Page 92 of In Need of a Duke
“Harris?” Ian repeated the name over and over again until he remembered having heard it at his club recently. Arabella Harris, London’s most coveted courtesan.
“He has been foolishly in love with her, and this evening she found herself in trouble over some gambling debts. We had been out drinking and had decided to visit her, and we were there at the wrong time.”
“And he thought he would interfere?” Ian scrubbed his face, beyond frustrated. It was only when he looked up again that he noted Monty’s bloody nose and the cut on his cheek.
“I love her,” Nathaniel murmured. “And they hurt her, Ian. They laid their damn hands on her!”
“Shh,” Charlotte grabbed a cloth from the housekeeper and wiped gingerly at Nathaniel’s face. “You can tell us later. Be quiet for now.”
Instead, he moaned, and Monty shuffled around the room as if lost.
“I don’t understand why you needed to bring him here,” Ian complained. His stomach soured at the smell of vomit and whiskey consuming the room.
“Bring him here?” Charlotte balled her fists, stopping a moment toglare at Ian. At that moment, he suddenly felt two feet tall. “He’s your brother, Ian. Monty, thank you for alerting us. We can sort out the rest later.”
“I’m going to marry her,” Nathaniel mumbled, before suddenly turning his head to the side and spitting up blood. “I will.”
“Shh, now,” Charlotte cooed.
Ian fought back against the pang of jealousy stabbing him in the chest at her kind words.
“You’re with family, and we care about your well-being.”
“Family?” Nathaniel scoffed. “I don’t know any longer.”
Monty scoffed. “I would argue you don’t know much at the moment. You’ve been drinking for three days and could barely walk before we met Miss Harris.”
“Family,” Charlotte answered, cupping Nathaniel’s face in her hands. “My family. Always.”
It was love that bloomed in his chest then for his wife. In Ian’s absence, Charlotte and Nathaniel had become like brother and sister.
Because whether Charlotte wanted to admit it or not, she had the rare gift of making everyone feel loved when she was around, cared for and seen. And Ian could spend the rest of his life being jealous of her attention being turned toward others, or he could love her more for it. And in this instance, he decided he needed to trust her and let her love.
Falling in love, being in love, and being loved were facets that he had to learn. He had to shatter the lies that he had been told, the opinions of others, to find out what he truly believed.
Charlotte had shown him that love was not just sweeping someone into your arms in a ballroom and making promises about tomorrow, but remaining by their sickbed, worrying, and waiting for them to be well again. It was the crack of relief that hit your chest when their eyes finally peeked open, and their gaze met yours when their fever broke.
Love was questioning the space that followed the answers. For too long, he had moved through the world believing he only held valuebecause of the title he was born with. He had allowed those insecurities to build fear and doubt, pushing her love away.
In the aftermath, it was only the truth that mattered. That he loved her. Truly. Every imperfect minute of the journey.
CHAPTER 26
A week later,Ian lay awake in bed, watching Charlotte sleep. The flickering candlelight danced across her skin as her blonde hair cascaded around her and over her bare shoulder. The sheets smelled of apples and roses, like a warm spring day.
He smiled to himself, overwhelmed at how content he was to see her so at peace. He would do anything to hold on to this feeling, to protect her from the rest of London.
To love her.
Slowly, he rolled off the bed and paused as she stirred, searching for him along the mattress. Ian moved the pillow to his spot. “I’ll be right back, Lottie,” he whispered.
She made a soft sigh before slipping back into sleep.
He drew his dressing gown tight as he strode out into the dark hallway, glancing at the clock. At nearly one in the morning, he should be asleep, but he had left too much unsaid between himself and Nathaniel. First, he made a quick trip to the kitchen before striding into the library.
“Good, you’re up,” Ian announced.
Nathaniel sat propped on the sofa, hugging a pillow to his middle, his head resting in his hand as he stared at the fireplace.
