Page 16 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke (Duke Wars #2)

CHAPTER 16

T rue to her word, Thalia woke up early the next morning, ready to partake in whatever antics Charlotte chose to get the pair into. Anything to try and get last night’s encounter out of her mind; the duke had a habit of digging into her thoughts and holding fast.

Even now, the smokey scent of wood wafted about her head, and Thalia found herself unable to be rid of it, even with a few changes of clothing. Of course, a majority of her changing had been due to Charlotte’s choice in activity–horseback riding–as the younger Harding had bought a number of equestrian garbs for her to try on.

“I know you technically told me I could replace your dress, but this directly ties into your promise, so, it still makes us even!” Charlotte had then proudly proceeded to devour the last of her toast and jam before scurrying up to her room, no doubt to dress in her own riding attire. Thalia, meanwhile, managed a light sigh and savored whatever breakfast she could before Charlotte came thundering back downstairs.

It wasn’t as terrible as she was making it out to be, of course. The morning was fairly pleasant, if not a bit chilly, with dew still clinging to the low-cut lawn. Occasionally, Thalia could spot sunlight between the gray sheet of clouds, providing a touch of warmth to the somber atmosphere.

For a moment, she wished Charlotte had chosen painting instead. The scenery was really quite inspiring, stirring her into an artistic mood she hadn’t felt in quite some time. And the duke had to remain back at the estate for work matters, meaning there would have been a greater chance of them crossing paths if she’d remained behind.

Thalia paused, shaking her head furiously. Out with you, already!

“Oh, don’t worry, Thalia!” Charlotte reassured, arms wrapped around the neck of a familiar chestnut stallion. “I’ll be taking Wanderlust for our little jaunt. He gets absolutely green with envy if I ride anyone else.”

Thalia blinked, realizing she’d completely missed what Charlotte had been saying entirely. “Ah. Yes, that… comes as somewhat of a relief. I admit, it’s been some time since I’ve ridden, and… Wanderlust… seems quite the proud creature.”

“Oh, he’s just a big baby,” Charlotte insisted. “But, he would probably be a bit too much for you; he’s a bit too much for Gabriel sometimes, too.”

Thalia chuckled lightly, trying not to imagine such an undignified sight. “I must admit, that’s hard to believe.”

Charlotte simply grinned, glanced around the barn in search of the right steed. Her eyes immediately lit up as she pointed towards the stall across from hers. “Oh! Why don’t you take Forget-Me-Not? She’s a bit older, but has a much better temperament for… beginners, I suppose?”

Thalia laughed, mockingly crossing her arms with a huff. “I said it’s been a moment! I’m not entirely inept, you know.” Still, she crossed to greet the horse in question—a beautiful palomino, clear of any blemishes or markings along her body and face—and gave her a gentle approach with her hand. True to Charlotte’s word, the mare was quick to warm, nuzzling Thalia’s hand with a gentle snort.

“Perfect—she likes you already!” Charlotte beamed, already pulling Wanderlust out of his stall to set his saddle.

Thalia opted to let the stable hands help her, stepping to the side as she observed the fitting. Her conversation with the duke still buzzed around her head, and she couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. He seemed distant one moment, then desperate to close said distance the next. Cold, yet inviting; an absolute enigma of a man.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and wiggle your way out of our agreement?” Charlotte asked.

“Oh—no, nothing of the sort,” Thalia reassured.

“Then what on earth has you sighing in such a matter?” Charlotte tugged against the belt of her saddle, ensuring it sat firmly in place. “Miss Thalia Sutton, it is far too early and nice a morning to make such a forlorn noise.” She paused, moments away from grasping her reins, and turned to face Thalia with a gasp. “Wait—what did my brother do? He’s upset you somehow, hasn’t he?”

Thalia hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her glove as she debated her next question carefully. “He… showed me Pride and Prejudice .”

Charlotte blinked, clearly confused. But after a moment to reflect, the realization dawned across her face. “Oh.”

“Y-yes, I’m afraid so.” Thalia’s brow furrowed, the evening fully arranging itself clearly in her mind. “I don’t mean to pry, of course—your family business is your own—but the way he spoke of it seemed so… so…?”

