Page 12 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
Do not think of him.
And yet, David Cross had overshadowed it all.
The entire childhood Charlene had spent thinking she’d one day marry a Cross brother. They’d grown up together and then…
But if she wanted adventure and romance, she would have to face the past, right?
“There are no tricks in her letters. Only love,” she finally said, rising to her feet, striding over to the greenhouse windows. Beyond the glass, the wind spiraled through the garden, laying the summer asters low with bold strokes.
The sight gripped her.
Change was tangible, brushing against the panes but not yet stepping inside this room of perpetual green.
“Charlene.” Ashley’s voice softened, laced with a note of concern. “Are you still worried about that wretched rogue, David Cross?”
And a face—handsome, infuriating, unforgiving—seared its way forward from her memory.
Charlene sighed, then turned to send a smile to her friends. “Worried, no.” But fear… She knew him.
I thought I knew Adam, too.
And they’re both the same, aren’t they?
“Well, the minute he shows his face in London again, I’ll pummel him.” Maddie showed her fists as if a gentle lady like her could ever threaten anyone. Still, the friendship among the girls warmed Charlene’s heart.
“Of what I’ve seen of Adam Cross, he’d even enjoy that, Maddie.” Ashley rolled her eyes.
“No need,” Charlene said. “I doubt he’ll return anytime soon. Though I will not deny the past has made me a touch wary of the future.” David Cross had stolen more than her peace. He’d stolen the idea that the world, like the orchids she pruned and nurtured, could grow into something unblemished.
He’d broken her heart.
“You know his brother has returned,” Maddie said with a scrunched brow. “He is now the Duke of Rotheworth.”
Yes, Adam had returned.
Another face, this one just as handsome but wholly different from his brother surfaced in her memory.
Just as hateful.
Perhaps even more so than his brother. David had broken every romantic dream as a debutante, but Adam, or rather the duke, had cut her to the bone with his scathing words after the fact.
Charlene cleared her throat and strode back to the table. “I wonder what Sera would think of this particular design for your wedding gown,” she said to Ashley, drawing the conversation back to safer ground. She’d much rather talk about wedding gowns and baubles with her friends than talk about the Cross brothers.
Once Charlene dusted the soil from her hands, she glanced around the conservatory. Here, it would always be green. Inside these walls, she nurtured life, caring for each plant as if willing them to defy the passage of time. Outside, the leaves would soon yellow, wither, and fall from their branches, surrendering to the inevitable. It was their way, just as it seemed to be with men like the Cross brothers. Perfectly polished, yet destined to disappoint once their veneer faded. The thought settled like a shadow inher chest as she turned back to her orchids, wishing the quiet constancy of her plants extended to the world beyond.
She never wanted to see any of them again.
*
Adam shifted inhis chair at the four-story townhouse that had become part of the burden and privilege of his inheritance. The high back of the polished mahogany pressed into his shoulders, and the study smelled of ink and old parchment, reminding him of all the times he spent in this room with his father, listening to his teachings. He’d always meant to take his father’s place as the duke, but he had only ever wanted to be a privateer—a man of the sea. Duty had come too soon, and he never had the chance. The solicitor had been droning on for what felt like hours, and Adam could tell by the angle of the afternoon sun slicing through the curtains that it was scarcely just past three. He’d rather be racing through the park on his mare at the moment. Anything, really.
Except for this…
But he was about to fall asleep. Staying awake and thinking of Charlene was taking a toll at daytime.
“It is, as stipulated, that the inheritance now falls under your stewardship,” the man said, folding his hands over the ledgers spread across Adam’s wide desk. “The estate requires significant attention, given the expenditures of the prior quarter. The tenants are due to pay soon, but it will hardly suffice to cover the current expenses.”
Adam set his jaw, a finger tapping on the chair’s armrests. This chair had always been a bold feature of the study. Bolder even than the large desk. It was not the first time since he’d been a boy that he sat in his late father’s chair, in his place, but it meant more now. It was as symbolic of his takeover as it wastragic. “I’ll see it’s handled,” he said evenly, his words clipped but steady. He kept his gaze fixed on the man before him, avoiding the probing look from his mother.
