Page 40 of Married to the Icy Duke (Duke Wars #3)

R ain on a wedding day is bad luck, Charlotte thought, watching water sluice down the windowpane. Is it only rain that’s bad luck, or is a storm worse luck? Is it possible that only yesterday I was painting in the sunlight with Isaac and Tommy? And today, it rains.

She didn’t voice her worries aloud. There would only be a flood of reassurances, reminders that we make our own luck, that they lived in England and so rain on an important day was all but guaranteed.

Frankly, Charlotte was too tired for it all. She had been up since before dawn. They all had.

“There,” Thalia said, with a hint of pride in her voice. “Your hair is done. What do you think?”

Charlotte inspected her reflection in the mirror. She felt as though she’d done nothing else since she got up. Everyone else buzzed around her like bees while Charlotte sat still, staring at herself in the vanity mirror, the choking scent of flowers filling her room.

Thalia had done well with her hair. It was elaborately braided and twisted, carefully piled up on top of her head. Ringlets were pulled strategically down, resting on the back of her neck.

“I look rather different, I think,” Charlotte said at last.

Thalia bent down to put her face beside Charlotte’s.

“Good different, or bad different?”

Charlotte smiled faintly. “Good different.”

“Excellent. Now, stand up, and let me get another good look at your gown.”

Charlotte obeyed, with much rustling and crumpling of fabric.

Her gown still felt strange and alien to her.

Swathed in a torrent of blue silk with that daringly low neckline, she felt like a walking waterfall.

The bodice was tighter than Charlotte preferred, but she had to admit that it flattered her to perfection.

The gloves were a present from Gabriel and Thalia, the most shockingly expensive white lace, trimmed with heavy seed-pearls. She flexed her hands, watching the lace crumple.

“Well?” Madeline prompted eagerly. “What do you think?”

Madeline had spent a good deal of the morning reading a book. It was not her fault, Thalia had simply taken over all the preparations and there was nothing left for poor Madeline to do. Now, however, Madeline had put aside her book and had come to stand behind Charlotte, beaming.

“I like it,” Charlotte managed. “It’s perfect. You’ve both worked so hard, thank you.”

The words came out flat. Thalia caught her eye in the mirror, eyes narrowing.

“Our bride-to-be needs a little privacy, I think.” Thalia announced. “Madeline, would you be a dear and check on the bouquet? It ought to be ready.”

Madeline nodded and obeyed, followed by a host of maids and ladies’ maids, all sent to help the bride on her wedding day.

Charlotte sank down into her seat, careful not to crumple her gown.

She stared down at the jewels set out for her to wear.

A diamond bracelet which would be mostly hidden under the gloves, a matching necklace, and a set of glittering diamond earrings which bounced and danced in the light when she moved her head.

They were a gift from Isaac. He had sent them only that morning.

“Now,” Thalia said firmly. “Tell me what is wrong.”

Charlotte swallowed. “Nothing is wrong.”

“I am excellent at sniffing out a liar, my dear, so let’s dispense with the formalities. You are unhappy, so tell me why. Do you have cold feet? Are you rethinking the whole wedding business? It’s not too late to call it off.”

Charlotte scoffed. “I rather think it is.”

Thalia tensed her jaw. Coming around to the side of Charlotte’s seat, she crouched down, taking her hands, and forced Charlotte to look her in the eye.

“We can call off the wedding,” she said quietly. “Charlotte, look at me. If you truly cannot care for this man, if you dislike him so intensely…”

“I don’t dislike him,” Charlotte burst out, a tinge of desperation in her voice. “That’s just it, Thalia. I do not dislike him. In fact, I like him entirely too much. That’s the trouble.”

Thalia blinked up at her, a faint line appearing between her brows. “I don’t understand.”

Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want Gabriel to know this. Or anybody. Do you understand?”

“I am pleased that you are taking me into your confidence, Charlotte, but if you have serious misgivings about the wedding …”

Charlotte broke away, getting up to pace the room. She felt almost like a caged animal, one that was about to glimpse an opened door.

But this caged animal was quite happy in its cage, and was not at all sure what it might see beyond the open door.

