Page 93 of The Duchess' Replacement

Sarah clenched her muscles to stop her finger from shaking as she pointed to the door. “You just told your brother that you had fixed his last mistake. Am I a mistake?”

Charles heaved a sigh. “Sarah. How our marriage came to be is not a shock to you. It was a mutual arrangement. When I said I fixed his last mistake I meant the disgrace he brought onto this family by him leaving you at the alter.”

“Therefore, a mistake.” She offered.

“Exactly. I fixed his mistake.” Charles looked relieved.

Sarah’s eyebrows pinched together. “And by him leaving me at the alter, a mistake, you fixed it by marrying me. A mistake.”

Charles’s brow furrowed. “You’re taking my words out of context. I didn’t mean that.”

Sarah looked up surprised. “I thought you always say what you mean.” She countered.

Charles took a step towards her which caused her to retreat a step and put her hands up in a defensive manner.

“Sarah. In the beginning we agreed to marry to help each other. Neither of us wanted that charade of a wedding to haunt us. You yourself said it was a farce.” Charles spoke earnestly.

Sarah’s voice held no emotion. “And you fixed it. Like you always do.”

She could feel herself shutting down emotionally. Every word he spoke provided her with one more brick to build the wall around her heart.

Charles’s breathing returned to normal and he shook his head. “Yes, you know I will fix any problems that comes our way.”

“Whether we like it or not.” She offered.

“Now hold on,” Charles tried to interject.

Sarah steamrolled over his words. “No matter if it actually hurts us in the long run. As long as you get your way in the here and now, all is well with everyone and if it’s not,” she shrugged. “Then it is on them and they must be the problem.”

“Sarah.” Charles pleaded.

She pursed her lips, lost in thought. She felt as if she was wading through molasses, her mind became sluggish and she was having trouble concentrating on the man in front of her. She just wanted comfort. She was tired of fighting. Fighting to understand him. Fighting for support, for connection. She was tired of fighting for them.

“I can understand us.” She waved a finger between them. “We’re still new to each other. But I just watched you cut off your own brother, your own flesh and blood.”

Charles shook his head. “You do not understand the damage that man has done to this family.”

Sarah’s laugh rang out, startling Charles. “Of course I don’t understand. How could I?You tell me nothing. You’ve trained your staff to be just as guarded. As if they whisper a single truth about your past then the whole world would come crashing down on the them. Even poor Nora, who is just a girl,” she added, “is worried to express herself freely.”

Fury propelled her forward. “You know who wasn’t afraid to be honest with me? Eli.”

Charles flinched.

“Eli. Your brother, who, yes, has made many poor choices in his life, but came to me under his own volition to make amends. You know what that shows me, Charles?” She taunted. “That shows growth and change and you” she poked his chest, “stand there and call him coward and throw him out of his home.”

Charles stood his ground. “You will never understand.”

More bricks for her wall.

“Ah. I see.” She rubbed her clammy palms onto her dress. “That’s it then, right?” She kept her tone conversational, even though it began to tremble.

“I have no recourse to that response, Charles. It’s your way or no way. I can’t understand if you don’t let me understand.” She shrugged. “But to do that you would have to open up to me. I’m starting to think even a wedding ceremony isn’t enough motivation for you to do that.”

She eyes drifted to the window then back to Charles. He was still standing, ever at the ready for the next attack. He was exhausting and she was tired.

Her shoulders sagged as she sighed. “Perhaps I shall take you up on your earlier statement and I should find other accommodations.”

“What?” Charles’s voice was heavy. “What do you mean?”

---