“Wistful?”

Thalia nodded.

Charlotte slipped the reins over Wanderlust, coaxing him to bite the bit before straightening out the straps. Another beat passed between them, and she let out a heavy sigh of her own. “I don’t remember too much of Mother, honestly. Only what Gabriel says of her.” Her hand stroked the length of her stallion, her shoulders visibly stiffening. “Which doesn't always paint her in the kindest of lights.”

“You don’t have to…”

“It’s not exactly a big secret,” Charlotte insisted. “The whole ordeal, I mean. Lots of people know of it, but no one’s foolish enough to dredge up old gossip while Gabriel’s still alive.” She paused, hastily wiping her face as her back remained to Thalia. “Father went to defend mother’s honor, and he died because of it.”

“You don’t have to speak of it if it’s too much,” Thalia insisted.

Charlotte shook her head, but she remained turned away. “No, it’s just—it seems so stupid, whenever I think of it. I mean, Father said he’d do anything for Mother, but to throw your life away in some ridiculous show of masculinity—she didn’t even wait for his body to be cold in the ground, Thalia!

“Her ‘honor’ means far less than my Father’s life, and he so stupidly—if my future husband ever told me he were getting involved in a duel for my honor, I would think him to be the selfish one, protecting his own, fragile, misshapen–!”

Thalia quickly moved to Charlotte, her arms grasping around her in a tight hug. She heard a slight gasp of surprise, her body trembling horribly as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. That must have been a terrible thing to carry around.”

Charlotte suddenly turned, burying her head into Thalia’s chest. Her arms wrapped fiercely around Thalia’s waist, and though she continued shaking, Charlotte fought valiantly for a breath to speak with. “I d-don’t even really remember them all that much. But—but I could have, if F-Father hadn’t… if Mother wasn’t so…”

She paused, a fresh wave of tears slipping down her face. “Gabriel becomes terribly c-cross—well, crosser than usual—I think… this is the first time I have really… talked about it, though.”

It pained Thalia to see the poor girl in such distress. She embraced her tightly, slowly undoing Charlotte’s updo in order to gently stroke her head.

“Thalia?” Charlotte’s eyes were rimmed red, hazel hues flooded with tears. “Am I a terrible daughter? For saying those things about Father—I miss him, I really do, I just wish he hadn’t wasted his life—I wish he hadn’t—I wish–!”

Thalia slowly eased Charlotte to sit with her, waving the stable hands to tend to the horses. They worked with quiet efficiency, taking off Wanderlust’s saddle and reins before ushering him back into his stall. Then, just as quickly, they filed out of the barn, leaving only the sounds of Charlotte’s crying and Thalia’s soothing tone. A great deal of time passed before her tears turned to light sobs. And soon, she managed to pull herself somewhat together, hastily wiping her splotchy face.

“How are you feeling?” Thalia asked.

Weak laughter escaped Charlotte, briefly turning to a fit of hiccups. “Awful. I didn’t want to spend the morning with you like this.”

Thalia smiled, warmly bringing Charlotte in for another embrace. “Don’t have another thought about it. I enjoy our time together, Charlotte, no matter what we do.” They pulled away once more, her expression becoming more concerned. “Does your brother know about all of this? How you truly feel about your parents?”

Charlotte quickly shook her head. “I meant it when I said no one brings it up. Gabriel becomes so enraged, and—and then so distant.” Again, she shook her head, pulling her legs up against her chest. “He’s all I have left for family, Thalia. If I upset him… if he abandons me…”

“He would do no such thing.”

Charlotte blinked a few tears free, staring up at Thalia in surprise. In truth, Thalia herself was taken aback at the curtness of her tone, but the sentiment rang true in her chest.

“I haven’t been among your family long, Charlotte, but it’s plain as day that your brother adores you. And if he knew you were carrying this sadness around…” she paused, her hand clenching against her chest. “Charlotte, it would break his heart.”

