Page 58 of Married to the Icy Duke
His friend clapped him on the shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve been in love a hundred times—no, a thousand—and I know exactly what to do to get relief from the symptoms.”
Isaac gave a wry smile. “If you say that you’ve been in love a hundred times, I rather feel that you haven’t been in love at all.”
Tristan chuckled, shaking his head. “Take my advice or don’t, old friend. Either way, I hope you can regain your peace of mind soon.”
Isaac said nothing, thinking over what Tristan had said.
Could it work? Could bedding Charlotte make these feelings go away?
At the very least, I must try to dosomething. I cannot go on this way. I simply cannot.
Aloud, he said, “One more round?”
CHAPTER 17
“Charlotte?Charlotte! Are you listening to me at all?”
Charlotte flinched, jerked out of her reverie, and glanced across the breakfast table to where Sybella was glaring at her.
“I’ve been talking to you for ten minutes at least,” Sybella pouted, “and you’ve just stared into space as though I wasn’t talking at all. It was rather hurtful.”
Charlotte flushed. “Do forgive me, Sybella. I never meant … that is, I slept poorly last night.”
Sybella sniffed, taking a long sip of her tea. “Well, I suppose you hardly did it on purpose. This house is so very drafty that one hardly sleeps a wink. I certainly didn’t. Perhaps I’ll mention something to my brother.”
One thing that Charlotte had noticed about Sybella was that she hated being ignored or passed over. Of course,everyonehated that, but in Sybella, it seemed to provoke a sharp, almost visceral reaction. Perhaps it had something to do with Sybella’s deceased husband. She’d never met him, and Charlotte would not dare pry.
She hastily poured herself another cup of tea and began to fill her plate. It must have looked odd, her sitting there with an empty teacup and no breakfast, staring vacantly into space.
This is all his fault,Charlotte thought furiously, shoveling rather too much bacon onto her plate.This is Isaac’s fault.
Seeing him at dinner, after the incident in the washroom, had been … it had been a trial. Charlotte could not help replaying it over and over in her head—the sensation of the water sloshing around her calves, his lips on the side of her neck, histouchon her body. She could feel the ghost of his fingertips on the insides of her thighs, knuckles brushing the join of her legs.
The teacup clattered loudly against her teeth, tea slopping over the sides. Swallowing hard, Charlotte put it down with a clack. Sybella was watching her with her eyes narrowed.
“Youaretired,” she remarked. “Perhaps you ought to take the day to rest. The guests are beginning to arrive tonight, remember?”
A cold rush shot through Charlotte. Ofcourse. The wedding wastomorrow. How could she have forgotten? All the preparationshad been done without her input, which of course she didn’t much care about, but now that the day was here, she felt so … so unprepared.
“Heavens,” Charlotte managed, offering a faint laugh. “That has certainly crept up on us, hasn’t it?”
Sybella eyed her narrowly. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, I am not.”
To her surprise, Charlotte realized that it was the truth. Despite her strange, new relationship with Isaac—it was not love, she reminded herself, nor even friendship, but something odd and indefinable and entirely inconvenient—she did not feel that breaking off the betrothal was a wise choice.
At any rate, breaking off a wedding the day before the ceremony would be a social death for any woman, let alone one like Charlotte.
When she glanced across the table, Sybella was still looking at her, eyes narrowed. Charlotte forced a smile.
“I take it Isaac is not joining us for breakfast?” she managed brightly.
Sybella sniffed. “No, he is not. He went out to his club early. I imagine we shan’t see him again today.”
Charlotte had hoped to feel relief at the news of his absence, or at best, nothing at all.
Her prayers were not answered, and instead, she felt her heart sink.
