Page 49 of Married to the Icy Duke (Duke Wars #3)

“ W ill he hang, do you think?”

Isaac flinched, blinking. He had not realized that Charlotte knew he was there.

Tommy was fast asleep, tucked up in his bed. The little boy was clearly unaware of the danger he'd been in.

Had he been in danger? Would Matthew have hurt him? Isaac wasn’t sure. Now that the danger was over, his gut told him no , but he wasn’t sure he could rely on anything he felt at the moment.

It was past midnight now. Mary had gone to bed, and the guests were gone, herded out by the constables.

Far from ruining their party, Isaac wryly thought that it had only made them more infamous, the invitations to any future parties more sought-after.

The constables had taken Matthew, who did not resist. Statements had been taken from all present.

Now that the panic and excitement were over, Isaac found that he could not sleep. He’d paced the halls for a while, then his feet took him to Tommy’s nursery door.

Inching it open, the light from the hallway fell across the little boy’s bed. Charlotte lay beside him, curled up on top of the covers. Her eyes were open and distinctly watchful, and she mechanically smoothed Tommy’s hair back from his forehead.

“Hang?” Isaac repeated. “Matthew, you mean?”

She nodded. “What he did was wrong, but I am not sure he deserves to hang. He never meant Tommy any harm; he only wanted to replace his brother, I think. A large part of me pities him.”

Isaac nodded. He was determined not to allow himself to think about Matthew, or Jasper, or the sight of Matthew sitting so precariously in the window of that tower, with Tommy in his arms. He moved closer, peering down at the little boy fast asleep in bed, as if to reassure himself that he was still there.

“Matthew won’t hang,” he said aloud. “He’s awake now, in a way. Awake to what he has done and who he has hurt. Perhaps … Perhaps he’ll be a better man for this. And since Tommy is unhurt, I can forgive him.”

Forgive. What a strange word. What a strange concept , forgiveness. Matthew wanted it with all his heart.

Perhaps I want it, too. I did promise, after all, to keep Jasper safe.

Inching closer still, Isaac crouched down beside the bed. Tommy’s long eyelashes fluttered on his cheek. He let out a ragged, sleepy sigh, fidgeting in his sleep.

“He sleeps so soundly,” Charlotte whispered. “So soundly, considering what has happened.”

“He doesn’t understand, and frankly, I’m relieved for him. We should let him forget it, eh?”

Charlotte glanced across at Isaac, her eyes dark in the gloomy room. Isaac felt a familiar hitch in his throat, a tightness in his chest.

How can she have such a powerful effect on me? I can see how men might have once thought that women had bewitched them.

“You know,” Charlotte said, her voice soft and almost dreamlike, “I always believed that I would make a terrible mother. After all, my mother was … Selfish is the right word. She did love us, in her way, but it was never enough. A woman who would organize the murder of her own husband just to move her lover into the house was never going to be a good mother, I suppose. And her blood is mine, isn’t it?

I did believe that I would become like her.

I thought it was inevitable. But now, I can’t help but wonder whether I could be different after all. ”

“You are nothing like that woman,” Isaac murmured. “I know that for certain.”

“Now I believe that I know it, too,” Charlotte continued, shaking her head.

Her brows knitted together. “I love Tommy like my own child. The fear I felt when he was gone, it… it struck me to the core. It felt as though it would kill me. I would never let someone hurt him. Now that I know Tommy and love him, my mother’s choice to orchestrate a murder, putting us in danger for selfish reasons, seems even more horrific.

How could she do it, Isaac? How could she do it to us? I cannot fathom it.”

He reached out, placing a hand on hers. “You cannot fathom it because you are not like her .”

She lifted her chin, nodding slowly.

“No,” Charlotte murmured thoughtfully. “I am not.” She paused and gave a tentative smile. “She came to our wedding, did I tell you that?”

Isaac sucked in a breath. “Does your brother know?”

