Page 39 of Married to the Icy Duke
“This is hardly an appropriate subject to bring up with a child, Matthew,” Isaac interrupted, his voice hard. “Although of course we are all so very sorry for your loss.”
Loss?Charlotte thought.What loss?
She knew that it was neither the time nor the place to ask, however, and shelved the question to bring up later.
Lord Bentley seemed unconcerned by Isaac’s sharpness. He rose to his feet, turning to smile at them again. His soft brown eyes landed on Charlotte, and she found herself leaning back in her seat.
“I must offer my congratulations to you, Lady Charlotte,” he said with a smile, holding out his hand. She was obliged to take it,and he turned over her hand neatly and pressed a quick kiss to the knuckles. She tried to pull back her hand, but he had a deceptively tight grip on her fingers, and she could not do so without making a scene. “It must be a great honor, marrying such a brave man.”
At last, Charlotte wrenched her hand away. Or did he let go? At any rate, she knew she had not come out of that interaction well. Glancing briefly up at Isaac, she found that he was staring at Lord Bentley without blinking, his jaw set. A muscle ticked in his cheek.
When she looked back at Lord Bentley, she found him staring fixedly at her. The smile remained playing about his lips, but it did not reach his eyes. In fact, there was plain, unbridled hate in his gaze.
I don’t understand,she thought, bewildered.I’ve never met this man. Why does he hate me so? Why is Isaac so on edge around him? What am I missing?
She supposed it could be a Devils and Orions matter. They could be rather nasty towards each other, but this seemed ridiculous. A confrontation in Gunter’s teashop? It was the silliest thing she’d ever heard.
“I am grateful for him,” Charlotte found herself saying, fighting to hold Lord Bentley’s cold stare. “I am very glad to be marrying him.”
She felt, rather than saw, Isaac’s gaze land on her. She thought she sensed a faint surprise in his stare.
Then, equally bewildering, she realized that she had spoken the truth. Shewasgrateful to be marrying Isaac. Shewasglad to have such a good chance. He might not be the hero of a romance novel, coming to save a beleaguered, swooning heroine, but he had saved her even so.
Isaac slightly tightened his fingers on her shoulder. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought that the gesture meantthank you.
Lord Bentley sniffed loudly.
“How pleasant to hear, Lady Charlotte. Let us only hope that he remains worthy of that admiration.”
The atmosphere at the table chilled a little further. Tommy made a quiet little whimper, and Mary hauled him up into her lap. Isaac breathed out, long and slow.
“Whatever do you mean?” Charlotte managed at last. “Why should he not remain worthy of my admiration?”
Lord Bentley pursed his lips. “Well, you see, often in our deceptive modern age, people are simply not what they seem. The duke here is a man with many secrets. Let us hope that the worst of those secrets do not surface. Why, one or two ofthem might destroy your admiration of him forever. And the admiration of everybody else.”
Charlotte bristled. Was this a threat?
“You should not speak of the Duke of Arkley like that,” she snapped. Why was Isaac not coming to his own defense? Why was he staying silent?
Lord Bentley chuckled. “Or what? Tell me, my dear Lady Charlotte. What will you do if I keep on speaking?”
“That is enough,” Isaac said sharply. He removed his hand from Charlotte’s shoulder and advanced. “We will talk outside.”
She had expected Lord Bentley to protest, or perhaps to struggle. Instead, he said nothing, only staring at Isaac with an unreadable look in his eyes. Isaac grabbed his shoulder, knuckles standing out white, and began to push the man towards the exit. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught Charlotte’s eye and gave her a quick smile that was likely supposed to be reassuring.
It was not reassuring. She sat in uneasy silence, watching Isaac and the mysterious Lord Bentley disappear out of the shop.
What on earth is going on?
Isaac pushed Matthew outside, harder than he should. The man stumbled over the doorstep, only just regaining his balance. He did not complain, and Isaac felt a twinge of guilt.
“This must stop,” Isaac stated, before Matthew even turned to face him. It was hardly a private conversation, on account of the crowds flowing along the London street, but it was better than discussing the matter inside, where the others might hear.
Matthew straightened himself slowly, smoothing down his waistcoat before turning to face Isaac. Holding Isaac’s gaze, he brushed off his sleeve where Isaac’s hand had been.
“Stop?” he said at last. “Why, I’ve barely begun.”
Isaac clenched his jaw. “Matthew, believe me, I feel the pain of your grief. Your loss must be …”
