Page 10 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

“It looked like more than that.”

“Careful, Cousin.” He showed his palms. “Your upbringing is starting to show. You really need to calm down.”

“And you need to remember where you are and who you are speaking with.” The Duke raised a warning eyebrow at his cousin, teeth bared. “And I will remind you to keep your hands to yourself.”

Lord Talbot looked as if he meant to argue, but then he became aware of the few people in the vicinity who took note of the minor scuffle. Rather than defending himself, seeming to see the position he was in, he offered a short bow of apology, mumbled something under his breath, and stalked away.

The Duke watched him go before turning back to Charlotte. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice softer than she had expected.

“Oh…” She blinked. “Yes. Yes, I am quite fine. It really wasn’t?—”

“If he bothers you again, let me know.” He looked right at her, and she understood his meaning immediately.

“I will,” she said with a small smile. “And… and thank you.”

The Duke scowled, although she sensed it wasn’t aimed at her. Then he took note of the room, realizing now that more than a few people were watching them. “We should go.”

“W-what?” she stammered. The suddenness of the request caught her by surprise. “Go? Go where?”

“Home.” He straightened up. “I think we’re done here.”

And that was her wedding day. Barely a word spoken to her husband. Feeling alone and isolated for most of it, simply because she was made to feel that way. Ordered to leave early for no other reason than her husband demanded it of her because, as she was starting to see now, that was how this marriage was going to be from now until forever.

Although… as strange as it might have sounded, a small part of her couldn’t help but mull over what had just happened. The way the Duke had defended her. How gallant he had been. For all his coldness and antipathy and disinterest toward her, that was the first sign he’d shown that suggested that maybe, just possibly, this marriage wouldn’t be as bad as she had thought. That there was a chance, however minute, that he could care for her.

* * *

The carriage rattled down the road at a steady pace. Behind it was Charlotte’s father’s estate, her former home, which she had been raised in and all she had ever known. Ahead, the carriage’s destination, was the Duke’s estate, a place she had never seen or been to, a place that would be her home from now until the day she died.

The Duke sat across from her, staring out the window in a state of contemplative silence. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since he informed her that they’d be leaving, and he seemed intent on continuing this trend for no other reason than he appeared to have nothing to say.

Again, Charlotte eyed him curiously, wondering to herself who this man was. Her husband. A man she was expected to spend the rest of her life with. A man who hadn’t wanted to marry her but had done so anyway because… she wasn’t sure. Is this what she could expect for the rest of her life? Silence? Isolation? Disinterest? Or was his mother right, and there was more to him than he was letting on?

She considered just sitting there and letting the silence grow. If he wanted to speak, he would do so. But Charlotte knew that if she did that, it might set a trend from here on out, and while she didn’t expect love to suddenly bloom between them, at the very least, she might have liked some sort of amicability to grow between them.

“Thank you,” she said softly, although it sounded as if she was shouting, such was the silence between them. “For earlier.”

“Hhmm?” He pulled himself away from the window and looked at her finally, a curious smile on his lips as if he were surprised that she knew how to speak.

“What you did earlier,” she clarified nervously. “With your cousin. That was… very kind.”

He frowned at the comment. “Is that what it was? Kind?”

“Well…” She shifted uncomfortably. “You didn’t have to do what you did, but the fact that you chose to… I was surprised.” She smiled, and his frown deepened. “And grateful.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said with a vague shrug. “You are my wife, after all. And nobody should touch you like that. Ever.”

He let that final word hang between them, making sure she understood, and then he went back to looking out the window.

“It caught me by surprise, was all,” she continued, not content to let the silence build again. “Until that point, I must confess…” She tittered. “I wasn’t sure you were aware of the fact.”

“What fact?”

She smiled coyly. “That I was your wife.”

He leaned back and scrunched his brow. “Meaning?”

“Well… it’s been what, two weeks since we last spoke? I thought maybe you were upset with me.”

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