Page 66 of Married to the Icy Duke
“What?”
“It was my fault.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“No, I … I wasn’t dutiful, I ought to have tried harder, and he said …”
Charlotte cut her off, turning to face her friend and gripping her shoulders.
“Whatever went wrong,” she said firmly, forcing Madeline to look her in the eyes, “It was not your fault. I’d like to hear you say it.”
“Charlotte …”
“I mean it. Say it.”
Madeline closed her eyes momentarily. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“There. I’m glad.” Charlotte breathed out, then met her friend’s eyes and smiled. “Come. Let’s go and see your room.”
“Oh, it’slovely!” Madeline breathed. “Did you pick this room, Charlotte?”
Charlotte, lounging on achaise longue, grinned. “I certainly did. I thought you’d enjoy the books.”
She had picked the West Reading Room as Madeline’s room. It was not often used as a guest room, as it was rather small and, of course, full of books. Charlotte, however, knew that was exactly what would appeal to Madeline.
Carefully laying her book down, Madeline walked over to the shelves that ringed the room, trailing her fingers over the spines.
“He has a good collection of books, then? Your husband-to-be?” she asked, her back carefully turned.
It occurred to Charlotte that Madeline had not once referred to her upcoming marriage. Swallowing hard, Charlotte glanced away.
“I do not believe he reads often, but yes, he has a well-stocked library. His family’s collection is quite extensive.”
Madeline glanced over her shoulder. “You like him, then?”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
She lifted her fair eyebrows. “Which would you like it to be?”
Biting her lip, Charlotte conjured up an image of Isaac in her head. In her mind, he stood, broad-shouldered and wryly smiling, at the entrance to her washroom. The eyepatch across his face cut a strange shadow, his other eye burning brighter than ever. He grinned, slow and wolfish, with two over-sharp canines pressing into his lower lip. With a jolt, Charlotte found herself wanting to feel those sharp teeth press againstherlip. Heat bubbled in her chest, and desire plunged between her legs, sudden and powerful.
Swallowing hard, she scrambled to her feet, crossing the room to the window. There was a deep window seat there, well-padded, with cushions to protect one’s back from the wall. It was set rather low, obliging one to lower oneself down upon it. Charlotte did so, tucking her legs up underneath herself, the hem of her skirt covering her feet.
Madeline followed her, and when Charlotte glanced up, she saw that her friend’s face was grim.
“There’s something about him that bothers you, isn’t there?” Madeline said at last.
Charlotte sighed. “I can’t explain it. He seems to take great pleasure in annoying me, but he’s hardly cruel. In fact, he can be … can be kind, when he wishes it. He’s certainly fair. He’spromised me freedom, and I believe he will keep his word. Besides, he dotes on that sweet nephew of his.”
Madeline curled up on the seat opposite Charlotte, drawing her knees to her chest.
“I heard,” she said carefully, “that he locks the boy up in a room and plans to send him away to school the instant he’s old enough. I am not accusing him,” she added hastily. “I am only repeating what is said.”
Charlotte sniffed. “Well, it isn’t true. Like I said, he dotes on little Tommy. I can’t help but feel that he never expected to be a father, and the idea terrifies him. You should see the nursery Tommy has. So many toys! And books, and games, and everything. Tommy has everything he wants, and Isaac is trying, trying so hard to take good care of him. He is only marryingmebecause he thinks I will make a good mother to Tommy,” she added, shrugging. The reality of it was like a cold bucket of water over her head, as always. “He’s wrong about that, of course. I wouldn’t make anyone a good mother.”
Madeline frowned. “You’re too harsh on yourself. You would never say such a thing to a friend, would you? You’d never say that tome?”
“Well, of course not.”
