Page 8 of Married to the Icy Duke (Duke Wars #3)

C harlotte had slept poorly. It was to be expected, of course, after the night she had had.

She must have dozed at some point, since the Duke of Arkley’s face wound its way into her dreams, grinning wolfishly down at her.

She dreamed that he lifted his hand to remove his eyepatch, and her heart thudded with anticipatin.

He never did remove it, though, although the dream carried on in expectation that he would at any moment. It was a strange and confusing dream, and Charlotte was glad to wake from it.

She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom. She had recently painted the whole room a jolly shade of sage green. Charlotte supposed she had hoped that this would make her feel more at home and less like an unwanted guest now that Thalia was here.

Closing her eyes, Charlotte placed a cushion over her face and groaned into it.

It wasn’t Thalia’s fault, naturally. It was the way of things. Before, when Gabriel was unmarried, Charlotte was the lady of the house. Now that Thalia was here, she was the lady of the house, and Charlotte was demoted to the position of spinster once more.

Unwanted. In the way. An embarrassment.

Of course, Gabriel and Thalia had never made her feel that way, not even for an instant. Charlotte was sure of her brother’s love for her, and she knew her sister-in-law loved her, too.

But that didn’t change the fact that there was no longer a place here for her.

That begged the immediate follow-up question: What would she do?

Well, she could, of course, accept the duke’s proposal. Any sensible woman in her position would, even if the man was little more than a beast.

Why am I hesitating? The man himself matters little. His nephew is sweet, and I would certainly command respect as the Duchess of Arkley.

No, that wasn’t true. She’d told herself that the man—the duke himself—mattered little, but then why did he occupy her thoughts? Why had he occupied her dreams last night?

It would be easier, Charlotte thought glumly, if he were ugly.

Groaning, Charlotte removed the cushion and stared dully up at the ceiling. She had one day to think over his proposal. Well, Gabriel wouldn’t want her to accept, would he? At one time, he might have tried to forbid it altogether.

Thalia has tempered him. She won’t let him forbid my marriage, not if she believes it is what I want.

Is it what I want?

People cringed before the Duke of Arkley, she knew that. Privately, Charlotte was pleased with her own behavior. She hadn’t cringed. In fact, she’d stood her ground.

I suppose I have my brother to thank for that. Having a brother like Gabriel makes it much easier to stand up to overbearing men, I think.

At that precise moment, somebody hammered on her bedroom door.

Charlotte flinched, jerking upright.

“Charlotte!” Gabriel thundered from outside. “ Charlotte !”

Speaking of overbearing men … she thought wryly.

“What is it, Gabriel?” she said aloud. “I’m not dressed. You can’t come in.”

“I am not going to come in. Charlotte, tell me at once what happened at the party last night.”

She paused. “What do you mean?”

“Just come out here. We have to talk.”

Well, that is ominous, Charlotte thought wryly. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she snatched up a robe and slung it around her shoulders. It would have to do for now.

She yanked open the door. Gabriel stood there, lips pressed into a thin, angry line. His arms crossed tightly over his chest. He was half-dressed, in trousers, boots, and a shirt roughly tucked into his waistband. He was, to her amazement, tapping one foot with irritation.

“Is there any particular reason, brother, why you are shouting so early in the morning?” Charlotte asked sweetly.

He scowled. “Don’t play the fool with me, Charlotte.”

“I am not! I don’t understand why you are so angry so early.”

“I am angry because the Duke of bloody Arkley is here, downstairs in the parlour, asking if you have considered his proposal yet!”

Charlotte hitched in a breath.

He said he would expect my answer tomorrow, which is, of course, today, but I never expected he would call so soon.

“You don’t look surprised,” Gabriel breathed. “Charlotte, you must explain at once.”

“He didn’t even send a note before he arrived,” she mumbled.

Gabriel reached out, seizing her shoulders. “Little sister, if you don’t stop talking in riddles and tell me , once and for all, what is going on. What proposal? Surely he cannot mean a proposal of marriage .”

Charlotte jerked her shoulders out of her brother’s grasp. “Well, I believe he does. He … He spoke to me last night about marriage.”

Gabriel’s eyes bulged. Really, it would have been funny if Charlotte weren’t so nervous.

“I’d call it a trick,” he whispered, “but such a trick would make Society turn on him. A man’s reputation can weather a great deal, but not that . Charlotte, I feel as though there is a great deal you aren’t telling me, so tell me now.”

