Page 88 of Married to a Frozen Duke
"Enthusiasm. Loyalty. Making inappropriate jests at the worst possible moments."
"Charming."
"They're not mean-spirited. Just... unfiltered."
"And you think unfiltered Coleridges in this house will go well?"
"I think it will be interesting."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
The morning passed in tense preparation. Mrs. Morrison had the guest rooms prepared to perfection. Cook planned meals that were elegant but not ostentatious. Ophelia tried to think of topics of conversation that wouldn't lead to disaster and came up depressingly short.
She was in the library, attempting to distract herself with a book, when Alexander found her.
"They're here," he said.
"Already? It's barely noon."
"Apparently punctuality isn't their strong suit in either direction."
She set down her book, smoothed her skirts, and tried to calm her racing heart. "How do they look?"
"Loud," he said dryly. "Even from a distance, they look loud."
Despite her nerves, she laughed—that little snorting laugh he'd mentioned. "That's Charles and Edward."
"The snort," he observed.
"Stop mentioning it or I'll become self-conscious."
"Too late for that, I think."
They walked together toward the entrance hall, and Alexander did something unexpected; he offered her his arm. Not formally, not stiffly, but almost naturally.
"United front?" she asked.
"United front," he confirmed.
The entrance hall was chaos. Charles and Edward had apparently brought half of the Coleridge house with them; trunks, packages, and what looked suspiciously like a crate of something that was making concerning noises.
"Phee!" Charles spotted her first and bounded over like an enthusiastic retriever, catching her in a hug that lifted her off her feet before anyone could protest about propriety.
"Can't breathe," she gasped.
"Sorry, sorry." He set her down, grinning. "You look magnificent! Like a proper duchess! Edward, look at our Phee!"
Edward was more restrained, kissing her cheek rather than crushing her ribs. "You do look well. Being a duchess suits you."
"Despite the circumstances," Charles added with spectacular tactlessness, then seemed to notice Alexander for the first time. "Your Grace! Thank you for having us. Beautiful place you've got here. Very... large."
Alexander's expression could have frozen fire. "Mr. Coleridge. Mr. Edward Coleridge. Welcome to Montclaire House."
"Oh, none of that Mr. Coleridge business," Edward said cheerfully. "We're family now! Brothers, really, when you think about it."
Ophelia saw Alexander's jaw clench and intervened quickly. "You must be tired from your journey. Mrs. Morrison will show you to your rooms."
"Rooms? Plural?" Charles looked delighted. "We each get our own? Brilliant! At home we still share, you know.
