Page 96 of Married to the Icy Duke
Cheeks burning, Charlotte opened the door and stepped inside.
Isaac was leaning up against the footboard of his bed, arms folded tight across his chest. He’d stripped out of his jacket and cravat, the items tossed carelessly across the room.
She could see a crumpled strip of linen hanging over the back of a chair, the only thing out of place in the otherwise immaculate room. She remembered what Mrs. Ribb had said about Isaac rarely allowing the servants in his room to clean or tidy and realized with a jolt that he must keep it tidy himself.
“Why did you invite me here?” she managed, after a long silence.
Isaac sighed. “Because you are being difficult.”
She gave a short, incredulous laugh. “I?Iam being difficult? You must think about that again.”
He raked his hands through his hair, clearly searching for the words. Where had he been prior to this? His club, Charlotte thought. He spent a lot of time at his club these days. He would have spent time with Tristan there. Could Tristan have talked some sense into him? Charlotte did not know the man well, but he seemed to truly care about his friend. That was something, wasn’t it?
“Perhaps I have been …offwith you, lately,” he conceded at last. “I thought we were in agreement about this, Charlotte. About what we both wanted, that is.”
Charlotte clenched her jaw and took a step forward. “And I thought that I was clear, Isaac. I want a husband. A proper one. I would not insist on this if I didn’t believe that you do have feelings for me. At the very least, I know youdesireme! Why can we not … why can we not try?”
He held out his hands to either side. “I have told you already.”
“Ah yes, your admirable reasons,” she began to count them off on her fingers. “You wish to remain in control and believe that giving in to any sentimentality would be a loss of control. Weakness, perhaps. You believe that you do not deserve happiness or a family. Have I missed anything?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Isaac growled. “You deliberately misunderstand me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Oh? Do I? You want so badly to be left alone,your Grace, then I shall give it to you. We have nothing more to discuss.”
She turned, fully intending to leave, but was surprised by him lurching forward, hands wrapping around her wrists. His grip was not tight, but she would not slide out of it easily.
“We don’t have to part like this, Charlotte,” he whispered, eyes fixed on her. His voice cracked, which surprised her more than she had expected. She swallowed thickly. When had a lump risen into her throat?
“Oh, but we must,” she whispered. “Because you wish to remain in control.”
He closed his eyes momentarily. “I cannot control myself when it comes to you,” Isaac whispered, voice softer than she’d thought possible. “Without you, I… I fear that I am going mad.”
His fingertips burned the inside of her wrists. Charlotte’s mouth was dry, and no amount of swallowing could work moisture into it. Placing her hand over his, where it closed around her wrist, she took a step forward.
“Then you must make up your mind, husband,” she stated. “I cannot keep up with your changing moods. It is not fair to make me. You must decide whether you want me in your life or not. Decide once and for all. Please, Isaac.”
There was a long, taut silence before he spoke again. He held her gaze for every second of the silence, never even seeming to blink. Then he exhaled slowly, his shoulders deflating as he did so.
“Tristan said that I was afraid,” Isaac muttered, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it. “He notices too much for his own good, I think.”
There was a protracted silence between them. Charlotte found herself holding her breath. She had decided, long before she came here, that she would not humiliate herself by pleading with him or reasoning with him. He would make his decision, and that would be that.
Glancing across the room, he met her eye squarely. A shiver rushed through Charlotte, tensing along her spine. Her breath seemed to have gotten stuck in her lungs, and she found herself swallowing reflexively.
Hauling himself upright, Isaac moved slowly across the room towards her, his gaze fixed on Charlotte’s face. She felt heat begin to creep across her skin.
“I have tried so hard to keep my tranquility,” he murmured, voice catching. “I have tried to put you out of my mind, Charlotte. It won’t do. It doesn’t work. So, I suppose I must accept defeat at some point, mustn’t I?”
He was close enough to touch, so Charlotte gingerly extended her hands, fingertips brushing the smooth, warm material of his shirt. She slid her palms upwards, curling around his broad shoulders.
“It isn’t a defeat,” she whispered. “A man like you is neverdefeated, Isaac. Not unless you allow it.”
He gave a wry, tentative smile. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I should have listened to you all along, my dear.”
Charlotte had to smile at that. Before she could think up a witty response, Isaac pulled her close to him, tight enough to knock the breath out of her body. He kissed her, the kiss warm and deep, and her insides tightened as if they were melting. She wanted to laugh, to dance, tomove, but at the same time, she was convinced that if she let go of Isaac, even for an instant, she might actually die.
Before she had the chance to relax into the kiss, she found herself swept off her feet into a pair of strong arms and carried easily across the room.
