Page 21 of The Virgin Duchess (Unwanted Brides #2)

Chapter Eighteen

“ C harlotte,” Rose approached the Duchess cautiously, an unmistakable look of importance on her face, “may I speak with you.”

Charlotte’s chest pinched at the words. She’d been steadfastly ignoring the entirety of the house for the whole morning. By the time she settled down at the table for a late breakfast, she’d hoped that she had missed both Frederick and his sister. Clearly, she had not.

Heat gathered beneath her skin, though. The expression on Rose’s face was too much. Charlotte couldn’t deny her when the woman implored her so intensely with just the look in her eyes.

“Of course, Rose. How may I help you?”

“On the contrary, Charlotte,” Rose shook her head, “I believe I can help you.”

Faltering, with her heart in her throat, Charlotte sat on the edge of her seat, awaiting her sister-in-law’s words. It took a moment, Rose’s eyes falling to the table, before the woman had the strength to look at the Duchess again, and then she sighed.

“I have heard a bit of your conversation with my brother. And I feel that it is time you know the truth. It is me he is trying to protect.”

Charlotte’s jaw dropped, and she blinked several times. “What?”

Rose took turns looking at the collection of food laid out on the table and then up at Charlotte. The moment stretched on, and with a heavy exhale that forced Rose’s shoulders to droop, she again glanced up at the Duchess and nodded.

“I understand your surprise. Frederick had wanted to keep this thoroughly buried. He has been working to protect me at every turn, and I am incredibly grateful for his help. Still, I won’t allow him to strain every relationship he forms because he is holding onto this secret.”

It was so strange to hear Rose speak like this. Charlotte had assumed for so long that the two of them didn’t get along. Even when it was clear that they cared about each other, Frederick remained so stoic about his intense feelings regarding the situation. He was a better actor than Charlotte believed, apparently, doing an expert job at hiding his concern behind a false smile.

What else has he allowed me, allowed others, to believe?

“Rose,” Charlotte started, taking her hand and offering a gentle smile, “I appreciate your concern for your brother. Still, I do not wish for you to injure yourself with the words you speak. I understand the need for discretion, even with me.”

The young woman smiled, squeezing Charlotte’s hand. “I know you do, and I will forever be grateful for the kindness you have shown me. But it is time.”

Charlotte allowed Rose all the time and space she required to formulate her words, to gather her wits enough to reveal something that the entire family had been so set on keeping secret.

“The Baron of Halfacre, or Thomas as he insisted I call him, lied to me. It was not very long ago when he first came to me…seeking my hand in marriage.”

Understanding grew in Charlotte’s mind. The clarity of the situation came into slow focus as essential pieces of the puzzle were laid in place. Rose was the target of the Baron’s affections, it seemed, but Charlotte knew that could not be the end of it. And worse, she sensed where the story was going.

“He wished to marry but it was quick, and there was an intense need from him to move through the engagement at a rapid pace. Everything with him was a whirlwind of emotions and rushing forward. It was wonderful at first, feeling so desired that a man was willing to forgo the requirements of the banns and such. But I had been na?ve.”

“Your brother would not support the arrangement?” Charlotte cocked her head as she studied Rose’s expression. “Was he not supportive of your choice to marry well?”

Rose shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Frederick had been incredibly gracious and supportive of the marriage. He had volunteered his staff and services to ensure the wedding was a success, drafting up a message for the banns himself. Perhaps that is why he feels so awful to this day about how it played out.”

Charlotte was a bit shocked at that. She’d assumed that Frederick must not have liked the Baron right away. But it appeared that her husband had fallen prey to Thomas’s schemes just as Rose had.

“Suddenly, Thomas insisted that we could not wait. It came out of nowhere, but he was so adamant, so charming…” Rose’s stare drifted off to the side as she remembered the past events. “…He’d swept me away, convinced me to put on my best gown, and he would deliver us to Scotland where we could wed with haste. I was in the carriage when my brother appeared.”

Desperate for more answers, Charlotte leaned forward in her seat, gripping both of Rose’s hands tighter. So much was beginning to make sense, but what had the Baron lied about? How had Frederick gotten himself into that alley with him?

“Rose, please, what did Frederick learn? I need to understand why he is so furious with Halfacre.”

Her eyes glassed over with unshed tears, and Rose shook her head with a sniffle, trying to keep them at bay.

“When Frederick arrived at the carriage, he was furious. He said that he knew the truth about Thomas. He was not some well-to-do gentleman as he’d claimed but a financially and emotionally bankrupt rogue who’d been scheming women out of their dowries for some time. He was going to wed me, take the money he received, and immediately annul the marriage to return to his gambling hell.”

