Page 33 of Married to the Icy Duke (Duke Wars #3)

Charlotte watched the pair trundle off towards a distant, colorful bank of flowers.

“The boy adores you,” Sybella said, quite unexpectedly. “You’re going to be a fine mother for him.”

Charlotte bit her lip. “I do hope so. I … I never imagined myself as a mother.”

Sybella did look a little surprised at that.

“Really? I thought every woman imagined herself with a husband and children, even if they did not particularly want them. It is a fact of life, is it not? We ladies get married, if we can, and then we have children. The second thing follows the first, generally speaking.”

Charlotte coughed gently. She had no intention of telling Sybella of the bargain she’d made with Isaac. She imagined that Sybella did not want to hear such things, just as she would not like to hear about Gabriel and Thalia’s private life.

“I … I do not think I would make a good mother,” Charlotte admitted at last. “I am easy to anger, impatient, and frankly a little selfish.”

Sybella leaned back on her elbows, eyeing Charlotte narrowly.

“You think so? I disagree. Besides, we all have flaws, do we not? You simply admit plainly to yours, which in itself is something of a virtue. You could teach a child how to paint, how to play the piano, and how to dance, just like you’ll teach Tommy those things.

You are so very sweet with Tommy, I cannot believe that you would be any different with your own children. ”

Charlotte glanced away, her throat tightening. Sybella was kind, perhaps a little too kind.

I know the truth. I know that I’d be an awful mother. I know that Gabriel is terrified of becoming a father, and frankly, I don’t blame him. Our family is not a loving and kind one. We are not … we are not cut out for raising children.

Sybella is kind, but she doesn’t know me. Not yet. Nor does Isaac. When they know the real me, their feelings will change, I know it.

She could feel Sybella’s gaze biting into the side of her face, waiting for a response.

She did not have a response, at least not one that Sybella couldn’t easily cut down.

Instead, Charlotte cleared her throat and leaned forward.

With excellent timing, Mary and Tommy were hurrying back, carrying a posy of flowers each.

“What have you there, dearest?” Charlotte called to Tommy, mercifully avoiding the necessity of responding to Sybella.

Tommy approached, smiling shyly, and offered the posy of flowers to Charlotte.

“He picked both bunches,” Mary explained, laughing, and handed her posy to Sybella. “But he insisted that I present you with yours, my lady. I think perhaps he did not want me to feel left out.”

Sybella took the flowers, laughing, and brought them to her nose. Charlotte did the same, inhaling the sweet fragrance.

“These are beautiful, Tommy,” she murmured, and the little boy beamed with delight. He had chosen wildflowers and small, sweet flowers, instead of the blown, bobbing roses and their overpowering scent.

Charlotte inspected each little flower in turn, noticing how carefully Tommy had picked them. He’d even selected a few boughs of greenery to balance out the posy.

Perhaps he will be a botanist after all, she thought with a smile. Or at the very least, a great gardener.

“I think the yellow ones are my favorite,” she said, tapping one flower in particular.

Tommy frowned, just a little, and shook his head.

“Orange,” he whispered, touching the flower again. For a moment, Charlotte was taken aback. Then she could see that he was indeed right. At first glance, the flower seemed yellow, but when looked at more closely and away from the other, more vibrant flowers at its side, it was indeed orange.

“Of course,” Charlotte said, glancing over at Sybella, who was smiling. “You are quite right, Tommy. Thank heaven you were here to keep me right.”

Tommy beamed, nodding.

“Now,” Charlotte continued, touching one fingertip to another flower. “What color would you say this is? Pink?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Red.”

The three women glanced at each other, grinning. Two words in the space of a minute! It was some kind of record.

“And this leaf here,” Charlotte urged. “It’s blue, yes?”

He shook his head again. “Green.”

“What about my flowers, Tommy?” Sybella chipped in, excitement wavering in her voice. “This large one here is white, isn’t it?”

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. “Purple, Aunt.”

Two words! Two at once! Charlotte clutched her flowers to her chest, smiling so widely that she thought her face might tear in two. Sybella flinched back, eyes wide, delighted.

“So it is,” she whispered, reaching out to touch the curve of Tommy’s plump cheek. “What a clever nephew I have.”

“What about the sky, Tommy?” Mary asked, in the excited silence that followed. “It’s rather pale today, isn’t it? Gray, do you think?”

Tommy tilted his head up to inspect the sky, then glanced back at Mary.

“Blue,” he said, in the confident tones of a child who knows he is right.

Almost at the exact same instant, the three women gave strangled screams and flung themselves at the little boy. Sybella snatched him up first, holding him tight, and Charlotte peppered kisses on his cheeks and forehead. Mary smoothed his hair back from his forehead, her eyes bright with pride.

Tommy squealed with delight, flailing to escape. He managed at last to free himself from Sybella’s tight grip and sat on the picnic blanket, giggling. Then, his gaze slipped past them all and fixed on something in the distance. He sucked in a breath, eyes widening.

“Uncle!” Tommy yelped, scrambling to his feet. “ Uncle !”