“Do you know of her qualities?” Charlotte asked, trying to pretend that she did not care, but her curiosity got the best of her. She stared at her embroidery, feigning indifference and hinting that she was only asking to be polite, but her hands were unmoving, and all of her attention was focused on Mary’s answer.
“I’m afraid I do not know. It shall be a surprise for us all, especially His Grace. Although I cannot imagine the Dowager Duchess, exacting as she is, would find anything less than a perfect match for her eldest son.”
“I see,” Charlotte replied. She found herself thinking about this mystery woman. Was she intelligent? Was she beautiful? Could she play cribbage? Would Nathaniel fawn over her, or would he treat her with the same contempt that he treated Charlotte?
Most of all, she wondered if her kiss would erase Charlotte’s from Nathaniel’s lips. After all, he had received her first and likely only kiss. It seemed odd that such an important milestone for her would be swept away by a flurry of kisses from another woman.
Perhaps it was for the best that the kiss was forgotten to history, but it still left her with a sense of unease, one that could not be easily shaken.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlotte found it difficult to sleep. She twisted and turned. She folded her arms beneath the pillow and curled up, and then she spread out all her limbs and lay on her back. Nothing worked. She became aware of every creak in the house as well as the gentle wind whispering outside.
This might well have been a cacophony.
Despite her best intentions, she could not stop thinking about the impending arrival of Nathaniel’s bride. Lydia’s incessant teasing had struck a nerve with her. Charlotte could protest all she liked, but the fact was that she had kissed Duke Nathaniel and then become entwined with him by the pond.
The worst thing was that she found neither of these things distasteful, even though that’s how she would have described the man himself.
Why should it bother her that he was meeting a bride?
Why did her mind keep returning to those moments when fire crackled and the pit of her stomach became tight?
Why, oh why, had this fate befallen her?
Eventually, she threw off the covers, unwilling to lie in the dark for hours on end with these questions and more rattling through her mind. Restless nights had plagued her for many years, and she found them utterly intolerable.
She pulled a thick robe around her and carried a candlestick, the flame of the candle within flickering as she moved. The house was dark and ominous. Shadows flickered all around, and unfamiliar noises greeted her. She peered into the darkness, exploring every direction with her gaze. Her footsteps were soft, her breath shallow.
Some floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she made her way to the library. At this hour, she hoped she would have it all to herself.
She was quickly disappointed.
Sitting in an armchair was Nathaniel, reading a book by candlelight. His strong jaw and sharp features were illuminated by the flames. Brutus and Hector were relaxing on a rug beside Nathaniel’s feet, contradicting the old adage about cats and dogs.
Charlotte recalled how Lydia had described her and Nathaniel as those animals. Charlotte pressed her lips together, thinking about how wrong Lydia was.
It was tempting to retreat, but Charlotte wasn’t that kind. She was not about to bow to the Duke’s whims. She composed herself and then strode toward him, her head held high, acting as though she belonged there.
Nathaniel noticed her and did not make any attempt to hide his disappointment. His gaze barely flicked up from his book, and he did not move to greet her.
“I am surprised to see anyone else awake at this hour.”
“I have been plagued with restless nights for many years. I find it intolerable to wait for the nights to pass. I prefer to do productive things with my time.”
“As do I. Too much time is wasted on sleep and rest. There is much to be done and many books to be read.” He angled his head, looking out toward the vast collection of books.
“And many notes to be taken,” Charlotte added with an agreeing nod.
Hector and Brutus reacted to her voice by lifting their heads. Hector gave a soft mew while Brutus gave a canine smile and wagged his tail. Both animals were too comfortable, curled up together, to move, however, and they quickly settled back down.
Charlotte bent down and petted both animals.
“I’m surprised that you let Brutus into the house. How many vases has he knocked over?”
“I am not heartless. Besides, he would break a door down to get inside, and I only allow him entry into rooms where he can cause the least amount of damage.”
“I’m a little surprised he didn’t join in the game with us.”
