Page 26 of In Need of a Duke
He missed smelling the sweet salt breeze as the bright magenta bougainvillea danced over the trellis. He enjoyed his time on the Italian coast, loved the sun and the ocean. Certainly, far more than England’s string of cold, dreary days. But his time there had been finished. He had felt it for some time now. As though his bones were suddenly too big for his body, which was a strange way of putting it. But he didn’t fit in Italy any longer. He couldn’t hide behind the excuses of studying architecture or the need to travel. Italy was never the answer. It was only a pause.
And Charlotte had been in England.
Charlotte.
And after arguing with her earlier that morning, it felt as if he would never return.
She wanted a divorce. As if it was common practice. As if one could have a divorce along with one’s morning cup of tea and a soft-boiled egg.
“Are you going to remain hidden away while everyone leaves?”
Nathaniel strolled into the library, buttoning his jacket.
Ian gripped his book tighter, shifting his hips over the uncomfortable settee. He missed the sofa that had been here for years.
“That was my plan.”
“Hmm.” His brother clasped his hands behind his back and circled the carpet, glancing outside the wide bank of windows overlooking the forest. “Are you a little bit remorseful that you have driven everyone away?”
“Why? This is my home.”
“And I’m sure you’re eager to become reunited with your bride.”
Ian dropped the book onto his chest and peered over his reading spectacles. “My bride?”
“Yes, her name is Charlotte. A lovely woman. She also lives here. You would know that if you didn’t run?—”
“I wouldn’t finish if I were you,” Ian warned.
His brother grinned.
“You can leave now.”
“Am I uninvited?”
“I never invited you in the first place.”
“It’s hard when you’re off doing whatever or whoever…”
Ian sat up, half ready to jump to his feet and strike his fist against Nathaniel’s face. But that would only bring about more trouble. Instead, he quietly shut his book and pushed his spectacles up to rest upon his head. He was certain he must be the very picture of their father, who often did the same, but pushed past the uncomfortable thought.
“I don’t like the fact I returned to discover my brother and athrong of his rakish bachelor friends were being entertained by my wife.”
“The Honey Duchess, you mean?”
Ian growled. The sound ripped from his chest before he could stop it. “Don’t call her that.”
“Isn’t that why you ran off, though? You believe she trapped you into marriage to become a duchess?”
He remembered damn well what happened. Remembered pounding on her parents’ door, demanding to see her after her letter, terrified she was alone and afraid. Furious when her father denied him entry and told Ian, in no uncertain terms, that Charlotte had used his feelings for her as a means to leave them and London behind.
He had failed to listen to his own father’s advice prior, and met with that news, he hated himself for ever hoping to find someone to love. He married her, saw her provided for, and left.
“I don’t appreciate you bringing your friends here when I am not in residence. There is no need to attract more scandal.”
“Oh.” Nathaniel tossed his head back and laughed. “It’s not Lottie you’re concerned about. It’syourreputation. You don’t wish for the rest of London to think…what? Your wife entertains other gentlemen while you are away? That she isn’t discreet enough while you carry on with another opera singer or dancer?”
“Out!”
