Page 74 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

“You look wonderful,” Agnes crooned as she reached her. She leaned in and gave Charlotte a peck on each cheek, taking her hands then and standing back to admire her. “Truly, a princess.”

“As do you.”

And Charlotte did look wonderful, too. She was dressed in a green and golden gown, as extravagant as it was expensive to procure. Made mostly from silk and voile, when she had it tailored, she had pictured the look on Henry’s face when he saw her in it for the first time. Tight around the hips and bust, a low neckline that was scandalous compared to most that she saw the other women wearing, and flowing around her legs so that the train carried behind her as she walked, it was a dress of dreams.

Oh, if Henry might have seen her in it. The only fear being that the two wouldn’t have made it out of the castle before he’d tried to tear it off her body. Why, she’d even had a spare dress ready, just in case. Not that she’d needed to worry about such a thing. Not anymore.

“I just spoke with your sister,” Agnes continued, still holding Charlotte by the hands. “She is here, of course. And she looks a treat.”

“I would hope so.”

“To think of the things people had been saying about her.” She then tittered and shook her head. “All nonsense, of course. And Beatrice was sure to make sure I knew it. And I told her if anyone was to ask me tonight about it, I would dissuade them.”

“There should be no need…” Charlotte looked past Agnes, searching desperately for her sister, a chance to excuse herself from this conversation.

“Oh, but you know how people talk.” Agnes slapped playfully at Charlotte’s arm. “The things they said, I half expected her to turn up on the Duke’s arm instead!”

“Yes, well…” Charlotte pursed her lips to keep herself from saying something unbecoming. That was what Agnes wanted, after all. To see her break. “That is ridiculous.”

“I know it, silly.” Another playful slap. “So, speaking of His Grace, where is he?” Agnes looked around them, as if expecting him to appear suddenly. “Surely, he is here?”

Charlotte’s stomach twisted. She had prepared for this moment. All day and the carriage ride over, she had braced herself for the inevitable slew of questions and the response she must give. But that didn’t make it any easier to bear. If anything, it only made it harder.

“I’m afraid he won’t be joining me this evening.”

Agnes’s eyes turned wide as if from shock, but Charlotte could see the delight in them. “He won’t be? Why not?”

“I’m afraid that he’s fallen ill,” Charlotte lied.

“Oh no.”

“Yes,” Charlotte sighed and bowed her head. “Just this morning, he woke up with a terrible sickness. Even now, he’s home in bed, drinking fluids as he tries to find strength.”

“That is awful.”

“Just be glad you don’t have to see it.” She chuckled.

“The luck.” Agnes shook her head. “First your sister falls ill, and then your husband. Why, if I didn’t know any better, I would say there is more to this than a simple illness.” Her eyes flashed. “Have you spoken with your chef?” she then asked. “Perhaps it’s his cooking.”

Charlotte looked at her flatly. “Good thinking. I will be sure to enquire.”

“See that you do.” Agnes took Charlotte’s hands again. “You know how these people are. If they even get a sniff of malfeasance, they will be at it like a pack of rabid wolves. But don’t you worry…” A wink. “If anyone should ask me, I will be sure to let them know. His Grace is sick.”

“Very sick.”

“And I am sure he wanted to come.”

“He was very much looking forward to it.”

“With how happy the two of you surely are, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t be.” Agnes spoke the right words, for that was the point, but the look on her face was as revealing as if she’d thrown her head back and cackled.

There was a good reason that Agnes had made sure to invite Charlotte and Henry tonight. She expected that their marriage wasn’t as strong as Charlotte claimed, and she wanted to prove it to the ton by having them parade about and embarrass themselves, as Charlotte was known to do. But there was no need for such a thing. A plan executed better than even Agnes could have hoped, for it seemed that even she had overestimated the state of Charlotte and Henry’s marriage.

“My sister?” Charlotte started, pulling her hands free. “I should…”

“The Duke isn’t with her.” Agnes giggled. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Charlotte’s expression became flat. “Like I said, he is in bed.”

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