“I expected to dislike him. I was prepared for it. I never sought love, Thalia. I always thought it was a waste of time, and I knew Gabriel agreed with me, once upon a time. Love got our father killed, after all, and brought a usurper into our house.”

Thalia bit her lip. “That time is over, Charlotte. That was a poisonous love. Would you say that your brother and I have brought poison into your home?”

Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut. “No, of course not.”

“Love takes many forms, Charlotte. Now, are you saying that you are in love with the duke of Arkley?”

“No! No, of course not,” Charlotte gasped, feeling suddenly as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “What a ridiculous notion.”

Thalia shrugged. “Is it? You are marrying the man, after all. Everybody wants to fall in love.”

Charlotte clenched her jaw. “Well, not me. It’s a troublesome business. I wanted a marriage of convenience, and so does the duke. Feelings will only get in the way.”

Thalia eyed her shrewdly. “So, you admit that you are experiencing feelings for the duke?”

Color rushed into Charlotte’s face.

“Well, perhaps, but that is not the point.”

“Isn’t it? You cannot pretend that your feelings do not exist. And what about the duke? Is he drawn to you?”

Charlotte hesitated. Memories flooded back to her. She remembered the feel of Isaac’s strong arm around her waist. She could almost feel the brush of his knuckles against the insides of her thighs, and an answering ache in her gut made her flinch, turning away.

“I can never tell with him,” she whispered. “Sometimes I do feel as though I mean something to him, other times I feel … different.”

She swallowed hard, turning pointedly away from her reflection. Thalia was still crouching beside her empty seat, elbow resting on the cushion. Charlotte bit her lip, fighting back a rush of guilt.

I shouldn’t worry her like this.

“It doesn’t matter,” Charlotte continued briskly. “I am getting married, and that’s that. Forgive me, Thalia, and please do forget this conversation. It means nothing.”

Frowning, Thalia rose slowly to her feet.

“I will not forget it, Charlotte. Don’t you understand? I want you to be happy. We all do. If you believe that the duke will make you unhappy…”

“He won’t,” Charlotte answered firmly. Not deliberately, at least.

Thalia did not seem convinced. She took a moment, appearing to collect her thoughts, then took a step forward.

“When I say that he might make you unhappy, I don’t mean in the way a cruel man might make his wife miserable,” Thalia said at last, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t believe that the duke is a cruel man. I am talking about the pain of loving and not being loved in return.”

At that dreadful word, love , Charlotte flinched, turning away.

“Love is out of the question,” she said stoutly. “Please, Thalia, if anything is making me nervous, it’s you, now.”

Thalia bit the inside of her cheek. “Very well. I shall give you one last chance, however. Do you want to call off the wedding?”

Charlotte hesitated only for the briefest of instants. The decision had already been made, although whether it had been made by her head or her heart remained to be seen.

“No,” she answered firmly. “No, I do not want to call off the wedding.”

The wedding carriage was in need of respringing, a fact Charlotte only noticed once they were on their way.

Gabriel and Thalia sat side by side on the opposite carriage seat. Gabriel’s wedding clothes were too tight about the neck, it seemed, and he kept furiously fidgeting. Thalia leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder, their hands clasped carelessly together.

Charlotte’s bouquet was made up of wildflowers and a few wild thistles. It was beautiful, but the thick banding of burlap around the stems was not quite thick enough. If she handled it in the wrong way, the spines of the thistles pricked her fingers.

Getting blood on her new gloves would ruin them, of course, so Charlotte let the bouquet lie in her lap and did not touch it.

Thalia kept trying to catch her eye, but Charlotte just as resolutely avoided it. She was terrified that Thalia might bring up the subject in front of Gabriel. Who only knew how he might react? What if he insisted upon turning the carriage around and canceling the wedding altogether?

Charlotte allowed herself to consider what might happen if the wedding were canceled.

For one thing, it would mean that her life was over.

No respectable house in London would open to her.

The Devils would likely turn on the Orions more vengefully than ever before, and who only knew where that might lead.