“Or he’ll never talk to me again,” Charlotte insisted. “He loved Father—practically worshipped him! If he knew what I thought —and I don’t even know if these feelings are real.”

“Charlotte.”

“No, Thalia.” Charlotte suddenly stood, brushing her pants before heading for the barn’s entrance. “Come on; I’ve got something else we can do together.”

* * *

It was difficult to focus on his work when Gabriel’s mind was occupied elsewhere. Last night had begun so… well. Fully in his favor. If he had played it right, he might’ve managed to steal a kiss from Thalia that time around. But therein laid his ultimate problem; what to do about Thalia Sutton.

He rolled his quill between his fingers, his gaze drifting from the stacks of paperwork on his desk towards his personal collection of books. A large gap stood towards the center of the shelf, and he imagined, briefly, Thalia comfortable in her room, curled up on a chair and reading John Donne’s greater works. With nothing but a sheer nightgown, clinging to her curves and hugging her bosom like… like…

Well. Like one more facet of his ultimate problem.

Gabriel sighed, abandoning his desk for a glance out the window. What was he to do with his little rabbit? The chase was fun, yes, but he never considered what happened after the fact.

Other women would’ve left by then, leaving him to prowl the night alone in pursuit of different prey. But Thalia was not something he could simply “leave”; it had been by his own hand that she remained so closely at his side.

And it wasn’t even just her that he’d entangled himself with. Robin, too, had become quite integral to the operation, a key component in making that little marquess pay dearly for his transgressions.

A slight not even against his own family, Gabriel realized with a dark chuckle. From the start, he’d done everything for the benefit of the Sutton family, and as for himself…

What are your intentions with my sister?

Before he could continue his mulling, Gabriel’s attention was grabbed by a knock on his door. He straightened, expecting it to be the young Sutton awakened at last and ready to report his findings on Oslay Hall. He’d barely gotten the invitation out of his mouth to enter when his study’s door flew open and Charlotte came charging in, a few maids hot on her tail.

“Where did we put my painting materials?” Charlotte demanded.

Gabriel blinked, his mind still catching up to the present situation. He tilted his head around his sister’s imposing form, catching Thalia standing just beyond the door’s frame with a nervous knit to her brow.

“Sorry,” Thalia managed to mouth as the maids came into the room next.

“My lord, we’re so terribly sorry,” the first began.

“She barged right past us,” the second stammered.

Gabriel raised his hand gently, quieting the maids as his attention fixated on his sister. “Charlotte, what is the meaning of this?”

“I want my painting supplies.”

Once more, he leaned across his desk, catching Thalia nervously slipping into the office as well. She opened her mouth to try and explain, though nothing came out of her lips. Instead, Thalia stood awkwardly off to the side, uncertain where she fit in during this family… squabble.

“Charlotte, you have two maids here more than willing to help you,” Gabriel began.

Charlotte waved the thought away, hands now smacking against Gabriel’s desk in an absolute fit. “Painting supplies. Please.”

Now it was Gabriel’s turn for a furrowed brow. This was not the first time he found his sweet sister in such a sour mood; it had been through the act of painting that she beat back whatever darkness filled her previously. And now, she held her gaze with such intent, that he was surprised at how much of a predator she’d become herself. It was the first time Gabriel had really looked and saw her for the young woman she was.

“We are terribly sorry, my lord,” one of the maids began. “We can go and find them–”

“No, it’s all right.” With a gentle sigh, Gabriel stood from his desk and rounded it, offering his hand outward. “I’m sure it’s stored somewhere in your old art room. We’ll go look together.”

Pleased with her victory, Charlotte slid her arm through Gabriel’s grasping his hand in a tight squeeze. “See, Thalia? I told you he would help.”

Thalia could only nod awkwardly by the door, smile clearly strained.

“Will you be joining my sister, then, Miss Sutton?” Gabriel asked. “I recall you had a few paintings of your own in need of finishing.”

She looked ready to argue, but seemingly reconsidered at the last moment. With a gracious nod, Thalia trailed behind the Harding siblings, looking as if she were being led deeper into the lion’s den. As far as Gabriel was concerned, she wasn’t wrong.