Page 34 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

Charlotte groaned and buried her head in her hands.

In hindsight, maybe inviting her family to dinner wasn’t such a good idea, after all? In fact, a large part of her had suspected it might devolve into a state of chaos, as it often had when she had lived at her parents’. But she had assumed that in the presence of the Duke, they might behave. Now, she knew better.

A shame, too, as she and the Duke had been getting along so well these last two days. Ever since that afternoon in the stables, she’d sensed a shift in the way they behaved around one another, a state of being that was as pleasant as it was unexpected as it was appreciated.

They hadn’t fought once since then. They hadn’t argued. There had been no bickering of any sort. And while she might have liked a little of that, forobviousreasons, for now, she was happy to build a relationship that just last week felt impossible.

Her family, however, was making that extremely difficult.

She dared a glance at her husband, who was sitting quietly and contemplatively as he eyed her parents. This dinner was an attempt to show her parents just how far she and the Duke had come, but if it devolved into chastisement—her husband losing his temper—she knew her mother well enough to know that before long, half the ton would hear about how turbulent the Duke’s household was, and thus his marriage.

“You might be interested to know that I’ve been charged with bringing the estate up to standard,” Charlotte told her father. “The Duke has given me free rein to improve it however I see fit.”

“Is that right?” Her father frowned. “That’s a big ask, Your Grace. Give a woman power of the purse like that, and you’ll go broke!”

“Phineas…” her mother moaned.

“I trust your daughter implicitly,” Henry said with a soft chuckle. And then a smile which he directed at Charlotte. “It’s still early days, but she is doing a fine job.”

“Got to keep her busy somehow, I suppose.”

“Oh, we have ways of keeping ourselves entertained.” The Duke smirked. His eyes flicked to Charlotte, and she found herself blushing. “Which reminds me, she told me about your eldest daughter. The letter you sent a few days ago.”

“Is that right?” Her father frowned.

“I’m sorry to hear that you still haven’t located her.”

Her father sighed. “That one…” He gave his head a shake. “We are looking into it. I have men searching for her. I’ve reached out to just about everyone I know—quietly, of course. The spot my daughter has put us in. How can we search for her without alerting half the ton that she ran away?” he scoffed. “A part of me suspects that Beatrice didn’t flee on a whim but knew what she was doing.”

“I am sure you will find her soon,” Henry said.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing, what happened. You think this one is hard to control—” Lord Ramsbury flicked his wrist in the direction of Charlotte. “Beatrice is another species entirely.”

“Phineas, that is enough,” her mother hissed.

“What?!”

“You should know,” Henry continued pleasantly, “I’ve enlisted a friend of mine to help find her.”

“You have?” her father blustered. “I hope he knows how to do so discreetly.” It was spoken almost as a warning. A challenge was how Charlotte read it.

“Of course,” Henry said coolly.

“That’s very kind of you, Your Grace,” her mother hurried to add, and then widened her eyes at her husband.

“Yes, yes, very kind,” Charlotte’s father agreed, albeit with some sense of reluctance. “Although, I don’t see the good it will do. If Beatrice wants to remain hidden, she will remain hidden.” A shake of the head. “In hindsight, perhaps we should have chained her to her room once the wedding was announced.”

“Who is this friend of yours?” her mother asked quickly, trying to change the topic.

“Another wedding?!” Nathanial squealed.

“A friend from my youth,” Henry said. “If she’s in London, he will find her.”

“From your youth?” Her father chuckled. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I’m surprised you still spend time with that sort of riff-raff. I had heard that you do, but I assumed it was just a rumor.”

“Just a few of them,” Henry said with a smile that held some tension behind it.

“I suppose all rumors aren’t just that, then.” Charlotte’s father chuckled. “We better keep an eye on you, Your Grace. For our daughter’s sake.” His chuckle deepened, and he looked suggestively at the Duke, his meaning clear.

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