Page 65 of Married to the Icy Duke
“I don’t want to hear it,” Matthew snarled, releasing Isaac with a weak little push. “I wanted my brother alive, not dead. You promised you would keep him safe. You promised.”
Isaac clenched his fists. “Do you think I didn’t try? I saved his life many times, more times than I can count. I was injured myself at that battle. I dug his grave with my bare hands, with a bandage wrapped around my head, blood-soaked and newly half-blind. Look at my face, Matthew. Look at it! I had an eye blown out. I’m a scarred monster, living with the knowledge that I could not save my friend.”
“You should have died in his place,” Matthew spat. Tears welled up in his eyes. “I wish every day that it was you.”
Isaac breathed in deeply and lifted his chin. “So do I, Matthew. So do I. But neither of us can undo the past. I encouraged Jasper to go to war; I freely admit it. But Jasper was his own man, and he made his own choices. I tried my best to save him. I did, even though you don’t believe it. I know you wish me ill, but you must stay away from me. Stay away from my family. Don’t come to my wedding. Go back to your estate and try to find peace, can’t you?”
Matthew said nothing; he just stood there and stared, his eyes hollow and unreadable. Isaac backed away from him until he could safely mount his horse and turn to leave.
Somehow, he felt that turning his back on his old friend would be a grave mistake indeed.
CHAPTER 19
Ishall make it my aim to avoid Isaac until dinner,Charlotte promised herself.
Tommy had been taken back to the nursery for a nap, and of course, Mary had gone with him. Sybella had vanished somewhere, and that left Charlotte free to wander. Before she could begin to seethe, however, a carriage came rattling into view. A quick glance out of the window confirmed who it was. Brightening, Charlotte hurried out of the door and onto the gravel to greet her friend.
The carriage trundled to a stop, and a pair of the duke’s footmen came out to open the door. Gingerly, Madeline poked her head out. Some of the fear disappeared from her face when she saw Charlotte.
“I was starting to think you’d come later, with all the others,” Charlotte said, laughing.
Madeline beamed. “I would never do that to you. Lord, I’ve missed you, Charlotte.”
Scrambling down from the too-high carriage, she hurried across the gravel to wrap her arms around Charlotte.
Madeline was petite, rather too skinny to be fashionable, and her gown really did not suit her. She was fair-haired, pale-skinned, and with rich green eyes, which should make her look beautiful in everything. However, she was often made to wear loose, old-fashioned dresses in dull blue or bedraggled green, colors which seemed to drain her rather than enhancing her beauty.
Fortunately, she was wearing her spectacles today. Often, Charlotte knew that her parents pleaded with her to leave her spectacles at home. They were plain, circular, wire-rimmed creations, and while they rather dominated Madeline’s face, they were strictly necessary for her to see. Her eyesight, poor thing, was terrible.
Charlotte pulled back, hands on Madeline’s shoulders, and inspected her. Madeline blinked back.
“You look thinner than before,” Charlotte said at last. “Are you eating?”
Madeline shrugged. “I am not often hungry.”
“Hmph. Well, you’ll eat plenty over this weekend, do you hear?”
Her friend gave a wry smile. “You always look after me so well, Charlotte. I have missed you.”
Charlotte looped an arm through her friend’s arm—not the one clutching a tattered old book to her ribcage—and led her inside.
“What book are you reading now?”
“Oh, some of Mary Wollstonecraft’s essays. Have you read them?”
Charlotte grimaced. “I suppose Ioughtto, but I never have quite managed to.”
“Shall I summarize them for you?”
“N-No, thank you.”
Madeline looked even more serious than usual. “They’re terriblyimportant, Charlotte.”
Charlotte pressed a quick kiss to her friend’s cheek. “I know, dearest, but so long as you are reading them, I shall be content that our finest minds are appreciating those essays. Now, I shall show you to your room. You’re just a few doors along from me, so don’t fret. Did you …” Charlotte paused, glancing over her shoulder. The footmen were taking down Madeline’s battered old trunk from where it was lashed to the top of the carriage. She was willing to bet that it mostly contained books. There was another issue, however.
“Where is your maid, Madeline?”
Madeline flushed, hastily averting her gaze. “Papa … Papa dismissed her.”
