Page 61 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

Charlotte watched Lord Talbot as he disappeared among the guests. She probably should have followed suit, joining the party and mingling with the others. That was why she was here, after all, to socialize and remind the ton that she wasn’t trapped in a loveless marriage but perfectly happy and in love. At the very least, now that her sister had returned, it would quell the rumors and perhaps put a stop to them. Wasn’t that the point?!

And yet… her eyes drifted back across the garden, just in time to see her husband laughing at something her sister had said.

Why had she never made Henry laugh like that? Why had she never made him so darn happy as Beatrice seemed to be right now? She had no doubt that Henry was more than enjoying being married to her, but could it be more? And were they doing themselves a disservice by not exploring other means of happiness?

Charlotte hadn’t thought of it until now, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that their marriage was in a rut. So enraptured were the two by their sexual dalliances, that fire which brewed between them whenever they fought, that they never gave themselves a chance to explore what it might be like if they were kind to one another. If they dared to try and get along for even one conversation without succumbing to an argument. It was like a drug, inescapable, all-consuming, pulling at them whenever they spoke because they both knew where it would lead.

Charlotte loved the way Henry treated her when they were alone. She yearned for his touch as much today as she had the first time she had felt it. But why did it always have to be at the expense of pleasantries? There was no reason that she could think that it had to be one or the other.

“What are you doing over here?” Her mother appeared suddenly beside her.

“Thinking,” Charlotte said.

“I’ll remind you that you’re the one who wished to come today. I might have preferred to stay home.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Why do you think? Your father has been nothing if not persistent, and quite honestly, I needed the break.”

“Has there been any word on what he plans to do with Beatrice?”

“Oh, he will give in,” her mother said rightly. “Be sure of that. But he needs to huff and puff beforehand. His ego demands it.”

Charlotte’s parents had always had an interesting relationship. Yes, they fought often, but there was undoubtedly love there. Companionship. When they weren’t fighting, they were laughing and loving and completely besotted with one another. Sure, this last week might have seen them take their fights to a new level, but that wasn’t the norm. Nor should it have been.

“Mother…” Charlotte forced herself to focus on her mother. “Are you planning on moving back in with Father?”

“Why? Did His Grace say something? He’s not upset with us staying with him, is he? I’ve tried my best to go as unnoticed as?—”

“No, no, not that,” Charlotte assured her. “It’s just… the two of you have always seemed so happy. Even when you fight and argue, it’s never malicious or purposefully hurtful.”

Her mother frowned. “Of course, it’s not, dear. Why on earth would it be?”

“Is that how it always was?” Charlotte pressed. “When the two of you first got married, did you… did you get along right away, or did it take time?”

“Oh…” Her mother tittered. “It took time, of course. Your father…” She sighed and shook her head, but a loving smile worked up the side of her face. “He has a temper, I am sure you know. And a more stubborn man, I have not met.”

“But you never hated him? Or he hated you?”

“Of course not, dear. Yes, we fight. Once, we used to fight a lot. But we love one another, too. At the end of the day, that’s what counts. A relationship can’t sustain itself otherwise, especially if there is no love there.”

“Love?” Charlotte said the word as if she’d never heard it before.

“Yes, dear.” Her mother eyed her curiously. “Love. As much as I hate your father…” Her smile returned, reaching her eyes. “I also love him. Even if I hate the fact that I do.” She tittered.

Love… that was what this marriage was missing. An obvious notion, sure, but not one that Charlotte had stopped to think about. Yes, she loved the way Henry dominated her completely. Yes, she loved the things he did to her when he lost his temper. But did she love him?

This marriage was only ever meant to be one of convenience, and she had deigned to treat it as such. But if Charlotte wanted more out of this marriage, she was going to have to divorce the notion that every time they spoke, they had to fight because that would lead to them having sex. As much as she desired it… she knew now that she needed more.

Another glance across the garden, another glimpse of the smile on her husband’s face as he chatted with her sister, and she felt a pang in her chest because now she knew that above all else, that was what she desired most. She had her husband’s libido, and now, she wanted his heart.

ChapterTwenty

“Your Grace? Are you listening, Your Grace?”

He wasn’t. He should have been. This meeting was extraordinarily important and not one to be taken lightly. Times were that Henry’s full attention would have been in the room because it needed to be, because his entire future, his entire fortune just about, depended on it. But as things currently stood, his mind was out of the room, back at his home, on his wife, as it had been all day…

“He’s not.” Oliver sighed. “You can tell. See that look in his eyes?”

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