Charlotte breathed in deeply. “Did you say that he was downstairs, in the parlor?”

“What? Yes, he is. Thalia is sitting with him, and I don’t plan to leave my wife with him an instant longer than necessary.”

Charlotte gave a brittle smile. “Then we should not keep either of them waiting. I’ll dress as quickly as I can and come down at once.”

“Wait, no! Don’t you dare close that door on me, Charlotte, I…”

“It’ll take too long to explain,” Charlotte interrupted, and closed the door firmly on her raging brother. He stood there for a moment—she could hear him muttering furiously—then he moved off down the hallway.

Charlotte stayed where she was, breathing in shallowly.

This is it, then. He’s here. If I refuse him, I imagine he’ll move swiftly onto another woman. I can’t be the only person in London who can coax a word or two out of that poor little boy.

She passed a hand over her face and realized that her hands were shaking.

I had better hurry.

In record time, Charlotte found herself washed, dressed, and ready. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, which were directly perpendicular to the parlor door, and listened carefully.

She’d chosen a simple green gown, something that Joan could help her put on in a matter of minutes. Her hair was roughly pinned up on top of her head, and already tendrils were beginning to come free.

Should I have dressed more finely? What if he changes his mind when he sees me?

At once, she felt a rush of anger at this thought. Why should she care if he didn’t like what he saw? He hadn’t spoken of love or romance, or anything beyond what she could do for him and what he could do for her. Convenience. That was all.

Isn’t that better? Getting one’s heart involved makes a tremendous mess of a marriage, I think.

Naturally, there were exceptions to such matters, including Thalia and Gabriel’s relationship, but Charlotte did not believe she’d be as lucky as her brother.

She could not hear any voices drifting out of the parlor.

Perhaps he’s gone.

It was this thought that finally buoyed her across the hallway to see whether the room was empty after all.

It wasn’t.

Thalia sat in her usual seat, and Gabriel stood rigidly behind her, almost comically furious. The sofa opposite was where Thalia would encourage guests to sit, but the sofa was empty.

A tall figure stood by the window, silhouetted in the morning sunshine. Charlotte couldn’t help but feel that she recognized those shoulders.

“Are you sure you won’t take some tea, Your Grace?” Thalia asked, a touch of desperation in her voice. At that moment, she glanced over to the door and saw Charlotte in the doorway. Relief spread over her face.

“Oh, Charlotte, dear, there you are.”

The figure at the window turned.

The duke was wearing black velvet again, highlighted with strips of red silk around the collar and lapels. The side of his face bearing the eyepatch was thrown into shadow.

“Lady Charlotte,” he greeted. “Good morning. I imagined you would be up and about by now.”

“Did you?” she responded, before she could think twice. “I did not return home until three o’clock last night. I believe your party went on until dawn.”

“True,” the man acknowledged. “I think I am used to soldiering hours, and in truth, I have never required much sleep in any case. Never mind—you are here now.”

Charlotte was not sure she liked the condescension in his voice, but decided not to complain.

“Now, perhaps, we might hear an explanation for what is going on,” Gabriel said at last, his voice steely. He’d thrown on a blue and green jacket, Charlotte noticed. Orion colors, contrasting the black-and-red that the Devils often wore. Rather pointed, she thought.

“Explanation? I thought I was clear,” the duke responded coolly, striding away from the window.

He came to stand in the middle of the room, but made no move to sit.

“I made a proposal of marriage to Lady Charlotte last night. She was unsure as to how to answer, and I told her I would expect her answer tomorrow. Today, rather. So, here I am.”

There was a long silence. Everyone was looking at Charlotte. She cleared her throat and met the duke’s eye as evenly as she could.

“I did not think,” she said carefully, “that you meant it.”

His smudgy black eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “Lady Charlotte, let me assure you that I am not in the habit of saying things I do not mean.”

“Yes, well, you must admit that it was all done in a rather unorthodox manner,” Charlotte responded shortly.

She did not particularly want her brother to hear how the duke had dragged her off to a secluded room and then prevented her from leaving.

No harm had been done, of course, but she knew that Gabriel would fly into a rage if he heard.

The duke only smiled, his eyes—well, eye —giving away nothing.

“My apologies,” he said softly. “But I am here now, and ready to receive your answer. Perhaps this might speed up your decision.”