Page 55 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

“You’re joking?”

“I wish I was.”

“But he’s as old as Father!”

“And twice as ugly.”

“Beatrice!” her mother snapped.

“What?” Beatrice shrugged. “He is. Recently widowed, however, which was why Father wanted the match. They’re drinking buddies, you remember, so I suspect Lord Malbourne brought it up a while ago. Honestly, now that I think about it, it might be lucky for you that I ran away. Otherwise, it would have likely been you who had to marry him.”

“Which I would never allow!” Her mother shot a finger in the air. “And I told your father as much. I told him if he tries to go through with this, I will leave him. To marry you off to a duke is one thing. One with a reputation like…” She caught her tongue, realizing who she was speaking of. “But to marry off one of my daughters to a man who could be their father. A drunken buffoon! I will not have it. So, I told him no, and do you know what he said?”

Charlotte could take a guess. “What?”

“He laughed at me! He told me it wasn’t my choice to make.” Her mother was shaking now. Pure venom seeping from her pores. “I’ve had enough, Charlotte. He thinks he can treat me like that? We shall see!” Shockingly, a fragment of a smile crossed her lips, almost as if she was proud of herself.

“All right…” Charlotte said slowly, her mind whirring because this was all too much to comprehend.

Her parents had always had a slightly antagonistic relationship, but she had assumed it was born from love. They seemed to work together that way, her father making his demands and her mother pulling his more outrageous demands back into line. But for her to leave him like this…. it was too much to process right now. Besides, it raised another very important question.

“And what are you… what are you going to do?” Charlotte swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Where are you going to stay?”

Her mother beamed. “Here, of course!” To her right, Beatrice grimaced apologetically. “There’s more than enough room in this castle for us, surely. And I can’t imagine His Grace minding. Would he?”

It was a good question. Never mind how Charlotte felt about this. It was her husband who would need convincing. And while she sensed that he was likely going to say yes, simply to avoid having to throw her mother out on the street, she couldn’t help but remember their dinner from a few weeks ago, how uncomfortable Henry had been among the chaos of her family.

Inside, suddenly, she heard something crash, followed by her sister crying out, “Nathanial!”

Yes, chaos sounded like the right word to use. Until now, everything had been going rather well for Charlotte and Henry’s marriage. A few small kinks that still needed to be worked out, but all and all, smooth sailing. Somehow, she sensed that this new development had the potential to make or break them. And as another crash sounded from inside, Charlotte would be remiss if the wordbreakdidn’t feel more likely.

Earlier, she had hoped that Henry would only be gone for the day and return by sundown, as he had promised. But now, she found herself hoping that it might be two days because when he returned, everything was going to change.

ChapterEighteen

Henry returned home to chaos. A home in disarray. His castle reduced to what felt like a nursery. He’d spent the day dealing with his tenants, assuring them that the rumors they heard were unfounded, and his life, as well as his home, were in perfect working order. At the time, he’d assumed he was telling them the truth. Little did he realize what it was he’d be coming home to.

“Nathanial! Come back here!”

He saw Hannah chasing Nathanial across the front of the estate. Having been riding his horse at pace for the past three hours, his legs ached, his back was sore, and all he wanted was to sink into a warm bath before adjourning to his room with Charlotte. But at the sight of his extended family sprinting across the front lawn—both twin boys, he could see, being chased by Hannah—his stomach sank as he began to imagine the worst.

Thankfully, no sooner did he reach the front of his home than Charlotte was hurrying outside. She must have seen him coming from down the drive, but the look on her face confirmed the worst.

“Before you say anything…” She went to him as he climbed down from the horse. “It is only for a short while.”

“What is going on? Why are your sister and your brothers here?”

“It’s my father,” she explained. “And my mother. And Beatrice, I suppose.”

“Charlotte…” Henry massaged his temples as he tried to ignore Nathanial and Stephen’s high-pitched screams as their sister chased them. “Please explain. And clearly. And quickly.”

She did just that, from start to finish she told him of her mother’s sudden arrival, the reason for it, and what her mother expected for them to do—that being letting her stay here for the time being. And as she explained, she held Henry’s hand and tried to meet his eyes, a sense of guilt obvious in her stare. Guilt and pleading forgiveness.

“And you agreed to this?” he asked stiffly, pulling his hand free and fixing her with a glare to which there could be no misinterpretation.

She winced. “I had no choice.”

“Of course, you did, Charlotte. And to agree without even consulting?—”

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