Page 46 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

Oliver grinned. “I considered it, but I am such a good friend that I didn’t want to leave you without a drink. Please—” He indicated the liquor cabinet. “Pour yourself one. On me.”

“It’s not yet ten in the morning.”

“Ah, but you haven’t had a drink all week. So, you’re well overdue. Which, to be perfectly honest with you, is a crime in itself. Where have you been, Henry? If I didn’t despise you the way I did, I might even go so far as to say I missed you.”

“I’ve been busy…” Henry felt his cheeks flush a little as images of his past week, the reason he hadn’t seen Oliver in so long, flashed in his mind. Most of these had Charlotte inverycompromising positions, ones that he had no desire to share with his friend.

“Too busy to meet your best friend for a drink…” Oliver raised an eyebrow at him, the grin on his face suggesting he could read Henry’s mind. “Must have been important.”

“I am a duke.”

“Amarriedduke,” Oliver corrected. “I wonder to which duty you have been more attentive this week.”

Henry’s cheeks flushed further red. “That’s none of your?—”

“My business, I know.” Oliver kicked his legs off the armrest and sat up. “And while I would love nothing more than to delve deeper into that—believe me, I would—I’m afraid that the state of your marriage is low on my list of concerns right now.”

Henry sighed. “My estates. Maybe I should have that drink.”

“Your estates?” Oliver frowned. “Lord, no. That’s that pompous pig Lord Talbot’s wheelhouse, you know that. I’m referring to the case of the missing sister, Henry. One Lady Beatrice Bolton.”

Henry had just about forgotten! With everything that had happened this past week, and how busy he had been, it had completely slipped his mind that he’d asked Oliver to do some digging for him. He felt the relief wash over him, partly because this wasn’t to do with his estates and partly because he knew how happy it would make Charlotte. As much as he enjoyed her when she was being cantankerous with him, he liked just as much to see her smile.

“You found her?” Henry exclaimed. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Oliver said. “You think I came all this way to lie about it?”

“Where is she?”

Oliver looked past Henry. “Shouldn’t your lady wife be here for this? I’m sure she’s just as eager for the news.”

Henry almost agreed… only to picture where Charlotte was right now. In his room. On her back. Very likely… indisposed. Further to that point, he didn’t want to risk being in the same room as her after what had just happened, wondering to himself if Oliver would be fine with sitting down here for another fifteen minutes while the two finished what they had started.

“She’s busy,” he said simply. “But tell me, and I’ll pass on the news, obviously.”

“Well, she’s fine, first of all,” Oliver said. “Lady Beatrice, I mean. Fine, and doing an awfully good job of hiding herself. You wonder why I’m drinking the way I am…” A shake of the head. “I get the distinct impression she didn’t want to be found.”

“You don’t say,” Henry responded dryly. “Now, where is she?”

It was five minutes later when Henry returned to his bedroom, a smile on his lips at the good news that Oliver had just given him. As expected, Charlotte was still there, sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, glare fixed and ready.

The moment the door opened, she leaped to her feet, mouth opened and ready to spew fire. “Look who has?—”

“We found her,” Henry cut his wife off. “We found Beatrice.”

Charlotte gaped at him. “W-what?”

“We found Beatrice,” Oliver repeated, smile growing—partly at the good news, partly at the shock evident on his wife’s face as she struggled to put away her anger and fully absorb the news. “Well, Oliver found her. But the point is still the same.”

“You did?” she said cautiously as if she didn’t believe him, possibly thinking this was some sort of trick to tame her temper.

“We did. Safe and sound, by all accounts.”

It took her a moment. He could literally see the good news dawning on her like the rising of the morning sun. Slowly but surely, the anger fading as a smile spread across her face and reached her eyes. And then, she was on him, although in a different way than he was accustomed to.

“Thank you!” She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and smothering him with kisses. “Thank you, thank you.”

Henry stumbled back in surprise, caught his footing, and then wrapped his arms around his wife as he accepted her gratitude. “Of course. I promised I would find her, and I did.”

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