Page 37 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

The theme was Ancient Greece, as these things were genuinely themed as such. The walls were adorned with hundreds of verdant wreaths, entwined with colorful floral bouquets. Giant marble pillars stood tall at the corners and entrances. Statues of various Greek gods and heroes were peppered across the floor, and the footmen were all dressed in togas with golden armbands and wreaths on their heads, carrying trays laden with silver goblets filled with wine.

As for the guests, it was a rainbow of colors. Reds, blues, yellows, greens, oranges, pinks, and purples everywhere she looked. Extravagant frocks and gowns and headdresses, jewelry that sparkled and shone, a sense that each and every person was trying to outdo the others.

Charlotte was dressed in a red gown woven with a pink floral pattern, elegant in the way it flowed from her waist like a red wave crashing about her, scandalous in how low the neckline was and the way it cinched her waist. She might not have been the most audaciously dressed, but even still, she felt the eyes of those she passed follow her from the moment she entered.

Although she supposed that was because of her partner.

“You look happy.” He chuckled when he caught sight of the smile on her lips and the way her eyes shone with wonder.

“I am,” she said rightly, holding his arm tight because she liked the way he felt beside her. “It doesn’t take much to keep me satisfied, you know?”

“Oh, I’m well aware.” He grinned.

They walked across the floor together, arm in arm, making sure to show everyone that they had come together and were thriving just as much. Charlotte had no doubt that her husband’s desire to attend tonight stemmed from his need to show the ton that their wedding was in full flight, and she had every intention of making sure the point was made. Because it was.

Oh sure, they hadn’t so much as kissed since that day in the stables, now over a week ago. But putting that aside, they were getting along better than ever, seemingly enjoying one another’s company in a way that only the happiest of couples did. And while she might have liked him to take her and “teach her another lesson”… that would come. Why, if tonight went as well as she planned and the Duke’s mood was piqued, who was to say that she wouldn’t find herself at his mercy before the night was through?

That, as much as anything, was a reason to behave.

As was often the way of these things, once the arrival was taken care of, Charlotte separated from the Duke, so he could speak with his friends, and she might speak with her own. So, she left him with a kiss on the cheek, a promise to behave, and navigated the crowd on her own.

Sadly, the first person she came across was perhaps the last person she wished to see. Why, when Charlotte saw her coming from across the hall, she very nearly turned around and walked the other way. She didn’t, but only because their eyes met, and she smiled before she could stop herself.

“Well, don’t you look a treat,” Agnes said as she swept into Charlotte. She planted a kiss on her cheek, her tone sarcastic and over the top. “Married life suits you, it seems.”

“It does,” Charlotte said pleasantly, waltzing past Agnes as she made for a footman carrying a tray of wine. “You should really try it sometime.”

She thought that would put a stop to Agnes’s pestering, and that it might even convince Agnes that bothering her tonight wasn’t worth the effort. Surely, the woman had better things to do. Like finding herself a husband, for example.

But no sooner had Charlotte plucked a glass of wine off the tray than Agnes was sidling up to her.

“I heard the most troubling rumor the other day,” Agnes began, as if concerned. “Most worrying.”

“Is that right?” Charlotte said, not looking at the woman but casting her gaze wide over the party. She spotted Henry with some of his contemporaries, all of whom were laughing at something he said. She smirked to herself, wondering if he’d said anything funny or if they were just cozying up to him.

“About your sister,” Agnes said. Charlotte stiffened but forced herself not to show it. “I heard that she fled from home, rather than being forced into a marriage she did not want—one can’t blame her, I suppose, considering His Grace’s reputation.”

“You should know better than to spread false gossip,” Charlotte said pleasantly. “My sister is ill, and that is all. The idea that she might run from home to avoid marriage…” She laughed and waved her off.

“It’s the strangest thing,” Agnes continued, as if she hadn’t heard Charlotte. “For I heard another rumor, one that flies in the face of the first. I don’t remember who told me exactly. You know me, I’m not one for gossip-mongering. But someone was insinuating that she hadn’t run away at all.”

Charlotte couldn’t help but turn and look at her. “Of course, she didn’t. It is as I said, she has simply been taken ill. Otherwise, you would’ve seen her here tonight. She so wanted to come.”

“That’s not what I heard.” Agnes’s smile was triumphant and wholly smug. “They say—and again, this is just rumor—that your father, in fact, shipped her away to the country himself. Hiding her, as it was, because she…” She feigned a grimace. “Because she is with child. A horrible thing to say, I know,” she hurried to add and touched Charlotte’s arm as if to console her. “And I’m sure there is no truth to it. I just thought you should know what the ton is saying. Better to get ahead of these things.”

Charlotte’s blood ran ice cold, and her glare was just as scathing. She knew it showed on her face, and she knew Agnes could see it, but she also didn’t care. The nerve of this woman! No doubt she was the one who started the rumor, and no doubt she was doing a good job of spreading it also. The fact that she had come to Charlotte with it, feigning worry when it caused her so much glee… Charlotte could have slapped her.

“Thank you so much,” Charlotte said through gritted teeth, “for telling me. And if anyone asks, you can tell them there is no truth to it. None.”

“Oh, I know it,” Agnes assured her with delight. “I know how people talk. I just wanted you to know. You and His Grace look sohappytogether, and I’d hate for anything to spoil it.” Her eyes flashed, and she leaned in to give Charlotte a peck on the cheek. “But enjoy your evening, Charlotte. You deserve it.” She tittered to herself and then waltzed right on by.

And Charlotte watched her as she joined a group of friends and began to speak in haste. They all listened, a few gasped, one even glanced toward Charlotte in shock. The rumor, as it was, was spreading.

Rumors were like a forest fire, and Charlotte knew that to feed them was to see them grow and spread. So, determined to not let what Agnes had said bother her, and hoping that such a rumor was too ridiculous to give credence to it, she decided the only reasonable decision she could take was to ignore it and hope that it died of its own accord. Surely, no one would believe such an outrageous lie?

She put on a brave face and continued navigating the crowd. This was her night, after all, her first time out and about with her new husband, her first chance to show the world that their marriage was more than one thrown hastily together for convenience’s sake. If people saw her and Henry together, how happy they were, then why would they believe such a ghastly thing as what Agnes was saying?

Smiling now, forcing it, Charlotte started across the ballroom to where Henry was standing with his friends. She hadn’t danced yet, and a chance to be seen in his arms was enough to make sure that smile remained. However, no sooner was she halfway toward him than she was approached by Lady Knotwood, a friend of her mother’s whom she knew a little but not too much.

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