There was silence in the room for a while. Charity let herself calm down. Somehow, his presence seemed to be helping, though she could not explain why exactly.
Duncan’s gaze stayed on her the entire time, and then, when it felt like enough time had passed, he spoke up again.
“You won’t get them by asking,” he said. “You saw what he did the moment you pushed against him, and that was in front of me; imagine what he’ll do when there isn’t anyone there he has to fear.”
“Then what do we do?” she asked, because she had to have something she could hold on to besides dread.
“We do it properly,” Duncan said. “And quickly.”
Charity frowned.
“That is still not an answer.”
Duncan exhaled through his nose, like he had little patience for long explanations, but he gave her one anyway.
“We marry tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she repeated, feeling a knot in her stomach. Marriage was the day that all young women looked forward to, and hers was happening in such a rush.
“Aye,” Duncan said, as if it were a simple arrangement, like hiring a carriage, perhaps. “If we don’t, he will keep treating you as a girl who can be shouted down, and he will keep your sisters where he wants them, because no one will stop him. You need the title badly.”
“Where do we even go to marry?” Charity swallowed, coming to terms with what he was suggesting. “In a village church?”
Quaint, she thought to herself. Perhaps it would not be so bad.
“We’ll do it properly,” Duncan said, and his tone made it clear he meant what he said, even if “properly” would look different than it ought to. “But we’ll do it quickly.”
“And then,” Charity said, slowly, “you go back, and you demand them?”
“Perhaps it will not be a demand, in the same way you are thinking,” Duncan replied. “But I can make it difficult for him to refuse.”
Charity’s brows drew together.
“Explain.”
“We send for a magistrate,” Duncan said. “Or a solicitor, and you speak to Augusta and Matilda yourself, and if he tries to bar the door or hide them, he does it in front of witnesses, which puts him in trouble.”
Charity stared at him, then let out a breath.
“You’ve thought of this already?” she said.
“I’ve met men like him already,” Duncan replied as if it were the easiest problem in the world to solve. “They’re bold when no one’s watching, and very careful when they realize someone might repeat their behavior. I know you feel intimidated by him, but I think he is only talk.”
Charity’s throat tightened again. Desperately, she wanted him to be right. In front of her uncle, she felt small, and at least if Duncan was by her side, she would no longer feel that way.
“I don’t want them frightened,” she said. “And what if he has poisoned their minds already by telling them false things about me?”
“Then you tell them yourself,” Duncan said. “I’m sure that they will understand. Out of the two of you, you are the moretrustworthy one, and I do not think they will believe your uncle over you.”
Charity glanced toward the bed, then back to him, and her cheeks warmed with irritation at herself for it.
“And this,” she said, and she forced herself to say it without flinching. “If people talk about us being here…”being alone in an inn together.The whole thing just dripped scandal, and the last thing she wanted was for it to be a public thing.
“They will,” Duncan said. “People talk when they’re bored.”
“And I’m simply to accept that?” Charity asked, because she had spent her whole life scared of being punished for what men called “appearances.” That sort of cautious guilt was drilled inside of her at the nunnery.
“You’re to stop living by your uncle’s threats,” Duncan said. “Do you understand me? Remember why we’re doing it.”
