Page 54 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

“Then, you made a deal with him?” Charlotte asked. “Pretend he’s courting you for… for what reason, though?”

“He didn’t want you worrying about him anymore.” Not entirely the truth, but Thalia couldn’t bear to be so blunt about it. To know your brother found your efforts annoying, distracting… it was simply too much.

“So he wanted me out of his hair,” Charlotte grumbled. “Good to know he thinks so highly of me.”

“Charlotte.”

“He’s so—so emotionally stunted, Thalia!” Charlotte groaned loudly, flopping onto her back as she threw her hands up in frustration. “He has this whole notion of being in control of everything, and—and I know he’s the head of the house, and he quite literally is in control of so many people’s livelihoods, and the well-being of Stonewell—I just—!” She stopped herself, forcing a breath before falling silent. Thalia watched as her chest rose and fell, her eyes squeezed shut, and she muttered something under her breath.

“Are you alright?” Thalia asked.

A beat passed, and eventually, Charlotte sat up once more. “I… will be. But, are you alright? I mean, he hasn’t done anything… untoward, right?”

“N-No, of course not!” Thalia shook her head furiously, memories of the library turning to ash in her mouth. “Charlotte, your brother has been nothing but cordial with me. I promise; he hasn’t done anything I disapproved of.”

Charlotte appeared somewhat relieved, but she looked… more tired than Thalia had ever seen before. “I guess… I didn’t realize how much I hoped he was being genuine. When I see you with him… I don’t know. He felt different to me, like he was enjoying the idea of courting you. Like he really wanted to give the idea of marriage another go.”

Thalia’s eyes widened slightly, and she did her best to keep her voice even. “Gabriel… has no interest in marrying?”

Charlotte shook her head, fists clenching. “Since the day Father died—after Mother betrayed us all, he swore he’d never let himself be open like that. Love someone like Father had.”

This was so much, and so suddenly. Thalia felt herself grow faint, and she leaned against the back of her seat. “I… had no idea she’d done that to you. Charlotte, I’m—I’m so sorry.”

Charlotte remained quiet, her gaze boring into the cushion beside her.

Thalia swallowed, wanting both to comfort and satiate her curiosity. She felt terrible for even considering asking further, and instead, reached out to grasp Charlotte’s hands. It felt like such a hollow gesture, but Charlotte squeezed back immediately, panic overtaking the younger Harding’s voice.

“Thalia, if he’s toying with your heart—you would tell me, wouldn't you?”

Could she tell Charlotte? What was there to even say? Thalia was still reeling from the previous revelations—their mother’s betrayal, Gabriel’s adamant stance against marriage—and Thalia’s being felt as if she’d been torn to pieces and scattered to the winds. But, that wasn’t what Charlotte needed right now. So, Thalia exhaled softly and offered a nod.

“If… if he is, I will let you know.”

“Promise?”

Gracious, but that little word felt like a dagger to Thalia’s soul. She hadn’t even done anything wrong, and yet, it felt so much like the final twist. “It’s… the least I can do, after lying so long to you.”

Charlotte offered a weak smirk, a peal of loose laughter escaping her lips. “It hurts to find out, but… I understand why you did it. I promise I’m not upset with you, all right? I just,” she sighed, visibly exhausted. “I wish I knew what was real and what isn’t. Gabriel is entirely too convincing of an actor, sometimes.”

You have no idea, Thalia thought bitterly.

* * *

It was the first time in quite some time that Gabriel felt giddy about anything. The truest sense of the word, untainted by a desire for vengeance or control. As soon as the ladies left the mansion, he wasted no time preparing the mansion’s interior for the alluded-to shipment, and now, nearly the whole of the entryway was filled to the brim with customized gowns, all specially tailored for Thalia.

Brilliant emeralds, rich and deep burgundies—it was a myriad of beautiful colors that spoke of wealth and sophistication. After today, no one in the ton would look upon his little rabbit with disdain.

The crunching of wheels against gravel caught his attention, and Gabriel gestured toward the servants to abscond throughout the house. Running a hand through his hair, he approached the front doors and pushed them open, greeting the carriage with a relaxed smile.

“Welcome back, ladies. Your arrival is just in–-” he stopped, shoulders stiffening as Charlotte came bounding up the stairs with a storm cloud hanging over her. “Charlotte, what’s wrong?”

She immediately pushed past him, stumbling into the entryway before finally noticing the dresses. With a snarling outcry, Charlotte shot him the dirtiest look to date before making for the main staircase.

“Charlotte?” Gabriel tried calling after her, only to hear another pair of footsteps climb up the entryway. He turned, facing Thalia head-on as she, too, looked rather melancholy. “Why is it every time you’re alone with my sister–”

“Please, Gabriel,” Thalia begged. “Not now.”

Gabriel frowned, stepping to the side and allowing Thalia to pass. His hand instead went to help the maid, who quickly excused herself with a nod of her head and hurried into the nearest door. Before he could speak, he heard Thalia’s choked gasp at the sight of the dresses. “I suppose this comes at an inopportune time, then?” he asked.

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