

He rolled his eyes. “Should I not teach Tommy to be stronger and less afraid?”

“You should,” she acknowledged, “but not by terrifying him at every turn.”

“That is not what I mean.”

“I know, but you must understand it even so. Some parents are…” she paused, searching for the words. “Some parents are harsh, without quite meaning to be so. I don’t want to see you treat Tommy harshly.”

He gave a wry smile. “How could I, with you at my side? He’ll have the best advocate in the world.”

Now, this did feel like a compliment, and Charlotte allowed herself a quick, pleased smile.

“I shall do my best,” she responded, as coolly as she could. “I won’t allow you to scare him.”

He tilted his head and took a step towards her. “Do I scare you , Charlotte?”