Victor tilted his head. “For what precisely?”
“For not allowing them to control every opinion I possess regarding the wedding.”
His gaze darkened slightly. “It is your wedding too, Charlotte.”
The sound of her Christian name in his deep voice sent warmth curling embarrassingly through her stomach. She looked away quickly, pretending interest in the marble floor.
“That is the least I could do,” he continued quietly.
Silence fell again. Dangerous silence.
Charlotte finally lifted her eyes back to his and instantly regretted it. His expression had changed entirely. The cool aristocratic mask remained, yet beneath it burned something heated and intent that made her breath catch. His gaze travelled slowly over her face with unmistakable hunger.
Oh heavens.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she blurted before sense could stop her.
One dark brow lifted. “Like what?”
Charlotte’s throat tightened. “Like you wish to devour me.”
The corner of his mouth curved slowly upward. “And if I do?”
Her pulse stumbled violently. He stepped closer then, close enough that she caught the faint scent of brandy and cigar clinging to him. Charlotte remained frozen where she stood whilst every sensible thought fled her mind entirely.
Their lips were nearly touching now.
Victor lowered his voice until it became rough velvet against her skin. “Prepare yourself for our wedding night.”
Charlotte’s breath caught.
“Because I fully intend,” he murmured, eyes fixed upon her mouth, “to claim you thoroughly.”
Heat exploded across her entire body so fiercely she thought she might perish on the spot. Her hands tightened helplessly against her skirts whilst scandalous images threatened to invade her mind all at once. Victor seemed entirely aware of her reaction too, which only made his expression grow darker with satisfaction.
Insufferable man.
Charlotte finally found enough sense to whisper, “You are utterly shameless.”
A low laugh escaped him. “You already knew that.”
Then, before she could think of anything remotely clever to say, he stepped back smoothly and opened the front door himself. Cool air rushed into the foyer between them. Victor inclined his head once, every inch the arrogant duke once more, despite the havoc he had just caused inside her chest.
“Good day, Miss Brown.”
And then he walked out the door, leaving Charlotte standing speechless in the foyer with trembling knees and the terrifying realization that she could still feel the heat of his gaze long after he had gone, while his words echoed in her mind.
I fully intend to claim you thoroughly.
CHAPTER 20
This is it. The day I am married to Miss Charlotte Brown.
The ceremony had been kept small at Charlotte’s request, though Victor privately suspected her mother would have happily invited half of London had she been allowed.
The chapel upon the Mulford Manor grounds glowed softly beneath the pale spring morning. Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows in shades of blue and gold, casting coloured light across polished wooden pews and white flower arrangements tied delicately with cream ribbon.
Victor stood beside the vicar at the front of the chapel with his hands clasped behind his back whilst guests slowly settled into place. Elizabeth sat proudly in the first row, wearing lavender silk and pearls, smiling at everyone as though this wedding had been her accomplishment entirely.