Charlotte shook her head. “I thought it best if he didn’t know. She meant no harm. She didn’t come to disrupt anything. I saw regret in her eyes, and I longed to feel something for her, but there was just … just nothing. Nothing besides pity.”

Isaac watched her carefully, waiting for her to speak again. Gently, so as not to disturb Tommy, Charlotte pushed herself up onto one arm, staring absently down at the little boy.

“He trusts me,” Charlotte whispered, and Isaac knew without asking that she meant Tommy. “He trusts me, and I suppose … I suppose I will simply have to become the mother he needs, just as you’re becoming the father he needs.”

Isaac nodded slowly. “He called us Mama and Papa, do you remember? I shan’t allow him to forget his real Mama and Papa, but …” he paused, smiling ever so slightly. “I won’t deny that it felt good.”

Charlotte was looking at him now, her eyes glimmering in the dark.

“Don’t you sometimes feel … don’t you sometimes wonder … whether we might give Tommy a little brother or sister of his own?” she whispered, her voice catching. “Of our own?”

Isaac glanced up, his throat working.

Was she joking? Was she serious?

Yes, came the immediate answer. She means it.

He rose unsteadily to his feet. “You are not yourself, Charlotte. This isn’t what we agreed.”

“No, but … but could we not renegotiate terms?”

Her voice was not steady, but in the dark, Isaac struggled to read her face. He tried anyway, staring in vain at her blurry, shadowed features.

“Matthew was right, you know,” he murmured, the words seeming to come from deep inside him.

“I couldn’t protect his brother. I couldn’t protect Tommy.

If Matthew had intended real harm, he could have done it.

I am not a man who deserves a family of his own.

I can’t say the same for you, Charlotte, but it’s too late to think about that. Why should I be blessed with children?”

“That isn’t …”

“You’re about to say that it isn’t fair.

Well, it isn’t. It isn’t fair. But nor is life.

Ours is a marriage of convenience. Those were my rules.

Those were your rules, before you changed your mind.

There is no reason why we should give in now.

I’ve made up my mind that things will go back to the way they were, and that is that.

This is the best for everybody, and I believe you’ll see that, with time. I hope this will be enough for you.”

There was a long, tight silence. After a moment, Charlotte carefully clambered off the bed, managing not to wake Tommy as she went.

She stood in front of Isaac, staring up at him.

A single strip of moonlight slipped through the curtains, illuminating her face.

Her eyes were heavy with tears, and it made his chest constrict.

Her gaze was fixed firmly on his face, never wavering for an instant.

“You hope it’ll be enough, do you?” she said, her voice trembling. “Is it enough for you?”

Isaac swallowed hard and tilted up his chin. “It will have to be.”

She waited for a moment, as if she hoped he would change his mind or say something else. Isaac found himself holding his breath.

“I see,” she said at last, and this time her voice didn’t shake. “So be it, then. Goodnight, husband.”

The word felt flat and stiff, like it was made of cardboard. Without waiting for a reply, Charlotte turned on her heel and slipped out of the room. She closed the door fully behind her, plunging Isaac into darkness.

One Week Later

Tristan eyed the billiards table and sighed.

“That was a terrible shot.”

Isaac gritted his teeth, straightening up. He gripped the cue stick so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear it snap.

“I know,” he responded tightly.

“You’re playing awfully today.”

“I know .”

Sighing, Tristan scratched the underside of his chin with the pool cue.

“I suppose we should be grateful that we didn’t spar today. I might have killed you.”

“Tristan, you’re mere seconds away from being beaten half to death with a cue stick.”

Tristan grinned. “With the way your luck is going, I rather fancy my chances. You’ve been like a bear with a sore head over the past week.”

“Perhaps I’m a little on edge from the fact that my nephew was kidnapped no more than seven days ago. The day after I was married, no less,” Isaac added. “Your shot.”

Tristan eyed the table, leaned over, and took a careful shot. A ball bounced into the pocket, and Isaac fought back a groan of annoyance.

