Penelope grinned brightly. “We inherited that from Mother.”
Harriet gasped in mock offence while Joan nearly fell sideways laughing.
And despite the scandal waiting outside these walls, despite the duke, the gossip, and the confusion surrounding her future, Charlotte found herself smiling.
* * *
Charlotte returned to Mulford Manor just as the late afternoon light turned golden across the stone façade. The familiar sight of the grand house rising before her stirred conflicting feelings inside her chest: comfort, dread, embarrassment, andsomething far more dangerous whenever she remembered the duke himself.
The carriage had barely stopped before a footman hurried forward to assist her down. Charlotte gathered her skirts carefully and reminded herself that she was perfectly composed.
I'm absolutely not composed. I'm a wreck. Seeing him… no, I will go straight to my room and hopefully escape his presence.
The moment she entered the foyer, Mr. Baxter appeared as though summoned by magic from the walls themselves. The butler accepted her gloves with practiced calm before inclining his head politely.
“Miss Brown,” he said, “His Grace is expecting you in his study.”
Charlotte’s stomach tightened immediately.
Of course.
“Oh,” she managed.
Mr. Baxter gave nothing away, though Charlotte sometimes suspected the man secretly knew every scandal occurring within a five-mile radius. “If you would follow me.”
Charlotte forced herself to smile politely. “Thank you, Mr. Baxter.”
As they moved through the long corridors, Charlotte found herself smoothing her skirts repeatedly for no reason whatsoever. Her pulse quickened with every step closer to Victor’s study. It irritated her enormously that merely being alone with the man now made her nervous.
Ridiculous.
He is only a duke. A very handsome duke. A very handsome duke who kissed like sin itself.
Charlotte nearly walked directly into Mr. Baxter when he stopped before the study doors.
The butler knocked once. “Miss Brown, Your Grace.”
Victor’s voice sounded from within immediately. “Send her in.”
Mr. Baxter opened the door for her. Charlotte stepped inside while the butler withdrew quietly behind her.
“Close the door,” Victor said.
Charlotte hesitated only briefly before doing so.
The study felt warmer than she remembered. Sunlight spilled through the tall windows behind Victor’s desk while the faint scent of leather, ink, and sandalwood lingered heavily in the air. Victor himself stood near the fireplace in dark clothes thatsomehow made him appear even broader and more imposing than usual.
Entirely unfair.
Charlotte clasped her hands together tightly. “You wished to see me, Your Grace?”
“Yes,” Victor replied smoothly.
He moved away from the fireplace and slowly circled around the desk toward her with the same calm confidence that always unsettled her. Charlotte hated how aware she became whenever he approached too closely.
“Where were you?” he asked.
Charlotte blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