Rose’s tears won out then, and she forced herself to take strangled gulps of air so that she could continue her story.

“When…when he was revealed, Thomas…the Baron became violent. He screamed and fought against Frederick to get out of the carriage. The constables were on their way, and he would not be caught. He…he shoved me through the door, stepping on my leg as he ran off.”

Rose took her hands, leaning down to pull up the bottom of her house dress and reveal her ankle behind the fabric of her stocking. Angry scarring and damage covered her flesh, and Charlotte gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

“It was a severe injury, part of the reason I have been cooped up in my room so often. I…I will admit that I was not ready to face the world after everything happened, either. I know that Frederick chased after the Baron, but because I was injured, he was delayed. Worse, the constables could confirm his guilt, so they refused to get involved.”

Charlotte’s chest pinched, an aching weight forced down onto her shoulders and chest. She’d said and assumed such terrible things about Frederick when he had simply been protecting his sister from a scoundrel this entire time. She could hardly breathe around the lump in her throat, guilt and regret swirling to make her sick to her stomach.

“I…I am so terribly sorry, Rose. I have not been nearly as kind to you and your brother as I should have. I have made a terrible mistake.”

Rose smiled sorrowfully, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “You did not know. I don’t blame you for your apprehension, especially with the rumors that Frederick has allowed to persist all these years.”

Thinking back to all the things she’d heard about Frederick being a rake, Charlotte’s heart was panged all the further. She’d believed them outright, even as she knew that the ton had a way of fabricating or exaggerating the truth.

“He’s done nothing to refute the claims of his rakish nature?” Charlotte shook her head. “Why?”

“That I do not know. You will have to ask my brother for clarification. But please, Charlotte, with everything you do know now, I ask that you give him grace. Frederick is a good man, a fantastic, fiercely devoted brother. I owe him everything.”

Charlotte’s heart beat hard against her ribs, and she nodded. Being confronted with an inconvenient truth was a test for anyone, and she felt especially tested. Charlotte knew that she’d fallen into the trap of believing everything she heard about Frederick without allowing him much space to correct any misinformation. She was still irritated that he’d chosen to remain so distant from her, at least verbally.

If they were going to make their relationship work—whatever it might be—they needed to communicate with each other.

“Thank you, Rose. I will speak to him.” Charlotte nodded in small waves, her stare tracking down to the floor. “I…I will hold this knowledge in my mind during our conversation. I assure you. There is…strain there, but perhaps this will give your brother and me a bridge to travel over the muck holding us down.”

Rose smiled, gently and even a bit exhausted. It made sense. Revealing truths and being the receptacle for intense emotions was a particularly tiring experience.

“Thank you, Charlotte.”

Standing from the table, the Duchess pulled Rose up along with her and took her in a soft embrace.

“Thank you , Rose. As much as your brother might not appreciate your honesty right away, this was the right thing to do. It will allow us to at least discuss events moving forward.”

The two of them enjoyed a moment of silence before Charlotte dismissed herself to look for Frederick. She was finished waiting for the right time to speak with him, and with her new knowledge in hand, Charlotte hurried up the stairs toward his room.

“Who is it?” Frederick called out from within his room.

Charlotte sighed. She had a feeling he knew quite well who was outside his door. He was only taking a few moments to stall her. Clearing her throat, the Duchess licked her lips before responding, being careful to choose her words correctly.

“It is your wife. I have spoken with Rose, and I believe that it is time I now speak with you.”

The sounds of hurried steps grew louder from behind the door, and then Frederick flung it open, his expression one of shock and concern.

“You…You spoke with Rose? Am I to assume that?—”

“She had told me everything of her involved with the Baron of Halfacre. Rose had heard some of our conversation yesterday, and she believed it was time to be honest with me.” Charlotte gestured with her head inside the room. “May I come in?”

Eyes wide, Frederick nodded, stumbling a bit as he stepped backward and held the door open for her. Charlotte slipped past, taking up a spot inside his room near the wash basin set against the wall.

The state of Frederick’s personal space was a bit of a surprise. It was clear that he had not allowed the maids into the room yet, and there were pieces of clothing flung about on the floor. He’d yet to get appropriately dressed as well. The trousers on his legs looked to be those from the previous evening, and he was not wearing a shirt.

It wasn’t the first time that Charlotte had seen him as such, and still, it made her pulse flutter in her neck, nearly robbing Charlotte of her focus on speaking with the man.

“Charlotte, I do not know what my sister has told you, but it does not change what I believe must be done about Halfacre.”

Her husband’s brow was furrowed so low over his eyes that it looked like Frederick was about to close them. She could see the rigid tension coiled in his muscles, a not altogether unpleasant sight, but it was the cause behind it that made her chest pinch with a flicker of remorse.