“A little birdie told me that the Duke and Duchess of Devils aren’t on speaking terms anymore,” Tristan said mildly. “That might explain your ill humor.”

Isaac shot him a furious stare. “If one of your little birdies has made its nest in my home, Tristan, I swear …”

“Oh, calm down. You know me. I know things , Isaac. And this is only between us, because you are my friend and I care about you, for heaven’s sake.

I know that you care for Charlotte—and let’s not waste time with you denying it, because I won’t believe you—and it’s clear that this trouble between you is making you unhappy. ”

Isaac was quiet for a moment, clutching the cue stick.

“If you must know, she is the one who is avoiding me.”

Tristan sniffed, taking another shot. The ball bounced off the corner, and he stifled a curse.

“Rats. Your turn, Isaac. Now, I shall assume that you’re the reasonable, intelligent man that I know my friend to be, and that you know why she is so angry at you. I shall also assume that this little feud is your fault, because let’s be frank, it probably is.”

Isaac didn’t bother arguing. He took another shot and missed by a mile.

“I am not the sort of man who would make her happy,” he muttered, straightening up again.

Tristan sighed. “Have you tried, Isaac? What’s more, have you decided to allow yourself happiness?”

“Decided to allow … heavens, what does that even mean?”

“It means, my friend, that you seem intent on punishing yourself. Believe me, it is a rare enough thing for happiness to fall into one’s lap. You’d be a fool to cast it aside.”

Click . The cue stick struck one of the balls, which went rolling merrily into the pocket. Grinning, Tristan lined himself up for another shot.

If he sinks one more ball, he’ll win.

“You’re calling me a fool, are you?” Isaac responded shortly.

Tristan grinned, his attention on the ball and his shot.

“Why, of course not, old friend. A fool, for example, would let his wife go on ignoring him. A fool would let a beautiful woman who is very nearly in love with him slip away. A fool would let his pride and fear—yes, fear, Isaac, don’t glare at me in that way—keep him from seizing at a wonderful thing when it is right in front of him.

A fool, Isaac, would lose love for want of taking action.

You are many things, Isaac, but you are not a man who avoids taking action.

You are not a coward. You are not a fool . ”

Click.

The ball went skidding across the green baize, bouncing across the pocket but not quite going in. Tristan straightened up, sucking his teeth.

“Would you look at that,” he remarked. “I missed. You have another shot.”

Isaac stared at the balls and tightened his grip on the cue stick.

“I think,” he began slowly, “that you will have to finish this game by yourself.”

Not waiting for a response, he pushed the stick towards Tristan, turned on his heel, and raced out of the room.

It could have been his imagination, but he was sure he heard Tristan laughing behind him.

“Her Grace is in the nursery, I believe,” Perling said, looking rather confused. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I believed you were at your club all day. Her Grace intends to visit her brother for dinner, and so nothing much has been prepared. Perhaps …”

“Never mind, Perling, never mind,” Isaac shot back over his shoulder, taking the stairs two at a time.

Outside, lavender twilight fell across the gardens. The busy London traffic was slowly winding down, and lights were coming on in windows. Isaac had indeed planned to spend the whole day at his club, taking dinner and possibly even supper there.

He had not been able to shake the idea of Charlotte, miserably eating dinner by herself at a lonely table, but now it seemed that she would never have let that happen. He should have known that a woman like Charlotte was not given to moping, not even if her heart was broken.

I can only pray that her heart is not broken.

He opened the nursery door, finding himself breathless.

Inside, Charlotte was in the middle of reading a bedtime story to Tommy, who was already asleep. She flinched when he burst in, eyes widening.

“Isaac,” she gasped. “You’re home.”

Isaac breathed out slowly.

Calm yourself, fool.

“Finish the story, if you like,” he murmured, careful not to wake Tommy. “Then meet me in my bedroom, wife. Promptly.”

Without waiting for her to reply, he closed the door again.