Page 75 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

“Oh, yes!” Agnes slapped her own forehead. “I was thinking of someone else. Here, let me go with you.” Without asking, she linked her arm with Charlotte’s. “We can’t have you walking about by yourself. That simply will not do.”

Charlotte kept her smile, although she very much wanted to scowl. What she needed to do was put on a happy face and perpetuate the lie she would be telling all night, so that it might be believed. Her husband was sick. He wanted to come tonight. And was it not for the fact that he was in bed, he would be here, having the most splendid time with a wife whom he loved above all else.

Honestly, just repeating the lie to herself, Charlotte was having a hard time believing it.

“Come now…” Agnes began to lead Charlotte through the ball. As she did, she waved at those she passed, and Charlotte caught her gesturing to her, as if to saySee, I told you so.

Charlotte kept her head down as she walked, cheeks flushing from embarrassment, stomach twisting because she thought she might suddenly throw up.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. For five whole days, she had convinced herself there was no chance whatsoever that her night would turn out like this. She and Henry were happy. They had come so far. He had made her a promise and had managed to lure her into such a false sense of security that she believed that promise. And then, this morning, everything changed.

My dearest Charlotte,

Please forgive me, but I am afraid that I will not make it home in time for tonight’s ball. Something terribly important has come up that I simply cannot ignore, keeping me in the north for at least another day. Possibly two. I do hope you have fun tonight, however, and I will see you when I return.

Yours,

Henry.

She hadn’t believed it when she had first read it. Surely, it was a joke? Surely, he was teasing her? Surely, he would walk through the door a moment later, a big smile on his face, delighting in how he had fooled her? But no…

In spite of how far Charlotte had believed she and Henry to have come these past few weeks, it seemed that most of it was in her head. Oh sure, they could talk to one another in a civilized manner. They could make jokes without getting angry. And their sex life was, without question, fabulous. But was that what she wanted? Would that sustain her for the rest of her life?

She had thought that she and Henry might fall in love. A marriage of convenience turned into a love match because she had truly believed that Henry was of the same mind. Now, she knew better.

And as Agnes led Charlotte through the ball, smiling a triumphant smile the whole time, and as Charlotte felt the eyes on her, as she saw the judgmental whispers aimed in her direction, she realized that this marriage of hers was exactly as it had always been. A marriage of convenience and no more. Worse than that, it was a marriage at Henry’s convenience.

ChapterTwenty-Five

Henry couldn’t help but feel nervous as his estate appeared in the distance. He’d been away for seven long days. He’d spent the better part of today on horseback. His body ached as if he’d just taken a beating. Truly, it felt good to be home. A shame about the nerves, then.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Oliver asked as he kicked his mount forward to ride beside Heny. “You might need some support.”

“No, I should be fine,” Henry assured him, his eyes still on his home as it slowly grew closer. “But I’ll be sure to write you after.”

“You better.” Oliver chuckled then. “But to see his face. It’s a shame I’ll miss it.”

“You’ll just have to imagine, I suppose.”

“I’ll dream of it.” Oliver grinned. “Maybe have a painting commissioned. We’ll see.”

Henry side-eyed his best friend, saying nothing but chuckling lowly to himself. It felt forced, however, a necessary reaction because of how he was feeling. There were storm clouds gathering overhead as they had been all day, thick and heavy and dark, soon to burst and drown all those unlucky enough to find themselves under them without cover. It felt ominous to Henry, as if the storm built for him and him alone.

It was a shame that things had to be this way. A further shame that he couldn’t put it off for a day or two so that he might have a chance to enjoy his return after seven long days. For he was sure that Charlotte would be nothing but excited to see him walk through those front doors, and he would have very much liked to have shared in that joy.

Truly, thoughts of her were what kept him going. He had a task before him, one that he relished far less than Oliver seemed to think he should, and he might not have had the stomach to deal with it were it not for the fact that Charlotte would be there for him after. She was a shining light in what was otherwise a tumultuous storm.

“I’ll hear from you later,” Oliver called as they reached the fork in the road. He veered to the right, and Henry to the left, his eyes fixed on his estate.

A crack of lightning suddenly lit the sky above, warning Henry that the storm would arrive at any moment, so best that he hurried.

And, indeed, it was just as Henry reached his home, leaving his horse at the stables to be collected and housed, that the clouds above opened, and rain began to fall in heavy droves. He hurried around the castle, one hand sheltering his head as he kicked the front door open and just about fell into the foyer.

Miss Barrow was the first to greet him, but that wasn’t surprising, as she must have seen him coming down the road.

“Your Grace.” She smiled as she swept across the foyer. She was carrying a towel with her and handed it to him. “Welcome home.”

“It’s good to be home,” he greeted with a smile as he dried himself. “I’m expecting company within the half hour, Miss Barrow. If you’ll be so kind as to have the fire lit in my study.”

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