Page 6 of The Virgin Duchess

She nearly fell to the floor; the shock was so great. Charlotte couldn’t stop the immediate need to lean forward, her jaw dropping open. When she snapped it shut once more, she blustered, utterly taken off guard.

“You can’t be serious. You wish to marry? Me, of all people? Why on earth would we do that?”

Still as stoic and unreadable as ever—the odd change to his usual charming countenance persistent as a weed—Frederick only raised his brows a hair, staring straight into her eyes.

“You will not be compelled to testify against me as my wife.”

Charlotte expected more from the Duke, but he allowed the statement hang in the air.

“And? That serves only you, Your Grace.” She glowered at him, becoming increasingly irritated with this entire conversation. “You have yet to tell me how the arrangement would be of benefit to myself.”

Nodding once, Frederick exhaled hard. “I’d have thought that was obvious. I will not speak of whatIsaw last evening, and I shall provide for you utterly. You will be completely taken care of and provided with whatever you desire as the duchess of my estate.”

“Your Grace, I?—”

“Furthermore,” he cut in, not allowing Charlotte to speak, “I will permit you to go wherever you wish, including the clandestine location you were returning from last evening. So long as you can be discreet, of course.”

Charlotte was at a loss. Frederick was indeed an excellent businessman. The merits of the arrangement were evident, and she found it difficult to come up with reasons that she should not take him up on it. Her making the journey on a regular basis had been discovered by her brother, and only this morning had she begun to work on a way to continue her outings without notice.

The Duke’s proposal offered a genuine answer to how she might carry on.

Can I trust him, though? He has said nothing about the Baron, and?—

“Your Grace,” Magnus strolled into the front hall, smiling evenly, “thank you for waiting so patiently. I do hope my sister was able to entertain you.”

He seemed in as pleasant a mood as could be expected, but when her brother stepped up next to her, he regarded her with a quizzical expression. Magnus’s brows were threaded with curious skepticism, and Charlotte bowed her head in a show of respect.

“Please, if you’d like to join me in the study, we can discuss whatever matter has brought you all this way.”

Charlotte turned to face Frederick, waiting for his reply as eagerly as Magnus.

“There shall be no need to take up your study, Your Grace.” Frederick smiled cooly at Magnus. “I would, in fact, like Lady Charlotte to be present for my proposal.”

She yanked her attention away from the Duke to her brother, seeing Magnus’s jaw drop as surely as hers had. His brows hit his hairline, and Magnus took a step forward, putting himself slightly between Charlotte and Frederick.

This is it, Lotte. What are you going to do?

Sucking in a hearty lungful of air, Charlotte licked her lips before stepping up past her brother and closer to Frederick. She plastered on her best smile, putting her hand to her chest.

“Finally, Your Grace. I had thought you might never ask.”

Both men cast their glances her way. The surprise painted on Magnus’s face only doubled down. In contrast, the Duke still regarded her with that schooled expression. Still at the edges, in the depths of Frederick’s grey stare, she could see a glimmer of delight—no doubt pleased that his plan had come to fruition.

Smile all you like, Frederick. I will do what I need to do, as I always have. And neither you nor my brother will keep me from mygreaterduties.

Chapter Three

It was raining. It was her wedding day, and it was raining. Some said that it was good luck, but Charlotte had a feeling that the superstition had been created to make brides feel better when their nuptials were ruined by a sudden downpour.

“Oof,” Magnus’s low groan cut through her thoughts, and Charlotte glanced over at him.

The carriage ride was particularly bumpy today, or perhaps it was only that the ride was utterly silent, and so each jostle of the wheels was painstakingly noticeable.

Her brother looked the same way he had for the past few weeks since the first notice was posted in the Banns. His brow was in a permanent furrow, and Charlotte could see tension pulling the muscles of his jaw tight. After a moment, he glanced back at her, and Charlotte attempted to duck her stare away.

It was unsuccessful.

“Why…” his voice filled the silence like a heavy thud, “…why would you marry someone like him? A rake like…him?”

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