Page 77 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

“Huh.”

“Yes…” Still, he watched her, hoping for more than middling interest. “He’s on his way over right now—not that he knows the reason. It promises to be an awkward conversation, for the man is both a cousin and a friend to me. Although not as good of a friend as I had thought, clearly.”

“He’s on his way over now?” Her tone turned sour.

“I sent ahead for him to come here as soon as possible.”

“So, you did have time, then?”

“Excuse me?”

“To send word ahead. You told me that you didn’t have time to do so, otherwise you would have let me know that you were due home today. But apparently, you did.” She looked right at him, her expression devoid of emotion, as if the question bored her.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Henry offered, sensing a trap. “I thought it might be… be fun.”

“Consider me surprised.”

“Charlotte…” He half made to reach for her but held back because it felt awkward to do, as if worried she might recoil at his touch. “Correct me if I am wrong here, but are you upset with me?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“You seem… distant.”

“Do I? I had no idea.”

“Clearly, something is bothering you.”

“Well, it is not.” That smile returned, and she batted her eyelashes. “Maybe I’m just tired. In fact…” She put her book down and rose from the couch, careful to step around Henry and not get too close. “I might retire early to bed. Seeing as Lord Talbot is on the way over, and I’d hate to get in the way.” And then, without another word, she walked right by him.

“Bed?” He went after her. “It’s not yet evening!”

“Like I said, I’m tired,” she said, still not looking back as she went. “And you’re busy.”

“Not so busy that I don’t wish to see you.” He rushed ahead, cutting her off, forcing her to come to a halt. “And not so busy that I can’t tell that something is clearly wrong.”

“I told you, nothing is wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!” he snapped at her.

The confusion and surprise were gone, replaced now by anger because Charlotte wasn’t just behaving strangely, but she was being purposefully rude and disrespectful. Something he could not abide.

“Since the moment I returned, you’ve treated me like a stranger in my own home—like a rodent who has wandered in from the rain.”

“I had no idea.” She crossed her arms and fixed him with a glare that told him otherwise.

“I had thought…” He spoke through a clenched jaw to keep himself from snarling. “I had thought that after being away for seven days, you might be excited to see me. That you might be happy I was home.”

“Did I say otherwise?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You haven’t said much of anything. Now, please, tell me, what is wrong? Why are you behaving like…” he trailed off, cutting himself short before he said something he might regret.

“Like what?”

“Like a spoiled brat!” he snapped.

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