Isaac would never forgive her for the humiliation. And he would be humiliated. She’d never be permitted to see Tommy again. Sybella would likely cut Charlotte out of her life, and that was a disappointing thought.

No, it was too late for misgivings and second thoughts now. This thought did something to reassure her, at least. After all, if she couldn’t change anything, why worry about it at all?

As they neared the church—the lane around it lined with empty carriages and horses waiting patiently for their riders to return—Thalia nudged Gabriel, eyeing him pointedly.

“Tell her,” she mumbled. “Tell her what you told me.”

“Thalia …”

“She deserves to be warned.”

At once, Charlotte was on edge.

“Warned? Warn me about what?” she asked warily.

Gabriel sighed, closing his eyes. “I haven’t been able to find out for sure, but it’s possible that … that she might be here.”

Charlotte’s blood seemed to run cold in her veins. “Surely not. Surely she wouldn’t, Gabriel.”

“I said I was not sure. I only heard whispers, and that of course was enough to put me on edge. I am sure she would not dare. She must know that she is not welcome. See, Thalia, Charlotte is upset. I ought not to have told her. I might have ruined the day.”

“You haven’t ruined the day,” Charlotte answered quickly. “I… I am glad that you told me now, instead of my finding out later. As you say, I am sure she wouldn’t dare.”

They traveled on in a few moments in heavy silence, before the carriage finally crept to a halt in front of the church. Even from outside, it was clear that the place was full of people.

Fear came rushing up Charlotte’s throat, choking her. She imagined all those people in there. Some of them were her friends, to be sure, but far more were simply there to gawp, to watch, to wait for her to do something wrong.

Would they be hoping for her to do something wrong? She hardly dared imagine. There would be a few anonymous gossip column writers in there, too. There must be, as the scandal sheets always seemed to know far too much about every wedding, leading one to conclude that they must have been there.

What will they write about my wedding, I wonder? Charlotte thought, heart thumping. She allowed Gabriel to help her down from the carriage, as her long, bustling dress was not easy to maneuver.

“I’ll go on inside,” Thalia said, smiling encouragingly up at Charlotte. “Don’t be too long, you two. We’re already a little late. They might think that you’re not coming.”

Charlotte couldn’t quite summon a smile at this joke. When Thalia eased open the door, she heard the murmur and bustle of countless people inside. She heard someone smother a laugh at a joke, while somebody else coughed heartily.

They’re all waiting for me.

It was a terrifying thought. Suddenly Charlotte’s low neckline seemed shocking, and her tight bodice felt as though it were trying to squeeze the life out of her.

Then, in a blink, Gabriel was at her side. He smiled down at her, offering his arm for her to take. Charlotte mechanically slipped her hand through it.

“It isn’t too late to change your mind,” he remarked.

Charlotte gave a wry smile. She thought about off-handedly mentioning that Thalia had already said such a thing, but that would only open up a new conversation, which might easily take a turn she would rather avoid.

“I’ve made up my mind,” she heard herself say, with more assurance in her voice than she had expected. “I know what I’m doing.”

Gabriel gave her a hand a squeeze. “I know. Sometimes I forget that you’re a grown woman, and not my grubby little sister with a missing front tooth, making mud-pies in the garden. You’re quite grown up now.”

Sniffing, Charlotte lifted her chin. “One is never too old for a mud pie.”

He chuckled. “Indeed not. Before we go in, Charlotte, I would like to tell you something.”

“Go on.”

“It was you who made me understand what love meant,” he said, in something of a garbled rush.

“My precious little sister. Even at my darkest moments, I always loved you, Charlotte. I suppose that meant that when other forms of love presented themselves—I am speaking of Thalia, of course—I was ready for it. No matter what happens, no matter who comes between us, you and I, Charlotte, we’re family. We will always be family.”

She smiled up at him, feeling the prick of tears in her eyes.

“Thank you, Gabriel. That means more to me than you can know. And I can tell you that now, at this crucial moment in my life, I can imagine no one but my big brother by my side.”

Grinning, he squeezed her hand one more time.

“Amen. Now, are you ready to go in?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Yes. I’m ready. Open the door, won’t you?”