Page 24 of Married to the Icy Duke
“May I speak plainly, Lady Charlotte?”
Charlotte blinked. “Well, yes, of course. I should hope you’ll always speak plainly with me.”
“Thank you. Well, then, here it is: The duke is a man set in his ways. You may discuss your schedule with him once you are married, but for now, you and I would do best to follow his rules without complaint. It is the easiest way, after all.”
There was a long silence after that. Mrs. Ribb, to her credit, did not back down or show any signs of discomfort or that she regretted what she had said.
“Thank you for your frankness,” Charlotte said at last. “But I have never been very good at following rules. I should like to speak to the duke.”
“At dinner …”
“No, Mrs. Ribb. I want to speak to him now.”
Now the housekeeper seemed a little rattled. “That is not possible, Lady Charlotte.”
“Why? Is he not at home?”
“Well, yes, but …”
“Then take me to him. Is he in his study?”
“His chambers, I believe, but really …”
“Mrs. Ribb,” Charlotte interrupted, taking a step closer. “If this marriage to the duke really does go ahead, I shall be the Duchess of Arkley. I shall rely heavily on you to help me run this house and act as a duchess should. As well as this, I hope we shall be friends. However, Ishallbe a duchess, and I should hope that your loyalty will belong to me. I would like to start as we mean to go on. Please be so kind as to take me to the duke, or I shall find him myself.”
There was another long silence. Mrs. Ribb stared up at Charlotte, as if trying to read her mind.
“Very well,” she said at last, her expression unchanged and her voice soft. “Follow me, my lady.”
The housekeeper led Charlotte on a shockingly long walk, down endless, carpeted hallways and across large, half-empty rooms containing only a few bookshelves and highly polished floors. The small woman set a brisk pace, and Charlotte was left to scurry along behind.
Abruptly, she stopped in a perfectly nondescript hallway, no different from any of the other hallways they had trudged through.
“This is the duke’s room,” Mrs. Ribb explained, gesturing at an ordinary-looking door. “I shall not stay while you speak to him. The duke does not like servants to enter his private wing, except for occasional cleaning. Or anybody, for that matter.”
Charlotte hadn’t expected this. Before she could respond, Mrs. Ribb made another curtsey.
“I trust you can find your own way back to your rooms, my lady?” she added softly.
Swallowing, Charlotte nodded. Mrs. Ribb shot her a wry smile and turned on her heel, trotting off along the hall.
Charlotte stared after her for a moment.
Perhaps this is a bad idea.
Before she could think more on the wisdom of her actions, Charlotte turned and knocked firmly on the door.
“Who is it?” came a deep, lazy voice from within.
“It is me, Your Gr—Isaac. Charlotte. Your betrothed.”
There was a short silence.
“I see,” Isaac responded at last, his voice a little sharper. “Has Mrs. Ribb not settled you in properly, then?”
“No, she has, but I should like to speak to you about something.”
“We will discuss it at dinner.”
