This time, Charlotte was not going to give in. She held his gaze, arching her neck back slightly. Nathaniel’s lips twitched. He picked up a cloth and dabbed the corners of his mouth before folding it and placing it back onto the table. When he spoke, his words were soft, but the impact of them was such that they could have shattered glass.
“I am the Duke. I am the host. I am the elder brother. I have every say in the matter, certainly more say than a cousin.” His lip curled at this last word, and Charlotte knew she should take it as an insult.
“Even as a cousin, I know to allow Mary some freedom. Are you truly saying that a few guests from town are not allowed?”
“It is not for you to question me.” Nathaniel placed his hands on the table and rose, looming over them all. “It is not for any of you to question me. If you want a wedding, Alfred, then you shall meet my requirements.”
Nathaniel angled his gaze toward his brother, who was still sitting at the table but with clenched fists.
Beatrice finally turned her full attention away from the mess that Agatha had created and approached Nathaniel. A nervous laugh escaped her lips, and a wide, forced smile appeared on her face.
“There’s no need to have such a discussion here. I think we’re all getting a little boisterous because of the heartening meal. Let us have dessert, and then we can retire to the drawing room where we can play cards,” she suggested, nodding enthusiastically to everyone at the table.
“Is there any point if there’s no money involved?” Edmund whispered to Alfred.
“That sounds wonderful. What’s your game, Madam? Bridge, perhaps? We could be on the same team?” Agatha asked. Beatrice shuddered in response and ignored the question.
“I think that would serve to rouse the spirits,” Mary said. She looked across at Charlotte and glared at her. Charlotte wilted a little, smoothing out her dress. She bowed her head, and this time held her tongue, as did Nathaniel.
Beatrice leaned across and whispered something in Nathaniel’s ear, although her voice was quiet enough that Charlotte did not overhear. After this, Nathaniel lowered himself into his chair.
The food was taken away and replaced with colorful, sweet desserts. Clara licked her lips, but the only other person to tuck in with as much enthusiasm was Edmund.
“This is a wonderful feast. I can’t remember the last time we ate as well,” Charlotte said, leaning forward a little and directing her words toward Beatrice.
“You have done a fine job commanding the kitchen, Mother,” Alfred said. “I hope that you succeed just as readily for our wedding. I expect to be able to cater to all our guests.” His words were pointed, as was his gaze.
He then turned to Edmund. “Let me tell you about the meal Mother has planned. She aims to take a cow, a pig, and a lamb, and put them all inside each other.”
Edmund clapped the table, and his laughter rang around the room. “Marvelous! Jolly good. If that’s on the menu, there should be nothing to stop this wedding.”
Edmund laughed, but nobody else did. The comment was a little raw. Charlotte took a bite of the crumbling tart. A crumb got caught in the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darted out and directed it inside. To her surprise, Nathaniel was watching her intently.
This time was different from the other times, however. This time, he didn’t seem angry or threatening. He seemed fascinated. Charlotte’s head dropped suddenly, and she focused on her dessert. Her chest rose with a deep breath, and her heart quickened. She could handle him being perturbed by her, but fascinated?
No, that seemed entirely wrong.
Yet the tension between them was unmistakable. At dinner, it had been impossible to ignore him, but at least while they played cards, she could position herself as far away from him as possible.
Yes, she decided that was the best solution, distance. At least then she might be able to hold her tongue and prevent herself from ruining Mary’s chances of marriage. It seemed that the harder she tried to support Mary, the more she risked everything.
One by one, they rose from the table and exited the hall; the ladies departing for the drawing room, ready to be joined by the men later. As Charlotte left, she glanced over her shoulder. Nathaniel was still standing at the table. He was looking at his empty chair.
In that moment, she would have given anything to know his thoughts, even if they frightened her.
Chapter Eight
This drawing room was bigger than the one where they had shared tea earlier. Wide shelves filled with leather-bound books stretched across the walls. Ominous darkness pressed against the windows. The men shared an after-dinner brandy, the air prickling with the aroma of alcohol.
Lydia, Clara, Agatha, and Beatrice positioned themselves around a small table. Agatha offered to teach them whist. Charlotte noticed that Lydia did not protest, for they had all learned to play whist a long time ago. As this continued, Charlotte heard Beatrice become more and more agitated as she kept correcting Agatha on the rules.
The men, who included Nathaniel, much to Charlotte’s dismay, gathered around a liquor cabinet. She hoped that he would take himself elsewhere after dinner, but instead, he had to haunt her. Edmund had picked up a pack of cards and passed them from hand to hand.
“What were you thinking?” Mary asked in hushed tones, preventing anyone else from overhearing.
“I do apologize, my dear Mary. I quite forgot myself. I just thought it was unfair of His Grace to place such restrictions upon you.”
“Itisunfair, but that doesn’t mean I can question it. It pains me to say this, but Alfred’s love is not the deciding factor here. I would rather have the wedding that His Grace wants than no wedding at all.”
