Page 93 of Married to the Icy Duke
Isaac nodded. He was determined not to allow himself to think about Matthew, or Jasper, or the sight of Matthew sitting so precariously in the window of that tower, with Tommy in his arms. He moved closer, peering down at the little boy fast asleep in bed, as if to reassure himself that he was still there.
“Matthew won’t hang,” he said aloud. “He’s awake now, in a way. Awake to what he has done and who he has hurt. Perhaps … Perhaps he’ll be a better man for this. And since Tommy is unhurt, I can forgive him.”
Forgive. What a strange word. What a strangeconcept, forgiveness. Matthew wanted it with all his heart.
Perhaps I want it, too. I did promise, after all, to keep Jasper safe.
Inching closer still, Isaac crouched down beside the bed. Tommy’s long eyelashes fluttered on his cheek. He let out a ragged, sleepy sigh, fidgeting in his sleep.
“He sleeps so soundly,” Charlotte whispered. “So soundly, considering what has happened.”
“He doesn’t understand, and frankly, I’m relieved for him. We should let him forget it, eh?”
Charlotte glanced across at Isaac, her eyes dark in the gloomy room. Isaac felt a familiar hitch in his throat, a tightness in his chest.
How can she have such a powerful effect on me? I can see how men might have once thought that women had bewitched them.
“You know,” Charlotte said, her voice soft and almost dreamlike, “I always believed that I would make a terrible mother. After all, my mother was … Selfish is the right word. She did love us, in her way, but it was never enough. A woman who would organize the murder of her own husband just to move her lover into the house was never going to be a good mother, I suppose. And her blood is mine, isn’t it? I did believe that I would become like her. I thought it was inevitable. But now, I can’t help but wonder whether I could be different after all.”
“You are nothing like that woman,” Isaac murmured. “I know that for certain.”
“Now I believe that I know it, too,” Charlotte continued, shaking her head. Her brows knitted together. “I love Tommy like my own child. The fear I felt when he was gone, it… it struck me to the core. It felt as though it wouldkillme. I would never let someone hurt him. Now that I know Tommy and love him, my mother’s choice to orchestrate a murder, putting us in danger for selfish reasons, seems even more horrific. How could she do it, Isaac? How could she do it to us? I cannot fathom it.”
He reached out, placing a hand on hers. “You cannot fathom it because you arenot like her.”
She lifted her chin, nodding slowly.
“No,” Charlotte murmured thoughtfully. “I am not.” She paused and gave a tentative smile. “She came to our wedding, did I tell you that?”
Isaac sucked in a breath. “Does your brother know?”
Charlotte shook her head. “I thought it best if he didn’t know. She meant no harm. She didn’t come to disrupt anything. I saw regret in her eyes, and I longed to feelsomethingfor her, but there was just … just nothing. Nothing besides pity.”
Isaac watched her carefully, waiting for her to speak again. Gently, so as not to disturb Tommy, Charlotte pushed herself up onto one arm, staring absently down at the little boy.
“He trusts me,” Charlotte whispered, and Isaac knew without asking that she meant Tommy. “He trusts me, and I suppose … I suppose I will simply have to become the mother he needs, just as you’re becoming the father he needs.”
Isaac nodded slowly. “He called us Mama and Papa, do you remember? I shan’t allow him to forget his real Mama and Papa, but …” he paused, smiling ever so slightly. “I won’t deny that it felt good.”
Charlotte was looking at him now, her eyes glimmering in the dark.
“Don’t you sometimes feel … don’t you sometimes wonder … whether we might give Tommy a little brother or sister of his own?” she whispered, her voice catching. “Ofourown?”
Isaac glanced up, his throat working.
Was she joking? Was she serious?
Yes,came the immediate answer.She means it.
He rose unsteadily to his feet. “You are not yourself, Charlotte. This isn’t what we agreed.”
“No, but … but could we not renegotiate terms?”
Her voice was not steady, but in the dark, Isaac struggled to read her face. He tried anyway, staring in vain at her blurry, shadowed features.
“Matthew was right, you know,” he murmured, the words seeming to come from deep inside him. “I couldn’t protect his brother. I couldn’t protect Tommy. If Matthew had intended real harm, he could have done it. I am not a man who deserves a family of his own. I can’t say the same for you, Charlotte, but it’s too late to think about that. Why should I be blessed with children?”
“That isn’t …”
