Page 15 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

“How dare?—”

“But as I said.” He stepped away quickly, breaking the spell. “Today has been a big day for the two of us. I suggest you get your rest, wife.”

She widened her eyes in rage, and he could see her body shaking. He’d struck a nerve, that was for sure. A fact that he delighted in because again, he sensed that she would be more trouble than he’d initially thought, and it was good that he’d taken the upper hand—reminding her who was in charge here.

Even if it was a close call. Even if for a moment there, he’d nearly given in to his most base desires and gone against his own promise. It was a dangerous game that he was playing, and he knew he needed to remind himself not to push himself too close to the edge.

“Good night,” he said and waved her away. “And please, close the door on your way out.”

She stood frozen in the doorway, fire seeming to pour from her. Jaw clenched. Eyes wide and blazing. Somehow, she managed to utter a “Good night, husband,” before turning and storming out of the room, making sure to slam the door shut behind her.

And once she was gone, Henry breathed a sigh of relief. This marriage was already proving to be more trouble than it was worth, and if it stayed this way, there was no telling what might happen. Starting tomorrow, he was going to have to take measures to make sure that she didn’t get to him the way she did and that he’d be able to control himself. It shouldn’t be too hard… even if history might disagree.

But for now, it was time to sleep and put this day behind him. Sadly, the moment he rested his head on his pillow, he knew sleep was the last thing he’d be getting. Charlotte, his wife, filled his mind and set it racing, a trend which he sensed wasn’t going to end tonight.

ChapterFive

As requested—although demanded was more accurate—Charlotte broke her fast the following morning with her husband. She woke up earlier than usual, before even the sun had begun to crack the skyline, but she didn’t dare head to the dining room before she heard him rise—and not because she feared him and what he might do. She certainly didn’t fear that! It was simply because she didn’t want to give him something that he might be able to hold against her.

And yes, there was that kiss they almost shared. It pried at the edges of her mind like a pesky worm trying to burrow deep into her soul. But she refused to let it break her! She would not think about how he looked without a shirt on. She would not remember the smell of him, the way it filled her nostrils and made her heart flutter. And she certainly wouldn’t think of his lips so close, begging to be kissed, bitten, torn like an animal feasting on red meat.

She would not!

So, she lay in bed, pushing those thoughts away until she heard him stirring. Then she called for one of the maids and asked that she have a bath drawn and an outfit picked out—her clothes had been brought over from her old home but were yet to be properly unpacked. And it was only when she heard the Duke heading downstairs for the dining room that she finally graced him with her presence.

“Good morning, wife,” he greeted her with a smug smile the moment she appeared in the doorway. “Lovely of you to join me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” she said simply, keeping her voice level as she made to take a seat at the table. He sat at the head, so she chose a spot on his right. And as she sat and then settled, she could feel his eyes on her, watching, judging, and mocking her.

She’d spent the night wondering about the Duke. What kind of man he was. What he expected of her in this marriage. He wasn’t as cold and withdrawn as she had initially expected. Rather, he was manipulative and conniving and rough around the edges—a fact he seemed to take pride in. Last night was the perfect example—the enjoyment he took from luring her into his room, hinting at bedding her, and then pulling away at the last minute and making it seem as if she was the one who had instigated it. When she most certainly had not!

He was testing her, she knew. Wanting to see whom he was married to. Let him see, she thought to herself as she smiled at the footman for pouring her a glass of juice, and let him understand that she wasn’t one to be taken so lightly.

“I suppose I should thank you,” she began politely, leaning back so the footman could collect her plate and prepare for her some food.

“What was that?” Henry responded.

“I should thank you.” She looked right at him, making sure to smile as if what she had to say was friendly. “For putting a shirt on this morning. It must have been hard for you, I’m sure. But I do appreciate it.”

His eyes flashed with anger, but he reined it in and returned her smile. “You’re most welcome, dear. I’d hate for you to become distracted.”

“Me? Never. I have far too much to do today for that.”

“Is that right? And what is it you’re planning on doing, my sweet?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” she said with a coy smile. “And I’ll thank you not to ask.”

Her plate of food was placed back in front of her—an assortment of bread and cakes with various jams and butter.

She picked up a piece of bread and began to butter it. As she did, she could feel his eyes on her, no doubt angered by her rebuke. But there was also a sense of amusement there, as if he was impressed by the way she denied him.

“Well, I hope you have fun,” he said simply, taking a sip of his juice. “Oh, and you should know, a letter came from your parents this morning.”

Charlotte perked up. “It did? Where is it?” She looked about, as if expecting to see the letter on the table.

“Oh, I threw it out,” he said, as if it was the most obvious of things.

“You what?” She balked, nearly shouted, but caught herself.