I have thought so poorly of him.

“I understand. Truly.” She nodded. “Rose detailed how the Baron sought to take her to Scotland for a clandestine marriage. I understand that you had to put a stop to it only after you were made aware of his true motives. I also know that he injured your sister in his attempt to flee.”

If it was possible for Frederick’s stare to widen even more than it did. He was indeed shocked at what Rose had given up about the entanglement with Halfacre, and it was plainly written all over his face.

“I…It was not for me to discuss, you understand? This was a private matter of Rose’s, and I…I feared that if it were revealed about her, the ton, in all their plentiful wisdom, would still find a way to blame her for what happened.”

Charlotte could understand that implicitly. With a nod, she took a step forward. Holding her hands together at her waist, she fiddled with her fingers, trying in vain to disperse some of the nervous energy. Frederick raised his brows at her, meeting her gaze with a deep well of unknown emotion, making the dark depths shine.

“I can see why you would be concerned. Indeed, the ton has had a way of interfering with its members’ lives in all manner of situations. You are aware of what occurred between Richard and Amelia, and that was between a married couple.”

Frederick remained silent, his eyes scanning up and down Charlotte’s face and form as she moved closer to him.

“I…I am not upset with you for wanting to ensure your sister’s safety or for seeking revenge against someone who has wronged her so. I know that you are likely upset with Rose that she revealed the truth, so I will ask of you what she asked of me. Give her grace. She is a loving sister who only wished to alleviate some of the burdens you have been carrying.”

The countenance Frederick wore softened, his stare shifting to the side as he considered his sister and her motives. Charlotte could see the affection he had for her there, the closeness they indeed shared. It was a bit like looking at Magnus in the beginning, before their relationship was strained by the situation with Cordelia and Kitty.

“I shall take it under strong advisement,” Frederick teased. “In truth, I am a bit glad that Rose approached you. I am not sure if I would have had the strength to do the same.”

Charlotte smirked, chuckling lightly. “I might agree with you. And…I have a question. I have learned quite a bit today and I do not wish to overwhelm you with more inquiries and revelations you are not ready to make. Still…”

Silence hung as Charlotte gathered the courage to ask the burning question that had been plaguing her for some time, for as long as she knew him, in fact. As she looked to the floor and then around the room in every direction where Frederick wasn’t, Charlotte’s heart pattered against her ribs, each pulse getting quicker and quicker.

“Why…why have you embraced the depiction of yourself as a rake? It hardly seems like something that you’d wish to be associated with, and Rose has already confessed that there is not much truth to it.”

Frederick eked out a rough laugh, clearing his throat as he shook his head. It was as if she’d wounded him physically, and it took him several moments before he returned her gaze once more.

“My, you do cut to the heart of the matter, don’t you?”

Charlotte grinned. “I should see no value in mincing words, Frederick. There has been too much of it between us already.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Frederick bobbed his head and rolled his lips between his teeth. He turned toward the fireplace then, walking over to the low burning hearth and leaning against the mantle with one hand. He peered into the flames as Charlotte watched him, the light flicking against his shirtless torso.

“It was easier.”

As far as responses went, that was not what Charlotte had been expecting. “Easier? What do you mean?”

When Frederick turned to her, Charlotte was greeted with such a strange concoction of expressions on his face. He looked amused, perhaps even glad, but there was so much raw vulnerability there as well. He looked so thoroughly… done with it all.

“I was not one for marriage, Charlotte. I never had been. It didn’t appeal to me, and being a man, I thought that it would be easy to remain a bachelor. My father had other expectations of me.”

Sighing, Frederick faced away from the fireplace and folded his arms over his chest. The light behind him glowed, creating a dark silhouette of his form.

“I’d been a bit…wild during my time in university, yes. So, when the opportunity presented itself to use that preconceived notion of my rakishness to my advantage, I didn’t hesitate. It served me to just let the city believe what it wished. I had thought that it would last me the remainder of my days, keeping me from ever being lured into a marriage I didn’t want.”

Charlotte swallowed hard, the rhythm of her heartbeat erratic and intense against her ribs. “ Had thought?”

Frederick nodded slowly, looking up at her with a crooked smile, lifting a single side of his mouth.

“Yes. I had thought that. But during the previous months, something had begun to change my mind about marriage.”

She shook her head, choked by anticipation. “What?”

Charlotte could hardly hear around her pulse in her ears, thrumming against her eardrums like repeated blasts of a pistol. Time stretched thin as Frederick stepped closer to her, his arms falling to his side as he reached her. They stood just a few inches from each other, and then her husband lifted a hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. He smiled, soft and so breathtakingly real.

“You.”