Page 10 of In Need of a Duke
“Worried about what?” She stepped ahead of him and strode into the grand house. The echo of her footsteps thudded against her chest. She hated the emptiness here.
Despised it.
“Nathaniel has never been worried about a thing in his life. That’s how he wishes to keep it, no doubt. I will see to tea, and then we can all play cards or something. Mrs. Grimsby and her daughter enjoy playing.”
“I can’t stand Lavina,” he groaned.
She smirked, stopping at the foot of the grand staircase in the foyer which soared overhead, all white and reserved. “Lavina would make an excellent wife. She’s young and spirited, and she would challenge you.”
He reached out and grabbed her hand, frowning at the cut marring her knuckles.
“It’s only a scrape.”
“Trust me when I say I have no desire to marry Miss Lavina Grimsby.” He slowly brought his eyes to meet hers. “You are also young, Your Grace. Lest you forget it.”
She pulled her hand back, panic fluttering in her chest. “Yes, and I am married.”
“Leave him, let there be a scandal. I will marry you. I will marry you this very instant if only?—”
Charlotte worried over her bottom lip, guilt spiraling inside of her. She loved Monty as a friend. He was kind, and she was lonely. But it was all far too complicated. Even at twenty and nine, she knew it wouldn’t be as simple as seeking a divorce from the duke.
He never made anything easy for her, anyway.
“Monty, you will make someone the perfect husband someday. Maybe even to Lavina.” She raced up a few steps, then paused, spinning around to address the man who smiled at her from the bottom step, casually leaning against the large, ornate balustrade as if she hadn’t just rejected him again. “Please give me a few moments, and I will meet you for tea in the drawing room.”
“You deserve love, Charlotte. Do you know that?”
Love.
What a charming concept. She believed in it once. Her parents had married for love.
And once, she fancied herself in love with Ian.
But the Duke of Dandridge loved nothing. She knew that now.
“Ho, Charlotte!” Lord Nathaniel burst through the front door, tossing his arms up. “I am alive, and it’s a beautiful day. What do you say to a game of whist? I’m liking my odds.”
She laughed to herself. Nathaniel was the second son through and through.
“You believe every day is a good day.”
His friends bustled in through the door behind him, pushing one another and laughing. Then silence descended as she attempted to hide the smile pulling at her lips.
“Tea will be ready in a few minutes, everyone. I will join you shortly in the drawing room. I will see if Miss Kemp and her chaperone Mrs. Vessey are interested as well, but only if you promise to be on your best behavior.”
“Aren’t we always, Lottie?” Lord Nathaniel asked, throwing his hands to his hips.
Like the sun, her husband’s brother had the same magical quality of allowing her to feel…something.
Monty remained fixed on the stairs, his face a playful mask, but his intentions were still burning in his hazel eyes.
“I believe you are still foxed from last evening, Nathaniel,” Charlotte playfully teased. “I wouldn’t consider that your best behavior.”
“For him it is,” Lord Webb jested, elbowing his friend.
“I am not sure how I have been stuck with you lot,” she quipped.
But Charlotte knew Nathaniel hated seeing her alone. He never said as much, but it wasn’t hard for her to recognize the rogue appeared when she needed him most. If she had something to be fixed in Stonehurst or a problem with the estate, he swept in and took over.
